<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928</id><updated>2012-01-02T05:45:10.931+02:00</updated><category term='revenge'/><category term='Aphid'/><category term='Hell'/><category term='cut and paste'/><category term='mosquitoesm madness'/><category term='Recipe holder'/><category term='trees'/><category term='security'/><category term='guru'/><category term='Glory'/><category term='short-cuts'/><category term='cute'/><category term='Enlightenment'/><category term='crafts'/><category term='life'/><title type='text'>relentless learner</title><subtitle type='html'>"The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes, but in having new eyes." -Marcel Proust</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>94</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-6404269283700309843</id><published>2010-11-28T03:52:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T04:03:53.640+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crafts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recipe holder'/><title type='text'>Christmas Craft Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, it's Christmas time again! Very excited! This year we're keeping it bare bones, but that does not mean boring nor does it mean no decking the halls! This year, I'm creating Christmas from scratch. Between nursing school, planning the regional Christmas party for my husband's company, making Christmas crafts/decorations/gifts has been strategically planned out and penciled into my calendar. So far, so good!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;To hold my growing collection of favorite recipes (mostly scribbled on the back of receipts, mail, etc), I made this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544414018216551170" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/TPG3LIt-YwI/AAAAAAAAAMk/G00Sr5htYhQ/s320/Recipe%2BHolder.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/TPG2zrSluiI/AAAAAAAAAMc/bEXNKc47ayw/s1600/Recipe%2BHolder.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's fairly simple and took about twenty minutes. I saw something very similar in a StampingUp! catalog and decided to make my own version.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;If you want to know how to make it, let me know. Otherwise, just copy it from the picture and use whatever accessories you have to make the apron fit you and your kitchen! I'll be giving a few of these away to some friends with some of my favorite holiday recipes tucked inside. Just an idea! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-6404269283700309843?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/6404269283700309843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=6404269283700309843' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/6404269283700309843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/6404269283700309843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2010/11/christmas-craft-time.html' title='Christmas Craft Time'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/TPG3LIt-YwI/AAAAAAAAAMk/G00Sr5htYhQ/s72-c/Recipe%2BHolder.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-8959859740164746213</id><published>2010-11-24T04:58:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T04:02:59.432+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trees'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='security'/><title type='text'>Beautreeful</title><content type='html'>I love trees. Not enough to hug them routinely. But staring up at their branches as the sun or moonlight peak through the branches, especially those large, extensive trees that seem to branch off smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller before finally reaching the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, if you squint, the darkened leaves become the blurry background to the starry constellations of light peering through. Try it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love napping under trees. One afternoon, after napping under a tree, I noticed how playful trees are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All you need is a little wind tickling through the branches to make them dance and rustle, swayinjg from side to side. I love it! The sound and sight are soothing and entrancing like staring into fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strong sturdy trees, as playful as they are, are secured by the trunk and anchored by the roots. Playful, fun-loving, firmly founded, and secure. A lot like a respectable person. Firmly founded but not rigid. Fun-loving but secure. A tree well-watered, sun-bathed, and nurished in rich, firm soil.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-8959859740164746213?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/8959859740164746213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=8959859740164746213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8959859740164746213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8959859740164746213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2010/11/beautreeful.html' title='Beautreeful'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-6618082377916215171</id><published>2010-11-22T22:54:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T04:03:24.903+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='short-cuts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cut and paste'/><title type='text'>Cut and paste.</title><content type='html'>Life before cut and paste? I can't remember it. Typing, re-typing, or...&lt;em&gt;writing and RE-WRITING? &lt;/em&gt;Wow. What a chore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm amazed at how our minds function and the capacity we have to learn, think, remember, forget, communicate, and feel. And the ability we have to create "commands" such as Cut and Paste, Undo, Copy...and then create shortcuts for these already ingenius short-cuts (Control X, Control V, Control Z, Control C).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever wonder if we will ever discover a way to short-cut ourselves out of life? I mean, I can express a thought on paper, then with a few clicks, save, upload, email, post, and reproduce copies around the world in under a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Write a letter with a pen and paper once in awhile, read an article printed on paper, call a friend for directions instead of mapquesting! Life is a process. Love, joy, relationships, it all takes time, and with all our short-cuts, let's not forget to endure the process so we don't cut ourselves short on life, on living.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-6618082377916215171?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/6618082377916215171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=6618082377916215171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/6618082377916215171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/6618082377916215171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2010/11/cut-and-paste.html' title='Cut and paste.'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-3802039952559393153</id><published>2009-04-16T22:30:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T22:33:40.141+02:00</updated><title type='text'>the loooove chapter.</title><content type='html'>"Love is patient, love is kind...." I hear it all the time!  I Corinthians 13&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i went surfing early this morning then got to class in record time. here's my post-surfing, pre-class meditation from this morning as shared with a friend via gmail-chat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i was just reading "if i speak in tongues of men and of angels, but have not love...etc. Love is patient, etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;" dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" dir="ltr"&gt;i always think of those verses as guidelines to my relationship with people - how to love them and to express God's love through me to them....and to show God that I love him....BUT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;, how do i practice this love - patience, kindness, gentleness, etc - with God...in my relationship with Him?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;" dir="ltr"&gt;I think i just assume that because he's Love, that's that. How am i letting (or not letting) the spirit work on my relationship with Him. Am i patient with God? Am i kind and gentle? Not that he can't handle my impatience or at times harshness resulting from hurt or frustration...but what characteristics do i practice or not practice in my daily interaction with him...my prayers? my attitudes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;" dir="ltr"&gt;i got some serious thinking to do on this one! i so easily resort to "expressing" my frustration....and sometimes that's necessary and i believe he wants it. but i definitely don't need to be in a habit of doing so all the time.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;anyway. that's my post-surfing, pre-class meditation this morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-3802039952559393153?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/3802039952559393153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=3802039952559393153' title='41 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3802039952559393153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3802039952559393153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2009/04/loooove-chapter.html' title='the loooove chapter.'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>41</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-5173775066673827280</id><published>2009-03-23T10:46:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T10:46:34.706+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>such is life....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;exams went well....i'm still enjoying my classes and find them....interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my cousin gave birth to a handsomely hairy, healthy boy last night. birth is.....interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my uncle-grandpa (grandma's sister's husband) passed away....tonight. i was sitting on a comfortable deck bench in target when i found out....interesting.   :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was telling april about a very, very precious, special conversation grandpa and i shared yesterday....i got teary-eyed as we sat on the comfortable deck bench in target....interesting.&lt;br /&gt;it's almost 11pm and the only thing i want to do is go for a run, which i'll do...but because it's getting late, i'm going to run on the busy streets of ward to avoid dark, potentially scary sidewalks at ala moana park...interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i enjoyed a long surf session at what's become my normal spot and met a guy whose family is from iran and even though he's never been there, i felt an affinity with the very indirect connection we share because of that one time i lived nearer to iran than ever before in my life....interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday, i really missed my brothers and their consistent invovlement in my life.....their consistent, relentless looking out for me and proactively taking care of me. i miss being taken care of....interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;did i mention that while surfing today, the back tie on my suit became undone......interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my sister's friend's boyfriend's brother is in town and i've been selected to be his date for tomorrow night....interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;such is life....interesting. at least, that's the way i see it. little adventures of interestingness, one day at a time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-5173775066673827280?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/5173775066673827280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=5173775066673827280' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5173775066673827280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5173775066673827280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2009/03/such-is-life_9155.html' title=''/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-386052857956945097</id><published>2009-02-26T22:43:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T23:11:23.916+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Of sorting soil...one handful at a time.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cccccc;"&gt;I'm not sure sorting rocks from soil is my ideal plan of attack for a sunny Saturday. In fact, I'm not sure it's anyone's. So, how did I, after a busy week, end up with handfuls of rocks and fingernails full of dirt on a sunny, Saturday afternoon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, since you asked such a wonderful question.....let's rewind a few hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7am - wake up&lt;br /&gt;8:30 - drop off Mom at a conference in town&lt;br /&gt;8:45 - jog around Ala Moana beach park&lt;br /&gt;9:00 - take Grandma and Grandpa to buy their weekly supply of papaya from the farmer's market&lt;br /&gt;10:30 - coffee break with Grandma and Grandpa&lt;br /&gt;11:00 - about 20 police officers infest our driveway, guns out, inspecting a vehicle and the empty lot next door&lt;br /&gt;11:15 - Janean and Grandpa enter the garden........&lt;br /&gt;11:35 - Janean wonders, with a handful of rocks and fingernails full of dirt, about all the more efficient methods of separating the rocks from the soil in the garden....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, seriously, there are plethoras of ways to get this job done. On top of many other methods, there are also a ton of other things that need to be taken care of in the garden, which we'll probably NEVER get to because as I sit here, one handful at a time, Grandpa sits on the other side of the garden, one.handful.of.rocks.and.soil.at.a.time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o......n.........e..............h............a............n...............d.............f............u..............l...................l...................a.......................t...................................a......................................t...............i........................m.........................................e............................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think you get my point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the summer of 2006, I spent a lot of time gardening with Grandpa. I loved doing whatever he needed me to do - rake leaves, pull weeds, transplant orchids, and other tedious, time-consuming tasks. It didn't matter, though, because I loved spending time with him. Watching his then 90 year old hands masterfully tend to the needs of his garden. I enjoyed this time so much, that I decided to spend one semester at home with him and Grandma instead of returning to Seattle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I have always loved about being in the garden is the quiet. I work. I listen. I think. I think about how much I passionately dislike slugs and snails for all the damage they cause to the plants and wonder if there's any good that comes from their existence. I think about how much I enjoy getting my hands dirty and how much more I enjoy lathering up and watching the dirt go down the drain. I think about the intricacy of plants - their sensitive resiliency. I think about how this garden, the tangerine trees, the orchids, anthuriums, lettuce, onions, green onions, herbs, birds of paradise, and all the other plants whose names I don't know....how they all reflect the time and energy of a man who daily returns to tend to their needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three years later, I still enjoy spending time with Grandpa in the garden. But today. Hot sun. Lots of soil. Lots of rocks. Lots of OTHER things I could be doing in the garden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, it downs on me. I came out here to help Grandpa get things done in the garden. As if there's a list of things that need to be finished before we can call it a day. As if, somehow, my help will make a significant contribution to accomplishing this list. I came out here ready to get it done, cross it off the list, and move on to the next task. And here I'm sitting, looking across that garden at Grandpa, patiently sorting the rocks from the soil, one handful at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How often do I approach my life like this? Wanting to learn more. Wanting to get stuff done. Wanting to accomplish or achieve a significant amount in order to fulfill this need to produce results. Yes, there are many legitimate things that I need to work on, task that must be accomplished, and goals that should be achieved. But today, Grandpa helped me realize a wonderful aspect about God. Today, I will refer him to Him as Grandpa God, The Gardener.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Grandpa didn't choose gardening as his hobby because he likes to get things done. Don't get me wrong, he's a hard worker. But there will always be more weeds to pull, more soil to sort, more orchids to transplant, fruits to pick, vegetables to plant, branches to cut...There will always be more that needs to be done. But Grandpa simply ENJOYS spending time in the garden. He loves to see the fruits of his daily, faithful labor. He delights in the dreams he has, the potential he sees for each young seed planted. He faithfully returns each day to ENJOY his garden. He ENJOYS watching the produce of his sweet labors of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there's Grandpa God, The Gardener. And my garden of life. And your garden of life. Each day, he faithfully returns because He ENJOYS me; He enjoys YOU! Yes, we all have weeds that need to be pulled, rocks that need to be removed, snails and slugs that need to be killed, fruit that needs to be picked, leaves that need to be raked. Yes, He sees the potential that we each have to be vibrant, lush gardens of life full of sweet fruit, organic vegetables, and exotic foliage. And yet, regardless of what still needs to be done, He ENJOYS being in your garden of life. He enjoys spending time with you. He's NOT always sitting there going down a list of things that need to be fixed in your life. If He was all about production and results, gardening would NOT be His hobby. You and I would not be His CHOICE creation....His hobby, if you will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we are His choice. He chooses to spend time with us. Enjoy us. Love us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm not always the choicest soil....and yet, Grandpa God, The Gardener faithfully returns, day after day, and patiently prepares the soil in my garden – my life – for plethoras of plants still unnamed, unplanted. He patiently sorts the rocks from the soil...one handful at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May you make time to sit and ENJOY your garden of life with Grandpa God, The Gardener. Enjoy being enjoyed. Love being loved. Don’t miss out, because He’s not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-386052857956945097?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/386052857956945097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=386052857956945097' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/386052857956945097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/386052857956945097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2009/02/of-sorting-soilone-handful-at-time.html' title='Of sorting soil...one handful at a time.'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-2447752030423328720</id><published>2009-02-05T04:59:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T05:47:58.677+02:00</updated><title type='text'>in no time at all.</title><content type='html'>it's crazy how time flies. i was just reading a blog from about this time last year (&lt;a href="http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/02/secret-love-notes.html"&gt;Secret Love Notes&lt;/a&gt;) .....i remember it being a difficult time. i don't remember all the details of difficulties, but i remember the lessons i was learning...i remember standing outside, waiting for the sun to peer over the horizon. it was egypt and it was cold. i was tired and exhausted. i didn't want to teach. i didn't want to talk. i just wanted to be warmed. i wanted to be comforted. standing behind the little make-shift snack shop, the lyrics to a song that i still haven't listened to ran through my mind...i had memorized the lyrics after reading them....but still haven't heard it sung. anyway, the lyrics are nice......but in those few moments of feeling cold, tired, and empty, that's all they were, lyrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then as the sun began to shine, i closed my eyes. i only had a few minutes, and i knew that if i stood very still, the sun would do what it's good at...warming. and it did. it wrapped its rays around me. and that song began to play in my mind....in my soul....and i began to hear it all around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;part of me doesn't ever want to hear this song played. for me, it has a melody that no instruments can play, no voice can sing....it's like a verse in our love song....and today, i heard Him humming the tune....and i realized, i haven't been listening. today, i stopped. i stood very still. i listened....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/02/secret-love-notes.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-2447752030423328720?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/2447752030423328720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=2447752030423328720' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2447752030423328720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2447752030423328720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2009/02/in-no-time-at-all.html' title='in no time at all.'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-8473087810329247927</id><published>2008-12-07T00:33:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T00:36:42.005+02:00</updated><title type='text'>un</title><content type='html'>i feel un-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;inspired&lt;br /&gt;motivated&lt;br /&gt;challenged&lt;br /&gt;rested&lt;br /&gt;janean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and want all of the above to be undone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-8473087810329247927?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/8473087810329247927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=8473087810329247927' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8473087810329247927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8473087810329247927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/12/un.html' title='un'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-289571336621147395</id><published>2008-11-25T00:20:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T00:21:33.322+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="status_body"&gt;"And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places." — Roald Dahl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-289571336621147395?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/289571336621147395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=289571336621147395' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/289571336621147395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/289571336621147395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/11/and-above-all-watch-with-glittering.html' title=''/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-6338126869075284922</id><published>2008-11-23T11:02:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T11:03:02.084+02:00</updated><title type='text'>YES!</title><content type='html'>i am alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;be inspired with me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 10px; background-color: rgb(252, 250, 208);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;p&gt;The only dream worth having ... is to dream that you will live while you’re alive and die only when you’re dead ... To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or to complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;- &lt;span&gt;Arundhati Roy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;em&gt;From her book,&lt;/em&gt; The Algebra of Infinite Justice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;p&gt;O Lord, open my eyes that I may see the needs of others; open my ears that I may hear their cries; open my heart so that they need not be without succor; let me not be afraid to defend the weak because of the anger of the strong, nor afraid to defend the poor because of the anger of the rich ... And so open my eyes and my ears that I may this coming day be able to do some work of peace for thee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;- &lt;span&gt;Alan Paton&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-6338126869075284922?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/6338126869075284922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=6338126869075284922' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/6338126869075284922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/6338126869075284922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/11/yes.html' title='YES!'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-8639753501477037580</id><published>2008-10-29T11:03:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T19:00:58.945+02:00</updated><title type='text'>a birthday wish</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;Growing up, I LOVED any holiday providing a reason to get gifts. Birthdays and Christmas.....and then, after watching my brother being showered with presents during his two hospitalizations, my list of possible present receiving occasions expanded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;Happy Birthday presents&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;Merry Christmas presents&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;Happy Hospitalization presents&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;Through high school, I would think up the most economical ways to invite the most people to "celebrate" my life. In tenth grade, my Dad asked why I invite so many people to my birthday parties, "Why not just a few friends." Without a blink, without a thought:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;"The more people, the more presents."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;What a motto to live by. But there you have it, I LOVE gifts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;Over the years, my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;idea &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;of gifts has changed. At seven years old, I'd see a commercial about the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;" href="http://www.timewarptoys.com/footsie.jpg"&gt;footise&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;, new and improved with a counter to see how many times you could jump over the rope without tripping up (you know what I'm talking about)...so, I'd see the commercial and think, "THAT's what I want for my birthday....only nine more months!" All year, I'd come across&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt; things &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;that I just knew would make that year the best birthday ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;Don't get me wrong, I still LOVE gifts...however, my taste has narrowed in a way that happens when distant horizons are explored, alone. There's nothing like looking at the sun setting over a seemingly endless desert with only your eyes. To share that sunset and see, if only a glimpse, the sun set through another's eyes, through another's perspective...that is a gift. To talk face to face with Mom and discuss ideas and thoughts that don't mean much to her except that it allows us to be, if only for a moment, in the same moment, nearing the same place, face to face....that is a gift. To look around a room full of smiling faces; friends, family...that is a gift.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;To know and to be known. To love and to be loved. Gifts worth wanting. Gifts worth sharing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;This year, my birthday wishes have already come true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 255); font-family: verdana;"&gt;I am so grateful. Thank you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-8639753501477037580?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/8639753501477037580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=8639753501477037580' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8639753501477037580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8639753501477037580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/10/birthday-wish.html' title='a birthday wish'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-3266655546519232840</id><published>2008-10-24T07:45:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T07:54:16.423+02:00</updated><title type='text'>breathing, still.</title><content type='html'>After watching a movie with my brother and a friend, I returned to the two bedroom hotel room where my parents and grandparents were fast asleep. As I got ready for bed, I realized that the light in my grandparents room was still on, but I could tell that they sleeping. Quietly, I snuck into their room and, just as I turned off the bedside lamp, I glanced over. Watery eyed, I stood their. No, I wasn't standing. I felt like I was falling while being held in that moment, that space. Breathing. Perhaps dreaming. Sleep. Life. At first, I only heard breathing and that was enough. No immediate thoughts. Just listening, watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is so fragile and in this moment of vulnerability, my response wasn't to analyze, contemplate, or discuss. Tears. At first from the beauty of breath that sings the song of life. But then it was the sound of my Grandma calling me for dinner as she has since I was old enough to respond. Then the voice of my Grandpa telling me why he became a Christian after years of being a Buddhist. Then the sound of the train trekking through the Canadian Rockies as Grandpa sits with eager eyes watching the breath-taking beauty pass by, deep in thought articulated with simple laughter when I ask what he's thinking. Then their excited voices congratulating me at my graduation. Then their supportive reassurances as I moved to Egypt. And now tonight. I wrote this after dinner tonight:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A while back, Mom and Dad heard about "Tip Top" diner on one of those travel channel episodes. Excited to finally bridge the reality and T.V., Mom mapquested Tip Top, officially adding it to our itinerary. An afternoon of reading and relaxing (yes, Ikeda's DO relax on vacation) turned into an evening of Happy Hour in the lounge (In fact, extremely happy when we found out this hour included food along with the drinks...FREE!) Happy Hour turned into two hours, turned into "Mom's Mangle" when she realized we had 12 minutes to find this restaurant and order our food before they close. Having served during the closing shift, I know the internal tension when a party of seven walks in TWO minutes before closing. Presuming THEY would be like ME, I walk in with "I'm so sorry" look...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I left no consideration that some people actually enjoy the jobs they choose to stick with for more than thirty years -- be it washing dishes, serving food, refilling drinks....or welcoming eleventh hour GUESTS. Humbling is an understatement. They were sold out of their signature pulled-pork sandwich, but fully stocked with kindness, generosity, smiles, mouth-tingling pie, pleasant conversation, and a satisfaction with their lives that could be tasted in each bite of hamburger steak.... So satisfying that Grandma (yes, my little, 87 yr old, Japanese, 5' Grandma who got a ticket for crossing the street to slowly) didn't put down her fork until she was only two bites away from complete victory. Jared barely finished 3/4 of the same meal. TWO bites left. Fork down. I don't remember the specifics of my persuasion, but it went something like this: "From this moment, Grandma, whenever hamburger steak sits at the table, this story will be told. A story TWO bites away from being made!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One bite left: "grandma. Grandma. [Mom joins in} GRANDMA. GRANDMA!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fork digs in. Mouth meets fork....with a glisten in her eyes, grandma savors the attention, holding the bite at her lips. A few waitresses have joined in the excitement. A cook peers through the window [the cheering may have been at Ikeda volume levels], a flash of the camera and the bite is gone. Devoured. Grandma owned the moment. A few claps, some high fives, proud smiles, a cleaned plate and then...from the farside of Grandma another fork raises. Last bite of salad on his fork (his unfinished country fried steak already packed in a to-go box), Grandpa leans forward for his moment. A 94 year old mouth, a childlike heart. Fork pauses at his mouth, freezing for a photo. A flash of the camera and the bite is gone. Salad all over Grandpa's lap. Priceless. A few more conversations with people who love thier jobs, love each other, and taught an unsuspecting guest a humbling lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, breathing. Humbled, still.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-3266655546519232840?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/3266655546519232840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=3266655546519232840' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3266655546519232840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3266655546519232840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/10/breathing-still.html' title='breathing, still.'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-4880137141573033438</id><published>2008-10-17T12:25:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T12:46:16.819+02:00</updated><title type='text'>settling in..</title><content type='html'>or something like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as my stuff finds a new home: clothes hung up, books on bookshelves, scarves and coats tucked away, records stored upright...things are looking like they're coming together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;except, the box of random, homeless stuff tucked in the back of my closet, the unsorted mail and paper collected and bagged while i've been away...then there are things i'm still unaware of like the contents in the container hiding under the bed that i refuse to open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in a lot of ways, i feel like the current state of my room reflects the current state of me. i seem to be finding my place for the most part. but there are still things that i'm aware of that don't quite fit yet. then there are the things that i'm not even aware of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today, the urge to get up and go -- go anywhere. somewhere. to be GOING -- crept up multiple times while getting my teeth cleaned. while mashing butternut squash. while sitting in my room, friends looking at my stuff, me looking at my stuff with new homes. a new home. stuff i've picked up along the way. now home. with me. unfamiliar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love being home. i love being with family. i love hanging out with friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but now my attention has a new home. along with my stuff. along with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i slept in my bed for the first time last night since leaving egypt. i don't think i will tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; i'm not ready for that sort of commitment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-4880137141573033438?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/4880137141573033438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=4880137141573033438' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4880137141573033438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4880137141573033438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/10/settling-in.html' title='settling in..'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-3385695467284335705</id><published>2008-10-14T11:16:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T11:34:59.443+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Decisions</title><content type='html'>A friend continually reminds me that, as we get older, the margin for error decreases. Consequences for wrong or poor decisions seem to come at a higher cost. Living back with my parents illuminates this with the everyday, "small" decisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    An unnecessary comment.  Stuff left out. Dishes not washed. Every decision I make in this house affects everyone else living here. People notice my shoe pile growing in front of my bedroom door and aren't happy when they trip over my purse or knock over my mail. Ipod plugged into my Mom's computer. Letters waiting to be mailed on the dining room table. All these things are so minute and yet all so intricately entwined with the lives of others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    At the same time, all of my other decisions equally, if not more, affect those I've allowed into my life. How I spend my time with or without people, what I do or don't do, everything says something. So what am I saying? What have I failed to say? If every moment has a purpose, every now says something, then what am I saying now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I fear, too often, "me" and "I" get in the way of what it is I really want to say. Of what I'm trying to say. Of what I've been saying all along:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    What are you saying now? Look at the people around you. The daily intersecting of lives? Before we know it, too many nows have passed and that voice, which we all have, forgets what life is all about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May your decisions NOW speak something worth saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something worth hearing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-3385695467284335705?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/3385695467284335705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=3385695467284335705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3385695467284335705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3385695467284335705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/10/decisions.html' title='Decisions'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-5544786446050257826</id><published>2008-10-10T13:39:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T13:53:45.828+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>While in Egypt, I discovered the enjoyment of baking. Aside from playing dough darts with left overs, baking has the potential to appeal to so many senses -- smells, hopefully, entice others to "check in," looks invite them to sit and indulge, taste keeps them coming back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I, when I have....no, when I make the time, enjoy the process -- selecting the recipe, gathering the ingredients, occasionally pretend I'm the host of a cooking show...only occasionally, I assure you :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prepared some pizza dough for lunch tomorrow. Yes, it's 1:30am, and I'm making pizza dough. Love it. With some locally grown tomatoes, I intend to use my Egyptian mom's tomato sauce recipe, throw in some basil from the garden, and.....some quality store bought mozzarella. Pick some lemons from the garden, make a little lemonade, cut a few orchids, find a few friends: a recipe for a good time, I hope. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I'll call my dentist to schedule the pulling of  all my wisdom teeth. Post-pizza, of course!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-5544786446050257826?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/5544786446050257826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=5544786446050257826' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5544786446050257826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5544786446050257826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/10/while-in-egypt-i-discovered-enjoyment.html' title=''/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-1906301088436690747</id><published>2008-10-05T00:07:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T00:16:10.809+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0); font-family: verdana;font-size:130%;" &gt;waiting in the car at the open market. no parking. listening to Mark Driscoll's latest series: The Peasant Princess, Song of Solomon (Mars Hill Church, Seattle).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;coffee breaking at the samoan jack in the box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;perusing the aisles of marukai, the japanese market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a morning well spent with grandpa and grandma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sipping tea made with fresh mint leaves from the spearment plant that i bought today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hurting hands from cutting overgrown grass with scissors yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;procrastinating from the daunting task of cleaning and organizing my room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've "grounded" myself. no phone, internet (after i'm done with this blog, of course), or re-cleaning my bookshelves and desk (the only places in my room that i consistently clean and organize) until i finish cleaning my entire room, which includes fully unpacking. grrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here goes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-1906301088436690747?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/1906301088436690747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=1906301088436690747' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1906301088436690747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1906301088436690747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/10/waiting-in-car-at-open-market.html' title=''/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-8536856340356122894</id><published>2008-09-23T01:29:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T06:11:33.548+02:00</updated><title type='text'>To See Live:</title><content type='html'>Cirque du Soliel&lt;br /&gt;Wicked&lt;br /&gt;Transiberian Orchestra&lt;br /&gt;Coldplay&lt;br /&gt;Nickle Creek&lt;br /&gt;Barcelona (again)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-8536856340356122894?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/8536856340356122894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=8536856340356122894' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8536856340356122894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8536856340356122894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/09/to-see.html' title='To See Live:'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-7228145229219461456</id><published>2008-09-15T03:41:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T04:15:53.725+02:00</updated><title type='text'>T time</title><content type='html'>tea seeps a subtly sophisticated ambiance while providing remedies of varying sorts. and yet, i have never enjoyed tea (except green teas) and, therefore, have never owned a tea set; that is, until this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i now own two tea sets. southern comfort has its appeal, obviously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this past year, i have acquired a taste for tea and it's accompanying ambiance. "would you like a cup of tea" not only extends a gesture of hospitality but an opportunity for conversation and friendship. Lipton will do, but I hope to collect an array of appetizing, appealing, and unique teas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;along with my interest in wine, i hope to use my interest in tea as an extention of my interest in you, in being Together, in T time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-7228145229219461456?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/7228145229219461456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=7228145229219461456' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7228145229219461456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7228145229219461456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/09/t-time.html' title='T time'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-2028848584059836303</id><published>2008-09-09T09:11:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T09:24:03.749+02:00</updated><title type='text'>it's</title><content type='html'>really late. i'm tired but can't sleep. i don't drink much coffee but today, simulatenously sipped a tall caramel machiatto and soy, vanilla latte until both were finished. then did this intense workout with the couple i'm staying with. then met up with friends. then had a cup of tea. then came home. then had a great conversation with my friend. then watched a few clips of "so you think you can dance," then tried to sleep. then decided to share all of the above with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know that feeling that comes over you the moment you realized that you've unintentionally hurt someone? that dreadful distaste. someone is hurting because of something you did...that's the feeling i experience when i consume coffee. today, i downed a double shot of dread. twelve hours later, the dread returns in a new form of distaste as i can't seem to find the final ingredient for this delicious recipe called sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if only if i hadn't eagerly volunteered to take the drink that the barista shouldn't have messed up :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps. i love the south. southern comfort reminds me of the aloha spirit, bringing families and communities of people together - food, family, and fun top the priorities of both!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-2028848584059836303?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/2028848584059836303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=2028848584059836303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2028848584059836303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2028848584059836303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/09/its.html' title='it&apos;s'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-3528326121015749107</id><published>2008-09-04T07:48:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T07:55:24.539+02:00</updated><title type='text'>oh canada</title><content type='html'>still in canada for a few more days.  learning lots....like my grandma files her nails on fridays, my grandpa has the HUGEST smile when interacting with his peers, papaya trees (like cherries) are male and female...oh wait, papayas don't grow on trees....there some other plant. there's a lot you learn while sitting on a train or bus for extensive periods of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while sticking my head out of the window of the vestibule on the train, i felt what i imagine to be a glimpse of the hope and anticipation of the pioneers back in the day. not knowing what's around the next ridge or through the next tunnel, we just kept riding on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've spent a lot of time with my grandparents. apparantly, my grandpa thinks i'm hilarious -- he laughs at all of my jokes! he's a keeper :) but seriously, i'm so glad i can spend this time with them. i'm especially interested to know what he's thinking as he stares out the window of the train for hours at a time...watching the world pass him by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from the land of maple syrup and igloos ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-3528326121015749107?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/3528326121015749107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=3528326121015749107' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3528326121015749107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3528326121015749107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/09/oh-canada.html' title='oh canada'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-3057391663093093194</id><published>2008-08-24T12:46:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T12:57:11.121+03:00</updated><title type='text'>defrost yourself</title><content type='html'>chris left today. jared left wednesday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've said by to my brothers before this, but this is the first time in a really long time when i'm the one staying home. the majority of the things i love to do include them. the majority of my favorite memories include them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope i never have to witness another today ever again. watching april let go of chris was one of the most beautiful, horrible things ever. two people so clearly made for each other, married for only six months, finally enjoying life with the one.....only to be separated. but she's not the only one, fathers holding babies only a few weeks old, mothers saying bye to infant children....it's sad. and yet, i couldn't help but feel even sadder for the few who seemed to have no one to cry with at their departure...no one crying over their coming absence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all the emotions of the day were channeled through a craft session resulting in a new bracelet, headband, ring, and ideas for a few more accessories. i feel like i'm defrosting. the experience and emotional overload have left me quite numb to many thoughts, people, and things going on around me. i hope that this next month of traveling continues the defrosting process and not the opposite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha, how many people return from a year in egypt to defrost?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-3057391663093093194?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/3057391663093093194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=3057391663093093194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3057391663093093194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3057391663093093194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/08/defrost-yourself.html' title='defrost yourself'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-4865668494893631515</id><published>2008-08-21T07:35:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T07:36:37.958+03:00</updated><title type='text'>haha...</title><content type='html'>another day....still can't handle the pressure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm really not laughing. just ironic from yesterday's post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-4865668494893631515?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/4865668494893631515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=4865668494893631515' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4865668494893631515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4865668494893631515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/08/haha.html' title='haha...'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-8342491217080025868</id><published>2008-08-20T01:59:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T02:30:33.413+03:00</updated><title type='text'>beauty</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;i can't find very, very important financial papers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;i can't seem to find enough time to spend with my brothers who leave very, very soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;i can't find the words to express how blessed i am by the friendship of two beautiful women who i just dropped off at the airport.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;i can't seem to express my appreciation (and even fully understand how blessed i am) for my parents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;there's so much that i can't do. it's frustrating but, for the lack of a better word, it's beautiful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;i'm surrounded by people who can't do it either....on their own. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;frustrated. tired. enthusiastic. uncertain. insecure. incompetent. optimistic. energetic. frazzled. content. aspiring. apathetic. furious. excited. passionate. impatient. perseverant. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;what would be the point of friends and family if we could do everything on our own? for this reason, i'm very, very excited to be home. but the transition back to the states, back to hawaii, back to home will (and hasn't been) the easiest. figuring out how the almost 23 yr. old, just lived in egypt, spent four years in seattle janean is going to fit in here is tiring. exhausting. frustrating. exciting. and at times, uncertain. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;i'm adaptable. but i'm human. right now, more than ever, i don't feel like i can handle it all. but i KNOW that i'm surrounded by people who love me and will continue to love me. even when i'm ridiculously tired from little or no sleep. when i'm frustrated and furious about finances. when i'm impatient about achieving my pending aspirations. when i'm enthusiatic about all the opportunities and options i have ahead of me. when i'm passionate about helping others and when i'm apathetically content. when i'm feeling uncertain and insecure, pessimistic and frazzled. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;be patient. i still feel like i might head over to my Egyptian family's house for dinner next sunday. i feel like i'm just passing through hawaii like i have so many times before. i feel like i've learned so much about myself and life but can't process and channel it all. my five years away from here has passed, but like a fruit fallen off of the tree, i'm still ripening (focus on the ripening part....not the falling off the tree part :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;i have so many things and thoughts about everything and nothing that i feel almost numb because i'm feeling so much so fast all at once non stop going going going busy no rest no break &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;blessed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-8342491217080025868?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/8342491217080025868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=8342491217080025868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8342491217080025868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8342491217080025868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/08/beauty.html' title='beauty'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-8033541226713401688</id><published>2008-08-16T06:36:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T06:53:02.501+03:00</updated><title type='text'>re-exploration</title><content type='html'>Being home has been nothing but non-stop craziness. Enjoyable but exhausting.  I've already met some really interesting people who have pointed me to more interesting people and places. I can't wait until I have the time (and money :) to enjoy a few of the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The Fat Greek (supposedly a lot of Arabs, mostly Egyptians, frequent this place! Including belly dancing and live Arab music on Saturday nights)&lt;br /&gt;- The Spot (smoothie and Egyptian food)&lt;br /&gt;- Wine tasting (I just went to this fantastic restaurant with a nice selection of wine and enjoyed a very nice glass. next time, i'll order the taste size of a few types)&lt;br /&gt;- Sewing lessons (I'm thinking about finding sponsors to pay for the lessons and, in return, I'll sew some nifty crafts for them....any takers???)&lt;br /&gt;- LIVE music....at this point, just about anything will do&lt;br /&gt;- camping! I can't remember the last time I went camping....once again, any takers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five years away means a lot to catch up on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-8033541226713401688?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/8033541226713401688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=8033541226713401688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8033541226713401688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8033541226713401688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/08/re-exploration.html' title='re-exploration'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-2081543808132316211</id><published>2008-08-06T10:49:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T11:07:59.402+03:00</updated><title type='text'>blah blah blah</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;packing, yet again. cranky check-in people. removing liquids and computer, shoes and jacket, cell phone and accessories. long lines. long waits. delayed flights? noisy neighbors. crying babies. i won't even describe the food. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;as you can tell, i'm more than ready to be home......in one place. not packing. not unpacking. not repacking. no packing....at least for three weeks. i'm usually excited about being in transit, especially alone. i meet more people and am focused on what's going on around me. however, i'm so relieved to be travelling with family. these past few years have become less about where i go and more about who i go with.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;my solo flight out of egypt was probably one of the worst i've had this far. even worse than the huge turbulance and 1,000 foot drop our plane took in elevation enroute to europe and then to kenya. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i think it comes down to this: i'm ready to be back with my family. single in the city no longer appeals to me. it did at one point. it was great. i loved it. perhaps this is a result of living in egypt. perhaps it's just the timing. either way, i may be the only almost 23 year old in america who is genuinely excited to move home after living away for five years. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and, to everyone inquiring as to "how long i'll be around this time," we'll see. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-2081543808132316211?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/2081543808132316211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=2081543808132316211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2081543808132316211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2081543808132316211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/08/blah-blah-blah.html' title='blah blah blah'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-2925916111034292510</id><published>2008-08-05T08:13:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T08:28:47.973+03:00</updated><title type='text'>family fun</title><content type='html'>looks like there's more to my family than i've ever realized. i suppose there are somethings worth mentioning, somethings unmentionable, and other things........i just can't keep quiet:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for instance, i'm related to hillbillies....you know, the people who may be crass, rough around the edges but ridiculously hilarious (or maybe that's a family thing!). i may never visit them up the crick, but they will most definitely be at my wedding....especially because i can trust that they'll respect the BYOB as they did this past weekend ;) good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then there's my uncle living in florida who is a very talented craftsmen - you want it, he'll build it. he showed me some of the projects he's worked on.......and now i'm looking at extending my trip on the east coast so i can spend some time learning from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then there's that guy....the epitome of a goofball. hilarious. and yet, under all of that, an astronomical AND aeuronautical engineer working for boeing who helped design and test the latest raptor, F22 for the US gov......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i must mention my aunty and uncle who own about 10 snakes, three dogs, guinea pigs, and recently got rid of their ferrets (sad!)......they also own an arsenal of medieval tools, weapons, costumes, etc....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, that's a BRIEF synopsis of my mom's family......seriously, love these people......and now, off to hawaii........ikeda clan, here i come! finally...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-2925916111034292510?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/2925916111034292510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=2925916111034292510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2925916111034292510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2925916111034292510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/08/family-fun.html' title='family fun'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-7574761193438799638</id><published>2008-07-30T06:35:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T06:35:55.886+03:00</updated><title type='text'>looks like we've got a lot to do...</title><content type='html'>let's get on it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The job of the peacemaker is to stop war, to purify the world, to get it saved from poverty and riches, to heal the sick, to comfort the sad, to wake up those who have not yet found God, to create joy and beauty wherever you go, to find God in everything and in everyone.- Muriel Lester(1884-1968)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-7574761193438799638?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/7574761193438799638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=7574761193438799638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7574761193438799638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7574761193438799638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/07/looks-like-weve-got-lot-to-do.html' title='looks like we&apos;ve got a lot to do...'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-7663865300633523897</id><published>2008-07-24T04:20:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T04:36:08.561+03:00</updated><title type='text'>farewell, for now.</title><content type='html'>my exodus from egypt nears. saying goodbye isn't usually difficult because i'm pretty good at keeping in touch with people, even across continents and oceans. however, i feel like i'm leaving a job after the first year. in general, the second year is better than the first because you know what you're doing, you know your coworkers, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but things happen the way they do for a reason. one year ago, there's no way i would've made a two year, overseas commitment (or of any sort, really). anyway, these last few days have been fun and fulfilling:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bowling, ice skating, snorkling in the red sea, going to the circus, and just enjoying my time with the people who have become my extended, egyptian family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, as usual, articulation and jet-lag preparation don't mix well. it's 4:30am. in a few hours, i will fall asleep sitting straight up on my direct flight to new york. and so, i will have exited egypt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wherever you are, be all there. Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God." - Jim Elliot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now, my friends, from egypt i part to be where i'm now headed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-7663865300633523897?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/7663865300633523897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=7663865300633523897' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7663865300633523897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7663865300633523897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/07/farewell-for-now.html' title='farewell, for now.'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-505821279726999947</id><published>2008-07-14T19:28:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T11:06:34.836+02:00</updated><title type='text'>T Minus 10 Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;And so, the beginning of the end has arrived:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;1. Clean my flat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;2. Eat all the food still in the kitchen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;3. Spend a few days relaxing on the shores of the Red Sea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;4. Write and send final postcards&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;5. Pack my bags&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;6. Eat a lot of Egyptian food&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;7. Find someone to print my boarding pass&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;8. Buy a cheap cell phone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;9. Convince the McDonald's motorcycle delivery boy to give me a ride around town&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;10. Eat more Egyptian food&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;11. Update music playlists&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;12. Get to the "I can't put it down" stage of reading Les Mis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;13. Start one more dodgeball or popcorn fight with Lianne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;What's to come:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;one-nighter in New York&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;two weeks in Seattle (live jazz - chopsticks?, cheesecake, thai food, the pink door, aladdin's falafels, storage unit exorcism, visit The House, convince tiana and justin to move to hawaii, triangle cabin, mt. si, cousin's wedding, etc.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;three weeks in Hawaii (show ruth and maegan my island, hang out with the brothers before they're redeployed to the M.East, thank all of my friends and family with a huge "Egyptian" feast)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;vacation with grandparents (going on a train trip from washington up into canada)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;three weeks in Georgia and DC (one week of hanging out with old and new friends and a one week conference)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#339999;"&gt;by the end of september, i'll be homeward bound.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-505821279726999947?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/505821279726999947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=505821279726999947' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/505821279726999947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/505821279726999947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/07/t-minus-10-days.html' title='T Minus 10 Days'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-272643786581738345</id><published>2008-06-26T21:42:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T23:02:24.466+03:00</updated><title type='text'>belgium</title><content type='html'>known for its beer and chocolate...two things which we haven't tasted in our first few hours here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, our  appetites are quite full from an afternoon of speed-walking through a nearby college town with one peurto rican, nine mexicans, three egyptians, one canadian (lianne), and two americans (me and a lady who lives in mexico). none of us speak dutch, or german, or french, or anything else (besides english) that could be helpful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aside from the entertaining diversity (entertaining is an understatement....the fun and frustrations that come with such diversity only make a "stroll" through a foreign city much more enjoyable and exciting) of our group, i must admit that the two white-haired, 60 something year old, twin ladies walking around (matching clothes, shoes, and bags) were a highlight...seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then there was the lovely moment i slipped into my jacket. it's not cold, but compared to cairo, it's a bit chilly. lianne and i went for a little stroll through a local park, sat and listened to the trees....a sound that i often miss living in the craziness of cairo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i had taken more time to learn spanish. it never seemed exciting enough for me in high school. however, now that my excitment involves knowing people and doing things with people, language acquisition is a bit higher if i continue with these international adventures. my limited recollections from afternoons with aunty martina and cote helped me find some common ground.........but honestly, it was ultimately mer. shwartsenager who came to my rescue.....believe it, i totally said it. and, i'll say it again:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;asta la vista, baby!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-272643786581738345?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/272643786581738345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=272643786581738345' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/272643786581738345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/272643786581738345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/06/belgium.html' title='belgium'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-2965590746182635731</id><published>2008-06-26T08:06:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T08:12:29.488+03:00</updated><title type='text'>all my bags are packed</title><content type='html'>i'm just about ready to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in one month minus two days, i'll be exiting egypt until the next time an opportunity comes along for me to return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;until then, i'm off to belgium for two weeks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-2965590746182635731?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/2965590746182635731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=2965590746182635731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2965590746182635731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2965590746182635731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/06/all-my-bags-are-packed.html' title='all my bags are packed'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-6337923835663376830</id><published>2008-06-11T22:34:00.006+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T23:23:23.170+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Lianne, Lianne, Lianne...what more need I say?</title><content type='html'>Why in the world do people (Lianne and I included) take all the clothespins off of the clothes line and put them in a basket so we can take them out of the basket and put them right back onto the line when the next load of laundry is ready to be dried? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Seriously&lt;/span&gt;!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in my effort to eliminate a completely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;unnecessary&lt;/span&gt; and often tedious (although minute) task from the already &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;strenuous&lt;/span&gt; demands of washing laundry, I suggest that we leave the clothespins on the line and simply clip the clothes to the line with the awaiting clothespin! Brilliant, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a roll of the eyes and an annoyingly entertaining tone, Lianne shares her thought about my ingenious: "You are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;SOOOOO&lt;/span&gt; lazy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LAZY? Wow, Lianne. No need to get personal, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;jeez&lt;/span&gt;! Being the humble, mature, twenty-two year old American living with a Canadian, I respond calmly, yet passionately, of course:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"LAZY?!?! It's people like me who invent microwaves and other conveniences that you Canadians enjoy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loud laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laundry folded....clothespins still on the line....until Lianne dries her laundry, that is. That's right...and after she finishes her laundry, I'll be the one &lt;em&gt;taking&lt;/em&gt; all the pins out of the silly basket and clipping them &lt;em&gt;back&lt;/em&gt; onto the line. Lazy? Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten minutes later, Lianne invites herself to join me in the bathroom as I brush my teeth, wash my face, etc. By inviting herself, I really mean to say that she monopolizes the sink. Being the humble, mature, twenty-two year old American, I patiently brush my teeth to the side of the sink where I can no longer watch myself in the mirror (even after brushing my teeth approximately fourteen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;thousand&lt;/span&gt; and six hundred times before this occasion, I still find my self staring at the strokes of the brush....why do we do this? You know I'm not the only one :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny what we notice when we step to the side and stop looking in the mirror. For example, whenever I enter the bathroom, I can always tell if Lianne's already been in there or not. If she has, then I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;guaranteed&lt;/span&gt; a free feet cleaning as the bathroom floor is covered in water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stepped aside, no longer looking at myself in the mirror but at Lianne in front of the sink and mirror, I notice that her face washing technique is like a fountain desperately trying to water a withering garden....minus the garden and add a few water-wrinkled feet, we have our bathroom floor after Lianne has washed her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laugh, for obvious reasons. Without saying a word, she knows the reason I laugh and explains (rather defensively, I might add :) that if she brings her elbows closer to her body, there would be no Old Faithful; however, she informs me, bringing her elbows closer to her body takes a lot of effort, in fact, too much effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoa. Rewind:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;With a roll of the eyes and an annoyingly entertaining tone, Lianne shares her thought about my ingenious: "You are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;SOOOOO&lt;/span&gt; lazy!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, ten minutes of laughter, clean faces, clothespins on the line, water on the bathroom floor, I finish brushing my teeth, in front of the sink, looking in the mirror....for approximately the fourteenth thousand, six hundred and first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I don't really brush my teeth for ten minutes......but my wisdom teeth are poking through my gums and the brushingbrings momentary relief from this post-adolescent, teething process. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a basket to hide (there's always a way to ensure that others accept our genius ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-6337923835663376830?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/6337923835663376830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=6337923835663376830' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/6337923835663376830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/6337923835663376830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/06/lianne-lianne-liannewhat-more-need-i.html' title='Lianne, Lianne, Lianne...what more need I say?'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-137338533490036742</id><published>2008-06-07T20:40:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T20:44:23.070+03:00</updated><title type='text'>A few more pictures</title><content type='html'>Here is a link to a few pictures from the past two weeks of traveling....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's taking FOREVER to upload photos (almost 10mins for ONE picture!)....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my generous roommate uploaded my pictures onto her page with her newer, shinier, and faster computer.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENJOY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=22013&amp;amp;l=4c9e3&amp;amp;id=506172621"&gt;Floating down the Nile and playing with many, many, many Egyptian kiddos!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. Links to older albums can be found in the upper right corner of this page.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-137338533490036742?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/137338533490036742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=137338533490036742' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/137338533490036742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/137338533490036742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/06/few-more-pictures.html' title='A few more pictures'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-1824715331890816939</id><published>2008-06-06T15:06:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T23:46:05.615+03:00</updated><title type='text'>of a bus, a boat, and a brouch.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;My eyes closed, seabreeze flies freely through my hair, songs spill from my lips. &lt;div align="left"&gt;The engine roars; the smell of diesel, gone with the wind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;We cut through the swells.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I hold on tightly to the shoulders in front of me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Open. The wind flings back my eye lids, flattens my cheeks, dries my lips. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I take a deep breath through my nose. I look.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Grandpa, preparing the next lure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Jared, checking the lines in eager anticipation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Chris, asleep in the sun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Dad, Captain Dad, steering us toward dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I smile and continue my song. The song echoes. The engine roars. The diesel smells. The wind blows. The boat rocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Open. No more salty seabreeze flying through my hair or swells to rock the boat. Just a roaring engine, smelly deisel, and an echoing ipod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point, maybe twelve years ago, sitting in the back of the bus reflected social achievement: coolness being the epitome. Today, there was nothing cool about the back of the bus. For a few moments, I escaped from the nauseous engine gases and found myself sitting on the captain's chair of our deep sea fishing boat, fifteen years ago, singing my song, smiling at my Dad as he looked over his shoulder at me, smiling at me as if I had the most beautiful voice ever. I sang louder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just moments before, as the bus engine started, I realized our trip from Suez Canal back to Cairo was going to be uncomfortable, to say the least. Now, I love life. I love to share life with people (which is why I'm sitting here.....telling you about my ever exciting journey from Suez Canal). I share my thoughts, my feelings, my ideas; to know others and to be known, I believe, is a priceless gift that we've been given......So, in these first few moments on our bus ride home, I felt the need to share my frustrations...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily for Lianne, my typical grouchiness in regards to minute frustrations such as sitting at the back of the bus is expressed in bratty-playfullness. We'll call this mood: brouch (brilliant, I know! You put brat and grouch together and there you have it!). Brouchiness is usually the result of frustrating situations that are rather silly and don't deserve full-blown grouchiness (argueably never deserved...anyway). Br0uchiness usually reflects my unique ability to cope with such situations. In this case, I needed to escape the nasueating smells and ear-gnawing engine noises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brouchiness inspired:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208760254302854994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/SEk72qXlH1I/AAAAAAAAAH4/PFwUr5H6FoE/s400/DSC01898.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, the sweater over the nose helped me escape the smells; although, not even sitting at the very back of the bus helped me escape odd looks from the "front-of-the-bus" passengers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that to say: Dad, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE fix the boat! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-1824715331890816939?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/1824715331890816939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=1824715331890816939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1824715331890816939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1824715331890816939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/06/of-bus-boat-and-brouch.html' title='of a bus, a boat, and a brouch.'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/SEk72qXlH1I/AAAAAAAAAH4/PFwUr5H6FoE/s72-c/DSC01898.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-806567554480791207</id><published>2008-05-29T09:41:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T09:52:40.919+03:00</updated><title type='text'>floating down the nile</title><content type='html'>lianne and i are back from our nile adventures. we leave on saturday for another week for some more excitement. we have about four more trips this summer...and then, i'm off to new york, then seattle, and finally home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i get a chance, i will post pictures from this past week. we visited quite a few more temples, ancient egypt style....wore big hats and big sunglasses (it was very hot)...ate a lot of food...held little crocs, poked bigger ones, slept on mud brick roofs, rode camels, swam in the beautiful nile of southern egypt (unlike the not-so-beautiful nile here in cairo), relaxed on faluchas (mini-barge/sailboat/egyptian style boat things), walked through a botanical garden (similar to the ones in hawaii, actually.....minus the sandy desert in the background), ate more food, and relaxed, relaxed, relaxed......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now, i'm paying the consequences of eating a lot...WITHOUT washing my hands consistently....not a good idea. further details, unnecessary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-806567554480791207?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/806567554480791207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=806567554480791207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/806567554480791207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/806567554480791207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/05/floating-down-nile.html' title='floating down the nile'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-8246141723974621473</id><published>2008-05-21T17:05:00.006+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T23:12:34.928+03:00</updated><title type='text'>"empathy at a distance" the plight of the electronic nomad</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"The forms of our media, regardless of their content, have the power to shape our minds and our messages."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taken from "Our Nomadic Existence: How Electronic Culture Shapes Community" by Shane Hipps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hipps looks at Marshall McLuhan who argued that the message and medium are connected (more specifically that the medium is the message), contradicting the popularly accepted belief that it's not the method of getting the message (the medium) across that's important, it's the message itself. In church, it's said something like this:&lt;br /&gt;“The methods change, but the message stays the same.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hipps looks at media and, as McLuhan did, poses questions rather than articulating answers about technologies affects on communities and individuals.....if you want to read the full article, let me know and i'll email it to you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The effect is a paradoxical one. Electronic culture does opposite things at&lt;br /&gt;the same time. If oral culture is tribal, and literate culture is individual,&lt;br /&gt;then the phenomenon of the electronic age is marked by what I call the&lt;br /&gt;tribe of individuals. We live in a confused state of being characterized&lt;br /&gt;by a deep and growing desire for connection and community and the&lt;br /&gt;ever-increasing experience of an electronic nomad. It’s the isolating&lt;br /&gt;and thin existence of electronically wandering the globe, glancing off&lt;br /&gt;one another, but never really connecting or encountering the other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The paradoxes go on. If oral culture is empathic, and literate culture is&lt;br /&gt;distant, the electronic age is marked by empathy at a distance. This is&lt;br /&gt;a condition that emerges when our TVs and computer screens flood our&lt;br /&gt;living rooms with images of planetary suffering: from September 11 to&lt;br /&gt;the Tsunami to Darfur to all the other ongoing famine, genocide, wars,&lt;br /&gt;and starvation in the world. While this allows us the opportunity to&lt;br /&gt;extend compassion to these far-off places, it actually has the opposite&lt;br /&gt;affect. There is an immediate outpouring of support followed by a&lt;br /&gt;detached, clinical numbness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The end result is apathy and inaction. This is not our fault; it’s not&lt;br /&gt;because we are bad people. The human psyche isn’t designed to&lt;br /&gt;withstand all the weight and trauma of global suffering without shutting&lt;br /&gt;down. Numbness and exhaustion are natural reactions. This experience&lt;br /&gt;of horror and empathy, followed by shutting down and feelings of&lt;br /&gt;helplessness, is the condition of empathy at a distance. And it didn’t&lt;br /&gt;exist prior to the electronic age. The reason this matters is that the&lt;br /&gt;spiritual habit of empathy at a distance also finds its way into our local&lt;br /&gt;communities. It becomes increasingly difficult to muster local activism&lt;br /&gt;and genuine concern for others when global suffering has already&lt;br /&gt;cauterized the nerves of compassion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Shane Hipps is lead pastor of Trinity Mennonite Church – a missional, urban, Anabaptist congregation in Phoenix, Arizona. Before accepting a call as pastor, he was a strategic planner in&lt;br /&gt;advertising where he worked on a multimillion dollar communications plan for Porsche. It was here that he gained his expertise in understanding media and culture. Shane is a sought after speaker, host of the “Third-Way Faith” podcast&lt;br /&gt;on Leadershipbuzz.com and author of&lt;br /&gt;The Hidden Power of Electronic Culture:&lt;br /&gt;How Media Shapes Faith, the Gospel&lt;br /&gt;and Church.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Check out: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fermiproject.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Fermi Project&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Closing thought:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Science today has given us improved means to attain some of our damnable ends. That's not true of all science, that's not true of all of the means so do not take that as an extreme; but it is true that some of our technologies have made us more sophisticated in our evil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rzim.org/" target="_self"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rzim.org/" target="_self"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ravi Zacharias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-8246141723974621473?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/8246141723974621473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=8246141723974621473' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8246141723974621473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8246141723974621473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/05/empathy-at-distance-of-electronic-nomad.html' title='&quot;empathy at a distance&quot; the plight of the electronic nomad'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-2755074763514066437</id><published>2008-05-16T10:42:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T11:17:21.751+03:00</updated><title type='text'>living with lianne</title><content type='html'>typical day unfolds:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:55am - Janean wakes up&lt;br /&gt;5:56 - Janean turns on the water pump and takes a shower&lt;br /&gt;6:02ish - Lianne rolls out of bed, sits on the couch, eats toast, yogurt, and fruit.....half asleep&lt;br /&gt;6:15ish - Janean finishes shower, puts clothes on, walks into living room...Lianne still half asleep&lt;br /&gt;4:53pmish - Lianne can't correctly annunciate the Arabic word for "arrange"..but is convinced she's saying it right. but she's not. Janean and Arabic teacher laugh because instead of "btizboty" she's saying "btizbooty."&lt;br /&gt;4:57ish - Lianne is still convinced she's saying it right and is now arguing that i'm saying it wrong. Which, at the time, I wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;4:59ish - My turn comes.....and of course, I say it wrong. We all laugh.&lt;br /&gt;9:10ish - Lianne and I enter the store to buy phone credit. I say, "Oh, look, they're showing Castaway on the T.V." Lianne argues, "That's not Castaway....that's...I forget what she said...some other movie..." I argue back, "No it's not!" And then this weird music starts playing and the guy yells, "YELLLLAAA!!!" It was a commericial for Mobinil or some mobile phone company! We were both wrong......we both laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder if living with Lianne is a glimpse of having a younger sister or having a husband!!! Not that she's manly (or I, for that matter :) ......I've had a few roommates, but living with Lianne is like an ongoing comedy. She's so playful and.......young and lively...with stupid jokes and when we poke fun at each other, I'm the dry, sarcastic, witty humor, and she's like "Yeah....well......you're STUPID!" "Ouch, Lianne...that really hurts. Did you think of that on your own..." and this is how it goes. Both smiling and laughing at how silly we are......Lianne with her crazy ideas and me with my "old, tainted, grandma ways" as she would say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living with Lianne is a lot of fun. We're both usually really busy and tired. So our idea of fun is dodgeball in the house (sorry Taunt, our landlady), roasting marshmellows with candles, bonfires on our deck, popcorn fights, dough darts in the kitchen, gingerbread houses in February, talking about randomness, and all in all, just living our lives together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had no expectations of who I'd meet when I moved to Cairo. Living with Lianne, though, has definitely been one of my highlights.....the majority of my memories have her somewhere in the picture...whether she's making sand angels in every desert we travel to, trying to convince me that it would be funny to throw things at people as we drive by them on the street, throwing food on the walls, making odd noises at the wrong moments, or whatever else she does to make me roll my eyes and chuckle......our age difference (four years) brings us together rather than keeping us apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i will never forget "that one time i lived with lianne"! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you roommate, teammate, classmate, sister, friend....accomplice ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. and it was Obama who called that reporter "sweetie".....not OSAMA! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-2755074763514066437?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/2755074763514066437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=2755074763514066437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2755074763514066437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2755074763514066437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/05/living-with-lianne.html' title='living with lianne'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-3534021687123683970</id><published>2008-05-11T20:27:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T10:56:59.927+02:00</updated><title type='text'>two suitcases and five agains</title><content type='html'>after a few weeks of mentally processing all of my belongings, going through what i have, what's important, what i want to take, what i want to leave, etc. etc. etc. etc. etcccccc..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i finally packed my bags. i just got up, went through everything:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everything i want to take with me- on the bed&lt;br /&gt;everything i'm leaving here- on the big pile under my window&lt;br /&gt;everything that i'd like to take but don't mind leaving- between the bed and the two suitcases&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't get me wrong. i will, at some point, unpack these bags and refill my now empty closest. afterall, i still have about three months left.....besides that, i'm going to need at least one of the suitcases in less than two weeks since i'll be traveling again. then after that, i'll travel again. then again. then again...and then again...(that should be five "agains") and finally, i'll begin my adventure home...which is going to be a two week adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;amidst the packing, i'm reminded of how easily i become attatched to things. when i pick up certain things, i see the face of the person handing it to me. i remember the laughing....i hear the jokes. i think of the bad days that we went through. usually, these memories make me happy....but lately, they just remind me of how short our time together has been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;our lives are so short. there are a lot of sad, painful circumstances. there's so much sufferring. may we remember to be just the tiniest reflection of hope. the simplist reminder of joy. each person we meet is telling a story...a story full of many, many things -- things that have made him/her laugh, cry, sick, sad, furious, gleaming, hopeful, lonely....so many things. but under all of these things...no, through all of these things, we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we are here. we are here now. may today, through whatever things you're going through, you look at someone and see through his/her irritating habbits. look beyond his/her shortcomings. may you look at someone and see him/her as a person. just as s/he is. just as we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and may, by the grace of God, you love him/her as s/he was created to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-3534021687123683970?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/3534021687123683970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=3534021687123683970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3534021687123683970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3534021687123683970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/05/two-suitcases-and-five-agains.html' title='two suitcases and five agains'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-3252537173410970210</id><published>2008-05-02T16:34:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T16:53:44.844+03:00</updated><title type='text'>close your eyes...and walk.</title><content type='html'>i'll be walking on a sidewalk and get a random urge to close my eyes and continue walking. i have no idea why. do i do it? well.....in spurts. close my eyes. walk. peek. close my eyes....weird, i know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;besides little bites from tiny, black ants, things here continue to be busy and exciting. two weekends ago lianne and i went with one of the teachers from my school to her church, St. John, to celebrate Palm Sunday (last weekend was the Egyptian Easter). she's coptic (the oldest, existing church). we slept in and ALMOST missed this wonderful opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last weekend, we spent three days travelling through the western desert. we slept under the stars, swam in springs, visited the white desert, black desert, crystal mountain, english mountain...it was non-stop adventure. needless to say, we came back sun-kissed and glowing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other exciting news, our landlady finally took care of our broken toilet seat. eight months of roller coaster toilet rides and we're back to normal. exciting stuff, i know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;other than that, just praying about my post-egypt plans. my life feels like dot-art. all these littlte, colorful dots all over the canvas....at some point, i'll see the bigger picture, until then....i'm just living, one dot at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps. i dropped my external hard drive, which houses all of my music and more importantly ALL of my pictures from this year! :( i hope it's fixable.......there is some serious tragedy potential.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-3252537173410970210?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/3252537173410970210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=3252537173410970210' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3252537173410970210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3252537173410970210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/05/close-your-eyesand-walk.html' title='close your eyes...and walk.'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-5259386787342478048</id><published>2008-04-13T18:30:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T16:50:42.865+02:00</updated><title type='text'>flour power</title><content type='html'>i bought my ticket to go home.....actually, mom and dad bought my ticket. yes, in october, i'll be 23 and my parents are still buying my airplane tickets. I'll reimburse them...with a year or two of my presence in their house, that is. after 5 years of "gallivanting the globe," i'm moving home. i'm not passing through, stopping by, i'm MOVING in! i may even buy a piece of furniture or use that dresser that has been janean-less for quite some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as i look at my itinerary, many thoughts flood my mind. the people i'll be leaving, the people i'll be re-connecting with, my family, my grandparents, registering for classes.....the food i'll get to eat........the food i won't get to eat. i won't be able to buy freshly baked pitas (aysh baladi) right around the corner from my flat. so, i decided i'd learn to make pitas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on second thought, a trip to the store for a packet of yeast isn't worth it....plus, i'm still here and should enjoy the pitas i have and when i return home, i'll learn to make pitas......AND since we haven't seen any tortillas at the store lately and just finished our last pack, and i have all the ingredients, i'll make my first batch of homemade flour tortillas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mid-roll through my second tortilla, lianne comes home and decides to enjoy in the dough-rolling excitement. it's a good thing we didn't dump that empty glass jar of peanut butter so both of us can roll at the same time. yes, we use our peanut butter jars to roll dough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;copious amounts of tortillas piled high, lianne decides she's had enough and finds another use for the dough:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;janean joins in:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and this is what you get:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, pictures aren't working....but imagine a game of darts minus the darts....with some leftover dough!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-5259386787342478048?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/5259386787342478048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=5259386787342478048' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5259386787342478048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5259386787342478048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/04/flour-power.html' title='flour power'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-3733689347551962701</id><published>2008-04-09T18:32:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T19:03:04.492+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Life in a Box</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I made my first, homemade, without a recipe cake. Since moving to Egypt, I've learned to be a bit more resourceful in the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of stirring pancake mix and water, I mix flour, baking powder, eggs, milk, and some water.&lt;br /&gt;Instead of mixing a box of pudding mix with milk, I mix flour, eggs, milk, and whatever else enhances the flavor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can buy just about anything conveniently packaged with "Just add Water" bodly printed across the top. And if I'm lucky, I save 50% with my Safeway card! Pancakes, bread, pudding, cake, cookies, waffles, crusts, etc. The list goes on. Everything comes in a box!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I feel like I'm strolling down the aisle of life looking for the "pre-packaged-just-add-water" boxes of education, entertainment, family, friends, church, (God?).... Life isn't ever handed to us in a box. I can't make a good custard out of cake mix, or pancakes out of cookie dough, or pudding out of pancake mix; yet, all of these require the same basic ingredients!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure where I'm going with this.....I was just thinking and typing...and eating a piece of cake made at home and without a recipe! Recipes are good for obvious reasons....but improvising is like living in a foreign country -- eventually you feel more at home, but only if you get out and get to know where you're living! Improvising is becoming easier.....and tastier!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-3733689347551962701?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/3733689347551962701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=3733689347551962701' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3733689347551962701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3733689347551962701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/04/life-in-box.html' title='Life in a Box'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-591973432245780403</id><published>2008-04-05T19:36:00.009+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T20:19:53.867+02:00</updated><title type='text'>unspeakable</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Imagine fleeing your home, foreced to find shelter in another country, another land, another life. In most cases, refugees are not allowed to work or have access to medical and education services in the country they reside. Due to ethnic, cultural, religious, and historical differences, refugees are rarely, if ever, assimilated or accepted by the host culture. This isn't always a reflection of the people but of politics and economics.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;In six days, the following blog will be exactly 1 year old. I posted it on Myspace and now, with tears in my eyes, I share it with you. As I typed from Seattle one year ago, I now type from Cairo: my heart still saddened, tears in my eyes.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;11 April 2006&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's not much to say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185818060750296226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e6DPTTlKI/AAAAAAAAAFU/jggDRfUd4LE/s400/Boys_school_sudan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185818065045263538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e6DfTTlLI/AAAAAAAAAFc/2pcp-2ixlu0/s400/sudan_refugees.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185818073635198162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e6D_TTlNI/AAAAAAAAAFs/nMlaWUHPHVk/s400/td-e-000_acf46.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185822226868573506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e91vTTlUI/AAAAAAAAAGk/yPpfl-3DIF4/s400/01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sudanese refugees receive treatment for malnutrition in a hospital in Chad. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185818842434344178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e6wvTTlPI/AAAAAAAAAF8/LZOtdeJgrFg/s400/21.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The flight from Sudan to Chad took a physical toll on the refugees, particularly on the sick, infants, and the elderly. Some traveled more than a month to reach Chad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185818846729311506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e6w_TTlRI/AAAAAAAAAGM/A0oMwn0rA78/s400/Sudan_Refugees_big.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sudanese refugees rest before continuing their journey to safety in Chad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185818073635198178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e6D_TTlOI/AAAAAAAAAF0/OcxdeB1RfAU/s400/19.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A body left unburied outside Jijira Adi Abbe in Darfur, western Sudan, after a government attack.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185818846729311538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e6w_TTlTI/AAAAAAAAAGc/09NpnqOKHro/s400/05-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The body of a teenage boy lies among others outside the African village of Jijira Adi Abbe in Darfur, western Sudan. Bodies left unburied send a message to villagers elsewhere not to resist. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185818846729311522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e6w_TTlSI/AAAAAAAAAGU/wW_jqi2clXc/s400/04.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mass graves encircle the village of Jijira Adi Abbe in Darfur, western Sudan after the government attack &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185822862523733394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e-avTTlZI/AAAAAAAAAHM/vr9o9btyksg/s400/02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of those wounded in attacks by Arab militias in October and November 2006 seek treatment in a hospital in nearby Goz Beida. Many are suffering from gunshot wounds. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185818065045263554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e6DfTTlMI/AAAAAAAAAFk/6u0DGC3Ql0I/s400/photo14.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A wounded woman is led to shelter. Chadian militia groups have attacked dozens of villages in southeastern Chad in November 2006, killing several hundred civilians, injuring scores more and driving at least 10,000 people from their homes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185822231163540818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e91_TTlVI/AAAAAAAAAGs/gWAXxLrzPyY/s400/photo12.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The effects of indiscriminate aerial bombardment by the Sudanese government on Chadian and Sudanese villages along the north-west stretch of the border. Bombs were dropped in October 2006 around several villages on both sides of the border and on essential water sources, although there was little or no rebel presence in the area&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185818842434344194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e6wvTTlQI/AAAAAAAAAGE/w-2oZ7xOI5E/s400/photo10.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bahai is a desert town in Chad on the border with North Darfur, Sudan. The town is a major base for Sudanese rebels fighting the government in Khartoum. Soldiers of the National Redemption Front rebel coalition are mounting a Katyusha rocket launcher on the back of a pick-up truck. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185822235458508130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e92PTTlWI/AAAAAAAAAG0/i8Phcodw9o4/s400/photo6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sudanese refugees live in makeshift shelters in the desert outside Birak, on Chad's border with Sudan. They fled the recent attacks by Sudanese militias in Jebel Moon, West Darfur, Sudan. Dozens of children were killed in the attacks on several villages and a camp for internally displaced persons in late October 2006. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185822239753475458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e92fTTlYI/AAAAAAAAAHE/80wmrv8kTVA/s400/photo5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Djorlo in eastern Chad was attacked by Chadian Arab militia on November 8, 2006. The militia burned huts and destroyed harvest storage areas. The village of Damri, attacked on November 12, can be seen burning in the background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185824241208235426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e_q_TTlaI/AAAAAAAAAHU/JkRbNO0aRxk/s400/photo3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For interactive information including pictures, stories, videos, and the numbers of damaged/destroyed villages, internally displaced persons (idp), and sudanese refugees, check out the product of &lt;a href="http://www.ushmm.org/googleearth/" target="_self"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;google earth's collaboration with the united states holocoust memorial museum in dc.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out these videos:&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://www.ushmm.org/conscience/analysis/details.php?content=2005-06-03&amp;amp;page=1&amp;amp;menupage=Sudan" target="_self"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;SMALLEST WITNESSES: THE CRISIS IN DARFUR THROUGH CHILDREN'S EYES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;2.&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ushmm.org/conscience/analysis/details.php?content=2005-11-25&amp;amp;page=1&amp;amp;menupage=Sudan#top" target="_self"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;WITNESSING DARFUR: RESOURCES AND VIDEO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For more information on what's going on, check out &lt;a href="http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.hrw.org/images/impact/2006/impact020106.jpg&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://www.hrw.org/update/2006/02/&amp;amp;h=167&amp;amp;w=250&amp;amp;sz=17&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;start=17&amp;amp;tbnid=MfAZGVb2O_1G4M:&amp;amp;tbnh=74&amp;amp;tbnw=111&amp;amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Dsudanese%2Brefugees%2Bin%2BCairo%26gbv%3D2%26svnum%3D10%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DG" target="_self"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Human Rights Watch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; Click on "Africa" and search for "Darfur In Crisis" on the right side of the page.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also: &lt;a href="http://www.worldpress.org/africa.htm"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;The Worldpress&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-591973432245780403?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/591973432245780403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=591973432245780403' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/591973432245780403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/591973432245780403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/04/unspeakable.html' title='unspeakable'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_e6DPTTlKI/AAAAAAAAAFU/jggDRfUd4LE/s72-c/Boys_school_sudan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-4537293706923765121</id><published>2008-04-05T12:54:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T19:16:58.528+02:00</updated><title type='text'>This Side of the Nile</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_dbQ_TTlJI/AAAAAAAAAFM/BOl-fQwMBHQ/s1600-h/n167100372_30136893_1776.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185713843368858770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_dbQ_TTlJI/AAAAAAAAAFM/BOl-fQwMBHQ/s400/n167100372_30136893_1776.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For more pictures: &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2005036&amp;amp;l=86bf2&amp;amp;id=167100372"&gt;This Side of the Nile&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-4537293706923765121?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/4537293706923765121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=4537293706923765121' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4537293706923765121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4537293706923765121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/04/this-side-of-nile.html' title='This Side of the Nile'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R_dbQ_TTlJI/AAAAAAAAAFM/BOl-fQwMBHQ/s72-c/n167100372_30136893_1776.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-4435140533294659233</id><published>2008-04-01T23:07:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T23:14:29.141+02:00</updated><title type='text'>africa live</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;today i went to a sudanese school here in cairo. the girls braided my hair, the boys played basketball, they sung songs, we played english word games..........amidst all of this, i remembered that i live in egypt........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since 2001 when i spent some time in kenya, africa holds a special place in my heart and today, that place grew a little larger, it sang a little louder, and danced that much longer. today, i remembered:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;africa lives in me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;i've been travelling this week and am excited to share some of those experiences. perhaps when all the current fun finishes, i'll post some pictures!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-4435140533294659233?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/4435140533294659233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=4435140533294659233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4435140533294659233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4435140533294659233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/04/africa-live.html' title='africa live'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-1656623131397279171</id><published>2008-03-29T21:43:00.007+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T22:27:21.659+02:00</updated><title type='text'>party.....without the people.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cccccc;"&gt;i'm not sure what gets into me.....one minute, i'm making miniature bags out of cool fabric coasters i bought today and then the next minute: custard (yes, MORE custard!) in the oven, keish waiting for it's turn in the oven, and "rooz belaban" (similar to rice pudding) cooling in the fridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one liter of milk, gone.&lt;br /&gt;six eggs used: three in the keish, two in the custard, one on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;a bunch of other stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's a few bananas perfect for banana bread......but i think i'll resist since the keish hasn't even started it's turn in the oven. i'm not even sure i like keish. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;i miss entertaining guests. this causes me to think about all my options when i return home:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;weekly craft nights with copious amounts of custards - caramel custard one week, toffee the next&lt;br /&gt;since i now drink teas besides green tea, i can have friends over for tea and.....keish? rice pudding?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you see where i'm going with this? my options are endless........i can feed many, many people. that's the point, there's people to feed, guests to entertain. but it's different here. everyone has a family. everyone has this and that......i'm always being hosted and, because i'm a single female, don't have many opportunities to host.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a cup of tea, a bowl of custard, piece of keish, scoop of rice pudding, a miniature bag made out of coasters, srawberry jam, salsa, kettle corn, sugar cookies, lemonade, and perhaps even a slice of banana bread......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cccccc;"&gt;bon appetite, roommate! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-1656623131397279171?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/1656623131397279171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=1656623131397279171' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1656623131397279171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1656623131397279171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/03/partywithout-people.html' title='party.....without the people.'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-5462575312766500227</id><published>2008-03-23T22:15:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T22:24:07.733+02:00</updated><title type='text'>summer in the city.....</title><content type='html'>ClearWind: S at 19 km/hHumidity: 14%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sun 39°C  21°C&lt;br /&gt;Mon 38°C  12°C&lt;br /&gt;Tue 27°C  8°C&lt;br /&gt;Wed 23°C  9°C&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sun 103°F  70°F&lt;br /&gt;Mon 102°F  54°F&lt;br /&gt;Tue 82°F  47°F&lt;br /&gt;Wed 74°F  49°F&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-5462575312766500227?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/5462575312766500227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=5462575312766500227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5462575312766500227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5462575312766500227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/03/summer-in-city.html' title='summer in the city.....'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-8329916652058351724</id><published>2008-03-21T00:43:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T00:51:26.409+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I am</title><content type='html'>so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff66;"&gt;BLESSED!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff66;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;and completely, inexpressably&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;GRATEFUL!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family and friends put the BIGGEST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;S M I L E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on my face............and inspire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JOY &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in my heart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THANK YOU!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-8329916652058351724?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/8329916652058351724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=8329916652058351724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8329916652058351724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8329916652058351724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-am.html' title='I am'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-433992059719792124</id><published>2008-03-19T10:28:00.007+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T08:19:15.294+02:00</updated><title type='text'>early buses, baked custards, big discisions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;This morning I made custard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc33;"&gt; These past two weeks at school have been so enjoyable. I started art classes for the younger students and, each morning, I look forward to working with them and with the teachers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;The ladies in my office are like my family, but since a few teachers quit, we've become more than a family but also a team. We work together as we enjoy each other's company. At night, I look forward to going to sleep by 10:30 to wake up excited and ready for a full day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I made custard. I'm still not entirely sure why. While talking to a friend about pending decisions, I thought custard seemed like a good idea at the moment and a tasty treat for later (even though I've already eaten my half).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As many of you know, I always have ideas bouncing around like there's a trampoline in my head (or a bouncy castle...); either way, my life constantly feels like it can go in various directions at the same time. Usually this is good because it keeps me learning, motivated, and excited about life, but on the rare occasion that I want to focus or pursue a specific dream, I find myself unsatisfied with the notion of channelling my interest into one direction as if having to simultaneously sacrifice other dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps some people are made to focus their attention, and others are made to constantly expand their horizons while expanding the horizons of those around them. Perhaps this is me. Or, perhaps I'm just as my aunty recently noticed: "Janean, you're really not headed in all sorts of directions, all of your interests focus on one goal -- to serve the whole person. You're not just concerned with a person's education, but with his/her physical and spiritual well-being. You care about the whole person and all your interests reflect this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the words came out of her mouth, it all made sense. Pursing one aspect of this goal isn't taking me away from other interests but better equipping me to be of service to people in various capacities. I feel like I've known this for so long; like I didn't know that I know, but I knew. You know? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have some pretty big decisions ahead of me and am excited to see where they lead. I've never been the type to freak out or feel burdened by such decisions but pray for wisdom. When the decisions are made, you will know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many Blessings,&lt;br /&gt;Janean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-433992059719792124?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/433992059719792124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=433992059719792124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/433992059719792124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/433992059719792124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/03/early-buses-baked-custards-big.html' title='early buses, baked custards, big discisions'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-1182382253359951882</id><published>2008-03-10T19:29:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T19:38:54.685+02:00</updated><title type='text'>In no time at all: "JUST a second"</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;from: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://discovermagazine.com/2007/jun/in-no-time"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;http://discovermagazine.com/2007/jun/in-no-time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;No one keeps track of time better than Ferenc Krausz. In his lab at the Max Planck Institute of Quantum Optics in Garching, Germany, he has clocked &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.groupsrv.com/science/about20524.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;the shortest time intervals&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt; ever observed. Krausz uses ultraviolet laser pulses to track the absurdly brief quantum leaps of electrons within atoms. The events he probes last for about 100 attoseconds, or 100 quintillionths of a second. For a little perspective, 100 attoseconds is to one second as a second is to 300 million years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-1182382253359951882?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/1182382253359951882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=1182382253359951882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1182382253359951882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1182382253359951882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/03/in-no-time-at-all-just-second.html' title='In no time at all: &quot;JUST a second&quot;'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-4087006133122441750</id><published>2008-03-06T18:59:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T19:01:51.834+02:00</updated><title type='text'>El Hahm Du Lah Leh!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;EVERYTHING has been returned!!!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-4087006133122441750?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/4087006133122441750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=4087006133122441750' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4087006133122441750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4087006133122441750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/03/el-hahm-du-lah-leh.html' title='El Hahm Du Lah Leh!'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-1369984409457872389</id><published>2008-03-05T18:00:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T18:05:57.166+02:00</updated><title type='text'>sheihk it up!</title><content type='html'>Update: A sheihk found my wallet in a mosque.  He called the only number he could find in my wallet -- a local tour guide.  She called my director who called me.  We'll meet him on Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said he will give only me the wallet since "there's money inside and other precious things." Perhaps everything is in there, perhaps not. Either way, God is faithful, and I have the BEST FAMILY AND FRIENDS!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned for more details :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-1369984409457872389?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/1369984409457872389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=1369984409457872389' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1369984409457872389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1369984409457872389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/03/sheihk-it-up.html' title='sheihk it up!'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-3429298858200382395</id><published>2008-03-04T15:06:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T15:26:01.580+02:00</updated><title type='text'>there's always a story....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;i love stories. i enjoy hearing stories and telling stories..........there's always a story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;but today, no story. just the details:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;FACT: My wallet went MIA somewhere between the backseat of a taxi on Sherda Hegez and my flat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;FACT: My passport and ALL my money were (are?) snuggly tucked in my wallet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;FACT: On my way to apply for a new passport, the Metro Station worker threatened to bring me to the police (like I said, there's always a story).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;FACT: I am so blessed! My friends and family are more than I could ask for! THANK YOU for everything.......you know who you are. I cannot clearly articulate my appreciation (even if I mastered the art of emoticons :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There are moments when I want to go out on my balcony and inform my whole neighborhood of my presence (Maybe a sweet seranade or a simple, loud YELL!).....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It'd go something like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;itsfunnyhowthoughtsjumbleinandoverlapintowhatseemstobeanneverendingprocess:livereflectlearnlivereflectlearn.thelivinghasn'tstoppedneitherhasthereflectionandneitherwillthelearning.itjustkeepsgoingandgoingandgoin.sometimesalittlebreakwouldbenice.butonthebrightsideihavewonderfulfriendsandfamily.ourinterdependence(currentlymydependenceonthem)issoencouragingandincredibleandwithanupdatedpassportpictureiwonthaveanymoreproblemsatpassportcontrol!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Okay, so maybe it's more like a rap, but there you have it...that's the "song" I'd graciously seranade my neighborhood with in a sorta yell rap. At this point, all I can do is laugh. The situation isn't the most humorous, but there's only so much I can do -- laughing and moving on is one of them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I really am grateful for all the encouraging emails many of you have sent throughout these past months! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-3429298858200382395?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/3429298858200382395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=3429298858200382395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3429298858200382395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3429298858200382395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/03/theres-always-story.html' title='there&apos;s always a story....'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-700677522241942797</id><published>2008-03-03T18:14:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T19:59:04.328+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Around the aisles</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;With a free afternoon, some hit the beach, others wash laundry, snowboard, hunt, watch movies, play video/computer games, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt;/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;myspace&lt;/span&gt;, and whatever other entertainment suits each.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a person does with his/her "free" time is quite interesting. For example, this past weekend, I toiled into the wee hours of the morning to make a few necklaces and bracelets, wash laundry, and sort through a growing pile of papers. Today, I headed straight for one of the largest consumer-convenient stores in the area for an afternoon of grocery shopping (don't worry, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt;; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Spinnies&lt;/span&gt;' got nothing on you!):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mental shopping list -- check.&lt;br /&gt;Money -- check.&lt;br /&gt;Comfortable shoes -- check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Up one aisle, down the next. When I'm not exhausted, hungry, and in a rush, I enjoy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;perusing&lt;/span&gt; the various aisles at the grocery market. Baking goods, canned foods, pastas, rice, candy, snacks, juice, soda, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;chipsies&lt;/span&gt;, condiments, dairy, produce, bakery goods, seafood, poultry. There's so much to look at! So many ideas race through my head: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Customers should be allowed to throw all expired food at&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;impatiently&lt;/span&gt;-rude-run-me-over-with-their-cart customers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I can make Mexican &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;refried&lt;/span&gt; beans for 6 L.E. cheaper if I use Egyptian&lt;br /&gt;beans (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;fava&lt;/span&gt;)....but would they still be Mexican?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Strawberries are on sale, I'll make jam. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Chinese parsley and cilantro are the same thing, but parsley and Chinese parsley aren't. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Coriander&lt;/span&gt; smells more like cilantro than parsley.....is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;coriander&lt;/span&gt; related to Chinese parsley?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;"SOY MILK!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;SOOOOOY&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;MILLLKKK&lt;/span&gt;!"&lt;/span&gt; as I pick up my first carton of soy milk this&lt;br /&gt;side of the Nile!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;I don't understand a word you're saying Mr. Aisle &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Attendant&lt;/span&gt; Man, and even if you keep talking, I still will NOT buy the expired eggs no matter how good the&lt;br /&gt;prices&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;All these thoughts eventually come to an end as I finally roll up to the cashier.....excitement subsiding as I remember that all these adventures around the aisles come at a price. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Two hours later, a jar full of home-made salsa (with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;coriander&lt;/span&gt; instead of cilantro or parsley) and a jar full of home-made strawberry jam in the fridge, a small pot of pinto beans (soon to be Mexican &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;refried&lt;/span&gt; beans) on the stove, a glass full of soy milk on the counter, and yes, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;expired&lt;/span&gt; eggs in their carton, the price of a not-so-FREE afternoon strolling through the aisles of the grocery store are well worth the price........my wallet and waist size agree ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-700677522241942797?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/700677522241942797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=700677522241942797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/700677522241942797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/700677522241942797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/03/with-free-afternoon-some-hit-beach.html' title='Around the aisles'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-395971715897455993</id><published>2008-02-26T17:23:00.006+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T05:26:40.960+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Secret Love Notes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The lyrics to a song I've never heard race through my mind. But they don't stop there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I feel the words run through my body, their meaning saturating my life. Here I sit, cup in hand, behind the snack shop at my school. Students finally in class, the campus quiets. Winter brings chilled halls and freezing offices making usual chit-chat with the teachers a bit difficult in the cold, early mornings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Out here, the sunshine brings an escape from the cold, generously giving my body a break&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Here I sit, cup in hand, behind the snack shop. The lyrics to a song I've never heard race through my mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;More than words, they come to life -- my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As the sunshine warms my face, my world -- the one I live in, the one I left at home, the one I've created in my dreams, all of it -- comes to life. I am unimaginably blessed. With my eyes closed, I hear the world around me: I hear birds, wind, friends, voices of family in Hawaii, friends in Seattle, the beach, the lake, I hear laughter. I hear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;strong&gt;To know no other sunshine, than the sunshine&lt;br /&gt;of your face...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;strong&gt;Content to let the world go by,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;strong&gt;To know no gain or loss.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;strong&gt;My sinful self my only shame&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;strong&gt;My glory all the Cross.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;-Beneath the Cross of Christ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't live on the moon and let the world pass by in front of me. I live here and now. I live. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As I look around (in front of me is a barren field, behind me is an unpaved road, to my right is an unfinished building, and to my left is a dusty courtyard) I see life. In this barren field? Unpaved road? Where? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;There are times when His words seem to find their grave in the Bible. As if it doesn't exist or take life until we read, meditate, and reflect. His Word existed before the Book was compiled and will continue to exist long after the pages wither. This in no way is meant to depreciate the Bible. We live in the world created by His Word -- His words surround us. His words dwell within us -- written on our hearts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Open your eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I love these moments when I realize that He's always here, always revealing &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;His love like secrets...secret love notes waiting to be found. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Except, NOT so secretive at all! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Are we looking? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Let's open our eyes to more fully see what He's already revealed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The lyrics to a song I still haven't heard become more than words, they become life -- my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Not always an easy place to be......but I can't tell you anywhere else I'd rather find myself:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;"beneath the Cross of Christ."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-395971715897455993?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/395971715897455993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=395971715897455993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/395971715897455993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/395971715897455993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/02/secret-love-notes.html' title='Secret Love Notes'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-2523661045360591416</id><published>2008-02-23T18:17:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T18:29:23.963+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing in the Sandbox</title><content type='html'>Recently, I re-discovered that I am still very young and have many, many opportunities ahead of me.  I said, "The world is my playground, and I haven't even left the swings." However, taking a quick glance around, I have obviously left the swings and found the sandbox! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;"The world is my playground: I've left the swings and found the sandbox"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my recent travels home, I met quite a few random people, which is inevitable for a person too curious not to talk to the person next to me.  I will introduce you to two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Person #1:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember her name (I wrote it down along with her email but am too lazy to get it at this moment), but after walking around Amsterdam Central for awhile, I returned to the airport and met Person #1.  Five of us began chit-chatting -- all of us returning to the states from East and North Africa.  However, person #1 and I talked for quite a while as she told me that she was visiting her friend in Uganda who recently started "Wrap Up Africa," an organization teaching moms of children in-patients at local hospitals to sew skirts, which are to be sold in the states, in order to provide funding to feed the in-patients (especially cancer patients) who are fed only when their families can afford to buy food (along with hospital bills) and bring it to their child.  I bought a skirt. In fact, I am the first to buy a skirt from Wrap Up Africa.  If anything, I will remember these children and this lady. As I find out more information, I will be sure to post it -- causes led by women who are helping other women are such an inspiration!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Person #2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hand out the window, fingers tapping to the beat on the steering wheel, and yes, the wind blowing my hair. I began my last day at home running errands.  Instead of braving the traffic on the freeway, I decided to enjoy the backroads. Starting in Kalihi going up the ridges, into the valleys, and down into Nuuanu valley, the beauty of the island and culture left me enjoying the simplicity of the moment -- not trying to soak it all in, not trying to make the most of it, not trying....just being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night before, I planned to sneak out to one of my favorite spots after everyone went to sleep. However, as the time neared, I fell asleep.  Now on the road, I realized that I don't have to fit in all of my favorite places, foods, people, etc, during my few days in paradise. I will return.  This week gave me something to look forward to when I return.  I will return. In the meanwhile, I have an adventure to continue abroad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I bought what I needed at Walmart (I enjoyed my moments of being THAT consumer who loves strolling down the aisles of Walmart -- love me, hate me, judge me! :), and Macys is next on my list. What? I don't need anything from Macys! Sure, they have sweet sales on clothes, but I don't need anymore clothes.  These thoughts continued to run through my mind as I pulled out of the Walmart parking lot, down Keeamoku St. and into Ala Moana Shopping center.  Due to construction, I parked on the opposite end of Macys and so, I began my trek across the mall to Macys, still wondering why I'm going there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You need to know something about me: I really am not a fan of malls.  My senses become overloaded way too fast. But here I am, my last day at home, in a mall, on my way to Macys for no apparent reason. Glancing around at the different kiosks, I get a whif of glue, craft glue.  I keep on walking until I do a double-take on the kiosk I just walked past where, of course, the smell of modge podge gluey stuff is coming from. Ok, I'm not going to describe these bags, just check it out: &lt;a href="http://encorebags.homestead.com/products.html"&gt;http://encorebags.homestead.com/products.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Essentially, Kelly (Person #2) and I started talking about the cooperative that she's partnering with (you can read the article written in the Honolulu Star Bulletin: &lt;a href="http://starbulletin.com/2007/10/25/features/story02.html"&gt;http://starbulletin.com/2007/10/25/features/story02.html&lt;/a&gt;).  For those living in Hawaii, you know what I mean when I say that when you're home in the islands, we really live a world apart from everything.  Although I'm interested in global affairs, when I'm home, I have everyone and everything I love.  So, although I was excited to return to Egypt, it's difficult to remember WHY.  Kelly's aspirations to make a difference and help women a world away from her (in Philippines) reminded me why I'm here, which I'll save for later.  Mutually encouraged, we hug. THEN she GAVE me one of the bags she was selling! It was a beautiful moment. I continued my trek to Macys until I repeated, aloud, "I DON'T NEED ANNNYYYTHING!" Thank the Lord. I will remember Kelly. I will remember these women she's helping.  With my newest-eco friendly-recycled-let's-help-women addition to my bag collection, much needed inspiration, and a friendly hug from a stranger, I was ready to begin my 38 hours of travel back to my sandbox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, go get some coffee, maybe a snack, and when you return I might just tell you about my 10 hour layover in Los Angelas or my 9 hour layover in Amsterdam, which resulted in four hours of train travel to and from Belgium.....or maybe I'll tell you some highlights about my trip.......or not. Either way, I'm learning a lot and have a lot to look forward to. My goal for my last five months here is to have FUN, FUN, FUUUUUN! I'll try to include you in on some of the ensuing excitement!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-2523661045360591416?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/2523661045360591416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=2523661045360591416' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2523661045360591416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2523661045360591416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/02/playing-in-sandbox.html' title='Playing in the Sandbox'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-1432731265850564316</id><published>2008-02-03T12:56:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T13:01:14.540+02:00</updated><title type='text'>keeps going, going, going....and going.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a id="s-zlRQcVmyXTjYJx7nbL01rA:r-0-1_1127053460" href="http://www.voanews.com/english/2008-02-03-voa4.cfm"&gt;Chad Rebels Surrounding Presidential Palace&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a id="s-gjcqUVcP6F5LlzuwMxBz9w:r-1-0_1126358333" href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7224734.stm"&gt;Egypt reseals Gaza border breach&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a id="s-z9007xjN1_TEsQsyYmFjEA:r-1-1_1122160015" href="http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/World/Rest_of_World/Seven_killed_in_suicide_blast_on_Lanka_train/articleshow/2752833.cms"&gt;Seven killed in suicide blast on Lanka train&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a id="s-lf_-jj2Ck5GIfHowxA9Cjg:r-1-2_1125051941" href="http://edition.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/africa/02/03/kenya.violence/"&gt;Kenya opposition urges peacekeepers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a id="s-TZvi7g6lY67X4iRVaUnXSw:r-2-0_1127674908" href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/02/03/AR2008020300529.html"&gt;5 Shot Dead at Suburban Chicago Store&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a id="s-lw_GK2VOL3q8nRxI3h7r6A:r-6_1127491186" href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/02/02/AR2008020201492.html"&gt;Iraqi Officials Say as Many as 100 Killed in Bombings at City Markets&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-1432731265850564316?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/1432731265850564316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=1432731265850564316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1432731265850564316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1432731265850564316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/02/keeps-going-going-goingand-going.html' title='keeps going, going, going....and going.'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-1920808424805711882</id><published>2008-01-31T22:36:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T05:58:51.935+02:00</updated><title type='text'>fishy hands</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;2 Scissors, 2 sticks of glue, lots of paper, and even more smiles. A typical morning in the "Green Room" at the 57 3 57 Children's Hospital where I started volunteering this past Monday. Arriving around 10am, I spend the morning cutting, folding, drawing, and today, I got to be Aya's left hand (here left hand was too brusied from needles).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I work with the in-patients who have cancer. I hang out until 1:30ish teaching the children and their Mom's different crafts. These aren't complicated, technical crafts, just simple, easy, fold here, cut there, glue this types of crafts I learned growing up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Every two weeks, the hospital has a party for the children, so this week, I made crowns for the boys and girls on the 6th floor where I've been working. The excitement of the Mom's seeing their children receive this is reward enough! The Mom's are the nurses. They are at the hospital, dressed in grubs, rolling the IV machines around, pushing buttons, and doing whatever else they can to keep their children comfortable and happy (which isn't always easy).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;To get to the hospital, I catch a taxi to the Metro Station, take a 30min metro ride, and walk about 15 minutes through a part of Old Cairo. Old buildings lining streets full of goats, sheep, and blood from the local butcher shop; the clanging of ironsmiths, tin buckets full of coal, and old wooden stands full of delicious looking fruit whose vibrancy contrasts the dark hues of the old buildings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Walking through these steets brings a smile to my face. And yesterday, brought me fishy hands. As I began my little hike up the stairs to the metro, a few older ladies grasped to the railing with grocery bags full of fish. Relieving them of their load, I waited at the top, returned their fish, and went on my way.......with fishy hands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;While being squished by smelly men in the metro (I couldn't find the women's car again), the fishy hands served as a good reminder of why I'm here -- standing far too close to a pit full of un-deodarized arm..........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-1920808424805711882?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/1920808424805711882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=1920808424805711882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1920808424805711882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1920808424805711882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/01/fishy-hands.html' title='fishy hands'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-1622333284387802902</id><published>2008-01-29T18:36:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T10:04:15.160+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Brief Glimpse</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;On 5th January, Lianne and I left Egypt to travel with like-minded friends in order to experience another part of the Arab world. Our journey begins:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;3 hour flight, 1 hour drive through, 1 windy road through backroads, we arrive at our orientation destination. Still recovering from a week sick in bed, the last thing on my mind was making friends. Boy, was I in for a surprise...a few surprises!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;Orientation included information about the countries we were going to visit (our group of 15 split into 3 groups), places to visit, culture-appropriate behavior, and other travelling need-to-knows. I and three others comprised "Team Bahrain:" a fun-loving couple from Southern California, a Swiss-German-Jordanian, and myself the Half-Japanese from Hawaii. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;The four of us became a little family and really enjoyed our time together. The following is the first entry into our team journal, which I wrote each day. To read the others, please visit &lt;a href="http://thepowellpeople.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://thepowellpeople.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;11 January 2008Home: Hospital mazes and hyper-markets - Welcome to Bahrain!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And so, Team Bahrain begins: Aaron, Allison, Sarah, and Janean. Here we are, sitting at Gate 6 amused by our honorary 5th member, 20 Questions entertaining us with random questions such as, “Is it bigger than a pound of butter?” or “Does it bring joy to people?” Minding our own business, ignoring the awkward stares of others, our team bonding continues interrupted by a giggly toddler who decides to attack innocent Allison. It was more of a hit-and-run, minus the run. A waddle is more like it, and accompanied with a child’s rendition of the evil laugh, this little tyke succeeded in his endeavors, and his memory will forever be recorded in the happenings of Team Bahrain.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;20 Questions in pocket, luggage in tow, we finally land in Bahrain. Minus passport control’s suspicion of Janean’s identity, everyone made it through just fine. Hungry, tired, and full of eager anticipation, we load our cart – &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seven pieces of luggage, check&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Five team members, checkPassports, check&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hungry stomachs, double check&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stepping out of the airport, we are quickly greeted as the “three Americans and one Swiss-German-Jordanian.” I suppose no one had difficulties identifying us, obviously. Loading our luggage into two vehicles, we begin our journey through the extensive city of Bahrain toward the American Mission Hospital, which will be home for the next two weeks.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Parking across the street, we strap on our backpacks, roll our suitcases, and trek our way across the street, open the door to the hospital, and breath in the warm air in relief – we’re finally home! Elhamdulallah, right?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Or not. Little did we know what lay ahead: too many corners, a few elevator rides, one bridge, various doors until, at last, room 505 – Home sweet home! Following sighs of relief as we sink into the living room couches, quick introductions, we make our way to Bahrain Mall – food our goal. Nothing will stop us now. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;One hour later, here we sit, Allison and Aaron, the Cali couple, enjoy Japanese grill; Janean, the half-Jap from Hawaii and Sarah, the Swiss-German-Jordanian indulge in tasty Persian Grill. Diversity is an understatement. Finally fed, we begin our journey through the hyper-market. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yes, hyper-market, not to be confused with supermarket. Just imagine the excitement, or lack thereof, as four of us tired and fed, stroll, or lag rather, through too many aisles, filled with too many options, thinking of one thing: bed! With a common goal in mind, we persevere, pay, load up, and head home -- not so hyper. Day one, done.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-1622333284387802902?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/1622333284387802902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=1622333284387802902' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1622333284387802902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1622333284387802902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/01/three-weeks-three-countries-three-great.html' title='Brief Glimpse'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-702865381631837127</id><published>2008-01-27T22:23:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T22:30:32.742+02:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm baaaack!</title><content type='html'>i've returned from my adventures abroad. well, i'm still abroad...but now i'm not abroad &lt;em&gt;abroad&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;instead of giving you a play by play of the past three weeks, i will highlight a few events, lessons, and thoughts.  this will be best for you and for me. as the team journalist, i kept a faithful account of daily occurances and as a consistent journaler, recalling my thoughts and lessons will not be difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, i am going to bed right now. in the meanwhile, prepare yourself for what's to come. i'll try to make it worth your wait :) i hope all of you are well (i'm not sure who "all" entails).......but anyway. before i start (or continue) rambling, i'm going to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;goodnight, good morning, good afternoon....good bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-702865381631837127?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/702865381631837127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=702865381631837127' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/702865381631837127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/702865381631837127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/01/im-baaaack.html' title='i&apos;m baaaack!'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-8440431058915998616</id><published>2008-01-14T20:31:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T20:32:54.280+02:00</updated><title type='text'>o man. oman. ba rain. bahrain. gulf. golf...what more do you want?</title><content type='html'>i was in oman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am in bahrain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;will be in united arab emirates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and you will be updated, of course. lucky you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-8440431058915998616?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/8440431058915998616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=8440431058915998616' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8440431058915998616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8440431058915998616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2008/01/o-man-oman-ba-rain-bahrain-gulf.html' title='o man. oman. ba rain. bahrain. gulf. golf...what more do you want?'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-4254841512164745689</id><published>2007-12-27T19:28:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T15:30:30.633+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Can you hear?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I’m writing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; a song. The lyrics, my life. Each line a year. The chorus sung once. I’m writing a song, the lyrics won’t stop…….my pumping heart, the beat. My mind the melody. I feel the music moving through my veins with each breath I take. Each moment passing, the rhythm forever changed. I never know what’s next. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’re writing a song. The lyrics, your life. Each line a year. The chorus sung once. You’re writing a song, the lyrics won’t stop…..your pumping heart, the beat. Your mind the melody. The music moves through your veins with each breath you take. Each moment passing, the rhythm forever changed. You never know what’s next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re writing a song. The lyrics, our life. Each line a year. The chorus sung once. We’re writing a song, the lyrics won’t stop…..our pumping hearts, the beat. Our minds the melody. The music moves through our veins with each breath we take. Each moment passing, the rhythm forever changed. We never know what’s next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there he stands. The conductor. The grand orchestra, life. Instruments all around. The music never stops. Perpetual orchestrating. He takes our music, &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;no matter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; the lyrics or line, the rhythm or rhyme. the chorus sung once. He takes the beats, the melodies, whatever they may be. The music is always playing. Can you hear it? It’s pumping through our veins, from our hearts. The music is playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The music is always playing……….can you hear it? What type of person no longer hears the music? What does it take to forget the song? May you never stop singing……may the music continually continue. And when you close your eyes and take your last breath, may your ears be opened to the grandest orchestra echoing through the halls of eternity, vibrating through your soul as if you are the most prized piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Because you are.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Now sing your song. Live your life. Listen. Listen to the music pumping through your veins, through my veins. Through our veins.&lt;br /&gt;The music is always playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you hear it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*Written after witnessing a tragic head on collision between a mini SUV and motorcycle&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;today.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-4254841512164745689?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/4254841512164745689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=4254841512164745689' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4254841512164745689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4254841512164745689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/12/can-you-hear.html' title='Can you hear?'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-5896134071091878885</id><published>2007-12-16T20:29:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T20:55:02.101+02:00</updated><title type='text'>there's this lady i know...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;the more time you spend with someone, the more you adapt to each other.....some of his/her habbits become your own and your own become his/her.  this seems to happen without much notice, until one day, when you're not around this person, you realize how much s/he has become a part of you...is a part of you.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;so, there's this lady i know......she's a very talented lady:  a quick learner.  a master multi-tasker.  a generous friend, an even-more generous wife and mom.  she has always had a niche for art....for creativity whether she (or i) realized it or not.  she's always creating something.  in the past, it's been cross-stitch, stationary, and other random hobbies.  but in the past few years, she has stepped into a new realm beyond what any of us could have imagined.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;she spends countless hours creating, designing, preparing, and just exploring the world of stamps.  now, this doesn't mean she sits in her craft room learning new techniques to properly place a bunch of ink on paper. bend your wrist this way. hold the stamp that way. don't wiggle. don't wobble. firmly hold. count to three.  NO! from intricately elaborate cards, to cutsie little notes, to photo frames, albums, coasters, candles, candle holders, books, notebooks, or just about anything else you can imagine, she can make a project out of anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;it's a new world to be pioneered, and she has turned out to be quite the pioneer indeed! sure, many people have gone before her........but the pioneering has taken place in her own mind.  slowly, she has transformed from the lady who couldn't comprehend random stamping (if you asked her to randomly stamp snowflakes all over a piece of paper, you'd end up with "random order")...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;i'm happy to report that she has broken through and and now dominates the random technique........but more than that, she has blossomed into this wonderful creative woman who i am proud to call my mom.  i've always enjoyed arts and crafts of all sorts.  and it's taken awhile, but i'm excited to realize that, even though i couldn't see it and wouldn't have believed it then, my love for creativity and creating comes from this lady i know............this lovely lady i'm honored to call my mom!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;ps.  when i was really young, i couldn't decide what my favorite color was. how uncool! all the girls had favorite colors. so, i asked, "Mom what's your favorite color?"  "Well, all the colors are beautiful [like mother like daughter], but if i had to choose, i'd choose yellow."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;next day at school: "What's your favorite color, janean?"  "Yellow, definitely yellow."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-5896134071091878885?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/5896134071091878885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=5896134071091878885' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5896134071091878885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5896134071091878885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/12/theres-this-lady-i-know.html' title='there&apos;s this lady i know...'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-8318662354195653501</id><published>2007-12-14T20:08:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T21:17:52.240+02:00</updated><title type='text'>REVIEW: My Life, a Magically Mischievous Movie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;COMING TO YOU......&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R2LRoiHUu5I/AAAAAAAAAFE/8CNRqIjQEiY/s1600-h/cast.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143904218693024658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R2LRoiHUu5I/AAAAAAAAAFE/8CNRqIjQEiY/s400/cast.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R2LRcyHUu4I/AAAAAAAAAE8/mF1XGwdwYxc/s1600-h/yhst-18939555249341_1969_60710013.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;YOU WANT TO MISS THIS ONE....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Synopsis:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm always commenting on something; it's more like an ongoing narration of my life: &lt;strong&gt;"If my life was a movie, right now I'd......"&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;....knock down that huge stack of cereal boxes in the middle of my local grocery store&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;....hold the hand of the stranger walking next to me on the street&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;....join the choir on stage during the middle of a song&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;....jump into the meat cooler at the market pretending to be a dying cow or chicken &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;....take a serving spoon from Buca di Beppo....oh, wait, i did that&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;At a glance, destruction or embarrassment seem to be the leitmotifs. Not because I want to destroy or embarrass others, but I'm fascinated by PEOPLE'S REACTIONS. Juvenile, I know. For instance, &lt;em&gt;I thought it would be entertaining to watch every one's uncertain, awkward, unbelieving responses when I pushed the angel lady off her little podium (she was only about two feet off the ground) at the Christmas pageant last week...not because I wanted to hurt her, but because no one in that crowd would know what to do as my little, eager eyes appeared where this now fallen angel once stood.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Director's Comments:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Trust me, I will never make my life into a movie....for your sake . But, for those of you now concerned with my mental well-being, please note that this movie of my life is...i mean, would be....based completely on "what ifs" because that's exactly what they are. People wouldn't be harmed in the filming process. Rest assured. But, next time you see me remember that &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;you may just be the leading role in the next scene of &lt;strong&gt;My Life, a Magically Mischievous Movie&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-8318662354195653501?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/8318662354195653501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=8318662354195653501' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8318662354195653501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8318662354195653501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-life-magically-mischievous-movie.html' title='REVIEW: My Life, a Magically Mischievous Movie'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R2LRoiHUu5I/AAAAAAAAAFE/8CNRqIjQEiY/s72-c/cast.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-7898162590505633398</id><published>2007-12-12T19:42:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T19:57:43.641+02:00</updated><title type='text'>out of body</title><content type='html'>Have you experienced an "out-of-body" moment?  Not some mystical, self-actualization ecstasy achieved during hot yoga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you are, standing, sitting, talking, singing....and before you know it, you're preceiving yourself as if...well, as if you aren't really you.  Perhaps you see yourself from a bird's eye view doing whatever it is you're doing.  Or not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Boy #1: "Miss Gigi, yahehkaejalejrkj! heajkejkpodo! jijiownenci! menandnioigjio!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Boy #2: "No, Miss Gigi, ioeuwiqoiuio cmoinwk! xoyiowekn!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Girl #1: "Um, he saying that Abdel hit him."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Miss Gigi: "Ask him why he hit him."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Boy #3: "Jkjijew knozxem. wicon lekj!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Girl # 2: "Because he was going to make a goal so he grabbed his tshirt so he couldn't kick the football."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Boy #1, 2, 3, &amp;amp; 4: "joijwjnm ljknmoi! kojcijeknl! kjkwcoio! iclikenknrkloicivckilesfjklsrjhraljkjteklaw;jfrakefkasjfarjhgikajeifkjsdfjasle;kjfaeijfaioejfrajebnjhi igubinv uoienucisjd idjhfihdiufheiuhIWJDIOJDIKFJAI HIHFAIKJSDiejrofi ijfijiowjeakfn uhirjghehiftrajhifjekfjekljhaierjhfioefoiywgqw2pediqpikjnszmdiw2j ijeficneioqhouhf iojweijmvmo ooeifoidiu jfkenn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And then it happened:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Four sweaty, frustrated, competetive 2nd grade boys arguing in Arabic right after I broke up their little fight.  Two girls doing their best to translate the problem so Miss Gigi can "solve" the problem - you know, protect the innocent, punish the naughty.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Just imagine my reaction as I realize how horribly, ridiculously, hilariously humorous this situation must look.  I couldn't help but laugh....out loud.  No longer concerned with their problem, I just laugh.  Not sure what's going on.  They follow my lead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-7898162590505633398?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/7898162590505633398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=7898162590505633398' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7898162590505633398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7898162590505633398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/12/out-of-body.html' title='out of body'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-4703136143716571682</id><published>2007-12-09T16:15:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T16:33:28.380+02:00</updated><title type='text'>the way we do</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;who knew &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tableclothes&lt;/span&gt; could be so......useful:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R1v8cGnZdwI/AAAAAAAAAE0/PYcVvwWv7as/s1600-h/n506172621_234127_6862.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141980959315949314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R1v8cGnZdwI/AAAAAAAAAE0/PYcVvwWv7as/s400/n506172621_234127_6862.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;In case you're wondering, the tablecloth is on my head...not my legs :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-4703136143716571682?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/4703136143716571682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=4703136143716571682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4703136143716571682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4703136143716571682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/12/way-we-do.html' title='the way we do'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R1v8cGnZdwI/AAAAAAAAAE0/PYcVvwWv7as/s72-c/n506172621_234127_6862.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-993166522597071731</id><published>2007-12-08T17:09:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T17:14:49.408+02:00</updated><title type='text'>our white christmas......party</title><content type='html'>Christmas party at our flat.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R1q0s2nZdtI/AAAAAAAAAEc/oQ9UoASBugQ/s1600-h/DSC05892.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141620607264847570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R1q0s2nZdtI/AAAAAAAAAEc/oQ9UoASBugQ/s320/DSC05892.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;for more, check out:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://nwcollege.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2004373&amp;amp;l=8c105&amp;amp;id=167100372"&gt;http://nwcollege.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2004373&amp;amp;l=8c105&amp;amp;id=167100372&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-993166522597071731?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/993166522597071731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=993166522597071731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/993166522597071731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/993166522597071731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/12/our-white-christmasparty.html' title='our white christmas......party'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R1q0s2nZdtI/AAAAAAAAAEc/oQ9UoASBugQ/s72-c/DSC05892.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-7257764366995715970</id><published>2007-12-05T22:53:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T23:56:08.178+02:00</updated><title type='text'>muddy buddies, steak filets, and Grandpa Clause</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Where do I begin? With my problem-solving skills...or lack thereof...for over-dramatic 2nd graders who argue only in Arabic? With the presents wrapped in make-shift wrapping paper under our little Christmas tree decorated with red, heart-shaped lights and simple sparkling ornaments that were given to us? With the "White Christmas" Party that Lianne and I are hosting. With the miso soup I enjoyed last night thanks to the box full of happiness sent from those two wonderful people I get to call my parents (and thanks Grandma and Grandpa for the beef jerky -- you know me well :) Maybe I'll start with the muddy buddies I just made in preparation for our party. Or the rice krispies I still need to make. Or the large snowman I'm planning to make for that huge blank spot on our wall. Or the Christmas tablecloth I bought as a "splurge" item that doesn't even fit our table.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;As you can see, there are many places I can start. I suppose I'll start here: I LOVE peanut butter and oreos! Unfortunetly, just about EVERY bite full of American sweetness cost about, oh, maybe $1/bite at LEAST. Lianne and I hoped to make a gingerbread house; however, this miniture gingerbread house would cost us about L.E. 100 = $20! To give you an idea, I can buy a high-end, juicy, delicous steak filet for about L.E. 10...you got it, 10 steak filets for the cost of ONE gingerbread house.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Hmm....tempting:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140600123035317890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R1cUk2nZdoI/AAAAAAAAAD0/pYd933Gy0y0/s320/gingerbread%2520house%2520gavin%2520style.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;But my decision wasn't difficult...at all:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140599667768784498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R1cUKWnZdnI/AAAAAAAAADs/Ux_ZrGOZNJc/s320/ist2_2969664_filet_steak_ready_for_cooking.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Oh my goodness, right now, I would really enjoy a candycane slowly dissolving in sweet hot chocolate in an oversize mug cuddled on the couch in front of the fake fireplace my Mom assembles every year so we can hang our over-stuffed stockings resulting from an over-generous Mom. Interestingly, as the one in charge of putting gifts in the stockings (including her own), my Mom's stocking seems to be getting fatter each year. Funny how that works :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;This morning, I was thinking about the senses of Christmas. For me, Christmas &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;SMELLS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; like mint hot chocalate and Christmas pine dancing together in my nose (not the nicest image, I know). Christmas &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LOOKS&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;like snowy, Seattle streets lined with lights and single people walking their dogs mixed with decorated, tropical coconut trees, that assembled fireplace, and those little people we take out of the closet each winter and house them in their little village for the most exciting days of their year -- outside of their boxes, those poor people. Christmas &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;TASTES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; like a scrumptous candle-light dinner accompanied with too many sugar cookies and tight jeans. Christmas &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;SOUNDS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; like Christmas records crackling on my turntable. Christmas &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;FEELS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; like home.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;This year, Christmas will feel different. Not bad. Not lonely. Not gift-less (thankfully). Different. Quite. Lianne and I have come up with some ideas for our Christmas celebration. Together, will will smell, look, tastes, hear, and feel a new Christmas experience. Together, we will remember why we're celebrating. Yes, I will miss all the little cousins running around like head-less chickens full of blissful glee in anticipation for everything they've been wishing for. I will miss that pillow-stuffed Grandpa Clause ringing his fishing bell as all the great grandchildren (and I) sing Jingle Bells and as the youngest babies cry histerically because they don't recognize this long-bearded, square, pillow tummied Grandpa Clause. But I look forward to this experience. I look forward to the comfort of home and family next year. Until then, may you enjoy the holidays with a lot of family..........and food!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;A stoll down memory lane:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140610366532318866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R1cd5GnZdpI/AAAAAAAAAD8/HKye58NmCEc/s320/385779839_l.jpeg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140610366532318882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R1cd5GnZdqI/AAAAAAAAAEE/D3pIuYYjd-s/s320/458526784_l.jpeg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140610370827286194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R1cd5WnZdrI/AAAAAAAAAEM/KAxKpokOHdM/s320/l_04f769689fbddcb263c7aa2072446425.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140610370827286210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R1cd5WnZdsI/AAAAAAAAAEU/0RmoSB4TQvo/s320/l_5168610d3c6088dc500b5ece592c4a6e.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-7257764366995715970?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/7257764366995715970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=7257764366995715970' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7257764366995715970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7257764366995715970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/12/where-do-i-begin-with-my-problem.html' title='muddy buddies, steak filets, and Grandpa Clause'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/R1cUk2nZdoI/AAAAAAAAAD0/pYd933Gy0y0/s72-c/gingerbread%2520house%2520gavin%2520style.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-7325933521909778973</id><published>2007-11-28T17:19:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T17:29:52.554+02:00</updated><title type='text'>my life...bulleted</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;some of my automatic responses (IE. "wait!" "no!" "hurry" "let's go," "how are you," etc.) now come out in arabic.....even in &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;my dreams&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i'm feeling as though i'm lacking challenge in my life, which inevitably means i'm feeling a bit un-inspired. &lt;strong&gt;inspire me...please&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;there are NO craft stores, thrift stores, walmarts, or safeways....duh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;i almost got fired&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; (slightly exaggerated) from my volunteer job for "negligence" in one of my kindergarten classes.  some kid poked (or stabbed depending on how you look at it :) another kid with a pencil...but when the principal found out the real story, she pretty much &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;put her hand to the face&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; of the kid's furious dad. it's all fine...now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;my third official tahd-eesa came today. tahd-essa comes from the word for "stapler"...it's &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;arranged marriage&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; egyptian style - &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;staple two people together&lt;/span&gt; whether they like it or not.  but today, i found out that i would like it. i even got to see pictures. supposedly, my colleague's mom would love me....just like she does...just like her 24 year old brother would. hmm..&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;arab men - not too shabby&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;...let me think about it........thanks, but no thanks. flattering, nonetheless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i almost spent L.E. 70 for a jar of salsa and a bag of chips...yum, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;chips and salsa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. but i didn't. oh yeah, L.E. 80 = $16....that's a fortune here....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i think i'll be a preschool or kindergarten teacher when i grow up&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;a few of the younger boys (pre-k age.)are being a bit too friendly.....maybe my next lesson will be on the birds and the bees......that would be hilarious. oh those poor, little kindergartners...if i lived in a movie, i'd totally do it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;my roommate had her &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;HAND&lt;/span&gt; hanging out of the taxi window and the driver came extremely close to some guy bending over and she almost &lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;SMACKED THAT&lt;/span&gt; on accident.  i almost died of laughter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-7325933521909778973?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/7325933521909778973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=7325933521909778973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7325933521909778973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7325933521909778973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-lifebulleted.html' title='my life...bulleted'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-2495517771304202866</id><published>2007-11-23T19:14:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T19:56:06.680+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Vignettes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Children, chatter, chants:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The door opens slowly. First, peering through the opening door, I then take a step in. Eyes turn toward me. One voice begins: "MISS GIGI!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The others join in. "MISS GIGI!" The shouts synchronize to a beating chant:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Miss-Gi-Gi! Miss-Gi-Gi! MISS-GI-GI! MISS-GI-GI!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good moooorning!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"GOOOOOD MOOOORNING, MISS GIGI!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How are you today?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I AAAM FINE, THAAANK YOU!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, my morning begins with the Kindergarten 2 class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Scuffed Shoes&lt;/u&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bell rings, FINALLY! After a long day at school, there's nothing like riding in a bus full of chattering children and talkative teachers through the crazy Cairo streets. But where's our bus?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No bus....you know what that means:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"FOOTBALL!" Of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Miss Gigi!!! Play football!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Good thing&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; I wore my cute, expensive travel shoes offering the most comfort possible. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Good thing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; they're only going to get completely scuffed and scratched. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Good thing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I obviously have a choice in the matter.....football it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hands raised in victory as I score the first goal. Um, why are my hands the only one's raised? I turn around just in time to see my answers walking toward us. The principal and a teacher are coming. It's no secret, their wrath will soon be released upon these unsuspecting children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hahaha, suckahs!" is my first thought. These kids are in for it and just as the teachers arrive, I give the "&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I-can't-believe-you're-playing-football-when-you-should-be-waiting-for-the-bus-you-naughty-children"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; look. Being a teacher myself, they would NEVER say anything to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But secretly, I know they don't always know what to make of me -- a FEMALE teacher who enjoys playing with the children......or a child myself? It's a tough call, I know. It's been a predicament my whole life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at the end of the day, it's true......I'm just a girl who doesn't mind scuffed shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Just so you know, the teachers are by know means evil as "their wrath will soon be released upon these unsuspecting children" may make them seem.....seriously.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-2495517771304202866?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/2495517771304202866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=2495517771304202866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2495517771304202866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2495517771304202866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/11/vignettes.html' title='Vignettes'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-2996104158678688816</id><published>2007-11-19T21:24:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T21:40:33.738+02:00</updated><title type='text'>japanese janean...</title><content type='html'>i am japanese....ok, so i'm half japanese - hapa as they say in hawaii. this so exciting....yes, yes, ...i've been half japanese my whole life, i know....but still, i'm just as excited today as i am when i, as a wobbly tolder, asked my parents which half of my body was japanese....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was talking to a korean lady today....we were joking about being asian....and half asian. she said she could tell that i had some asian blood running through my veins (probably in my eyes ;) a generous compliment highlighting my day........she joked about her small eyes. i joked about my dad's small eyes.................... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps. i'm equally grateful for my other half......thanks, mom!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-2996104158678688816?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/2996104158678688816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=2996104158678688816' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2996104158678688816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2996104158678688816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/11/japanese-janean.html' title='japanese janean...'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-5804779311997441572</id><published>2007-11-16T09:22:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T09:52:41.415+02:00</updated><title type='text'>So, you want to marry me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Will you marry me?" His face turns red as the guy in front of us glances over his shoulder in shock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait a minute! How did I get into this situation, you may be wondering? Well, it's quite simple really. Let's rewind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we are, about fifteen of us on a bus. I just happen to sit next to one of two Romanian speakers on the bus. Having an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;knack&lt;/span&gt; for learning random phrases in other languages, I begin to show off what few phrases I've stored in my Romanian arsenal to my new Moldovan friend. But wait, I can't quite recall how to ask, "Will you marry me?" Why I ever knew this question in Romanian is besides the point. For the life of me, I cannot remember how to say it. I must know! So, of course, being the curious person I am and wanting to further supply my random Romanian phrase arsenal, I ask this very important question. Being the helpful Moldovan that he is, my friend clearly says, "Will you marry me" in Romanian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a sense of relief and wonderment as to how I could have ever forgot this phrase, I begin to repeat after him only to be interrupted as the only other Romanian speaker on the bus sitting a few seats in front of us glances over his shoulder with the i-can't-believe-what-i'm-hearing-i'm-about-to-freak-out look plastered on his face. Priceless!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let the explaining begin.........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-5804779311997441572?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/5804779311997441572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=5804779311997441572' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5804779311997441572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5804779311997441572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/11/so-you-want-to-marry-me.html' title='So, you want to marry me?'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-562900612064672275</id><published>2007-11-12T21:17:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T21:31:04.560+02:00</updated><title type='text'>so....I'm not Egyptian?</title><content type='html'>You don't say! Pardon my slight sarcasm. So here we are, Lianne and I, that is, minding our own business (like we always do, right?) while we shop for much needed supplies. As teachers, we must keep an adequate arsenal of red pens, white out, duct tape, etc....you know, the basics. Anyway, as we are paying for our supplies, Lianne makes a comment in Arabic and without a moment's hesitation, the cashier let's us know that her comment is Egyptian and ONLY for Egyptians to say...........we waited for him to crack a smile, or say "welcome to Egypt" or something.....but no. not even a glance from him. just a cold, pricey check to pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow, just wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quick update:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arabic lessons -- fantastic&lt;br /&gt;teaching -- great&lt;br /&gt;traveling -- greater&lt;br /&gt;having my own kitchen -- priceless......seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; going to go make some pancakes.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-562900612064672275?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/562900612064672275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=562900612064672275' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/562900612064672275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/562900612064672275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/11/soim-not-egyptian.html' title='so....I&apos;m not Egyptian?'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-7044703572334213280</id><published>2007-11-09T00:26:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T00:30:37.458+02:00</updated><title type='text'>photograffiti.....</title><content type='html'>For more pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://nwcollege.facebook.com/p.php?i=167100372&amp;amp;k=YXAZQY52T23MYJMGRF44V"&gt;http://nwcollege.facebook.com/p.php?i=167100372&amp;amp;k=YXAZQY52T23MYJMGRF44V&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;click on the picture to enter the album......there's three pages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week I visited a garbage village, the Garbage City, a recycling center, Sinai Peninsula -- St. Catherines, Mt. Sinai, Dahab, a bedouin camp. Blue Hole, and a few other places....you will see all of these in the album.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-7044703572334213280?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/7044703572334213280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=7044703572334213280' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7044703572334213280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7044703572334213280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/11/photograffiti.html' title='photograffiti.....'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-8298178242797740498</id><published>2007-11-07T20:42:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T00:14:10.136+02:00</updated><title type='text'>snap shots:</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It takes a really, ridiculously long time to upload photos....so I'll be adding a few each day:)  click on it to enlarge for more detail&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Garbage City:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIn9toanSI/AAAAAAAAAB0/X0wvW2rFo3E/s1600-h/DSC04798.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130206866703031586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIn9toanSI/AAAAAAAAAB0/X0wvW2rFo3E/s400/DSC04798.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Bacan, anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIn_doanTI/AAAAAAAAAB8/ZPuKXTHdu5w/s1600-h/DSC04822.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130206896767802674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIn_doanTI/AAAAAAAAAB8/ZPuKXTHdu5w/s400/DSC04822.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIoAdoanUI/AAAAAAAAACE/-vMQnFQdrPw/s1600-h/DSC04832.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130206913947671874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIoAdoanUI/AAAAAAAAACE/-vMQnFQdrPw/s400/DSC04832.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Look carefully for the woman in the pile of rubbish (clue: she has a box on her head)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIoBtoanVI/AAAAAAAAACM/2npjIYcqgec/s1600-h/DSC04843.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130206935422508370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIoBtoanVI/AAAAAAAAACM/2npjIYcqgec/s400/DSC04843.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIoDNoanWI/AAAAAAAAACU/4AokqhBl5TY/s1600-h/DSC04847.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130206961192312162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIoDNoanWI/AAAAAAAAACU/4AokqhBl5TY/s400/DSC04847.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; child's perspective&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIYRdoanNI/AAAAAAAAABM/4OjrkJCshWI/s1600-h/DSC04742.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130189613819403474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIYRdoanNI/AAAAAAAAABM/4OjrkJCshWI/s400/DSC04742.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIYStoanOI/AAAAAAAAABU/9Mi8N5IHYsY/s1600-h/DSC04795.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130189635294239970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIYStoanOI/AAAAAAAAABU/9Mi8N5IHYsY/s400/DSC04795.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIYT9oanPI/AAAAAAAAABc/ol_ISWtTB5E/s1600-h/DSC04755.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130189656769076466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIYT9oanPI/AAAAAAAAABc/ol_ISWtTB5E/s400/DSC04755.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; playing in his front yard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIYU9oanQI/AAAAAAAAABk/biW-kiPyxqY/s1600-h/DSC04761.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130189673948945666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIYU9oanQI/AAAAAAAAABk/biW-kiPyxqY/s400/DSC04761.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIYYNoanRI/AAAAAAAAABs/ZDpjsKfbGVk/s1600-h/DSC04779.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130189729783520530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIYYNoanRI/AAAAAAAAABs/ZDpjsKfbGVk/s400/DSC04779.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-8298178242797740498?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/8298178242797740498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=8298178242797740498' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8298178242797740498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8298178242797740498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/11/snap-shots.html' title='snap shots:'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RzIn9toanSI/AAAAAAAAAB0/X0wvW2rFo3E/s72-c/DSC04798.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-4278604131633724462</id><published>2007-10-28T22:45:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T23:20:27.691+02:00</updated><title type='text'>two months......</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;so far, this has been my longest "overseas relationhship." almost two months. it's about this time that i'm emerging from the first honeymoon stage (i'm sure there will be more to come). it's easy to be flexible and "roll with the punches" while everything is exciting and new. don't get me wrong, even after a year, i know excitement will be lurking behind some pyramid or under some camel....but after a year, the bruises left by some of those punches may be a bit more painful without the numbing effects of the honeymoon stage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;however, here are a few realizations: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;after this year, i will have spent five years away from home (well, i spent one semester at home);&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;two months is not that long at all, but being two months into an eleven month program leaves nine months (i've always loved math, can you tell :);&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;a year is also not that long and will fly by, i'm sure....but there are moments when a year seems too long -- too long to be away from the ones you love, the ones you want to love, the things you love, the places you love, and yes, the FOOD you love! :) one year leads to another year...and another....soon it's five years.....ten years.....how much longer?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;life is about balancing dreams -- grand, life-long dreams with more immediate dreams. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;balancing the dreams/goals and not focusing too much on either one is crucial. it's like snorkling, if you have your head under the water all the time, you'll eventually end up too far out to sea, but if you have your head out of the water all the time, you may not get lost, but you'll miss out on what's right beneath your feet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;To my dear friends and family who take the time to check in, please,please, please pray for the following:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;patience and perseverance (lots of it)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;joy and enthusiasm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;wisdom and more patience&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;humility and courage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;and......i left my cell phone in the back of a taxi...it's not retriveable :( a lost quite a few contacts that i'm afraid i may not be able to get back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;aaaaannndd...it's my birthday tomorrow. please where a tutu in honor my my two-two birthday (22....wwwhhheeeeewwwww!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have been learning and growing a lot (just ask my Mom, she'd be glad to share a few stories :), and I know your prayers have helped me. His guidance and faithfulness in some stressful situations have left me humbled and desiring to know Him more. There's a point where it's absolutely OBVIOUS that I cannot handle (or will not handle) a situation adequately....instead of "I told you so," I constantly hear, "Be still, wait patiently for me......" (Psalm 37). In those moments, my waiting has not proved to be in vain. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'd be glad to share stories if you're interested. But for now, my Mom is the keeper of a few recent stories..........she likes to talk about me (and if she talks about me half as much as she'd like to talk TO me, then prepare yourself for a novel of a time :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thank you so much for your faithfulness to Him that has so abundantly blessed me!!! Rest assured that I am doing my best for His glory...your generosity will extend as far as He'll use me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-4278604131633724462?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/4278604131633724462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=4278604131633724462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4278604131633724462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4278604131633724462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/10/two-months.html' title='two months......'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-8360456274671650329</id><published>2007-10-19T14:24:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T14:44:02.351+02:00</updated><title type='text'>m3lsh (m-A-lish).....</title><content type='html'>Here's your Arabic word for the day -- m-A-lish.  there's no word in the english alphabet that resembles the 'A'.....so, when writing arabic w/the english alphabet, we use 3.  it's like a deep A sound that comes from the bottom of your mouth and the back of your throat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, this word transcends language into culture.  my language teacher told me that language and culture are closely tied together here, and this is the a great example of this truth.  what does it mean? well, let me tell you what i know and have observed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someone drops a plate full of food on the ground - m3lish!&lt;br /&gt;someone arrives an hour late -- m3lish!&lt;br /&gt;someone goes out of their way to help you -- m3lish!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;3la&lt;/em&gt; = on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mish&lt;/strong&gt; - not&lt;br /&gt;put them together - &lt;strong&gt;m&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;3la&lt;/em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;ish&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;essentially, this means, "it's not on your head" or "it's not on you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"no problem," "don't worry about it," "forget it," etc. meshie? (ok?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is the technical term used when speaking; however, in order to demonstrate the transcendence of this word into reality and it's obvious obviousness in the Egyptian culture, i'm going to use the tern m3lishishness....meshie? m3lish-ish-ness......fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the midst of crazy cairo traffic, horns honk, drivers weave in, out, through,  or any other way they can move quickly......and then some silly person cuts him/her off. perhaps a few words and then coh-loss (finish!).  if you dropped a street full of unsuspecting, western drivers in the middle of traffic here, apocalypse would ensue.........i guess, m3lish is like patience, forgiveness, and laid-back-ness incorporated into one word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, remember that i've only been here for about six weeks and with more time, i will learn more aspects to this word and cultural concept..........until then!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-8360456274671650329?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/8360456274671650329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=8360456274671650329' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8360456274671650329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8360456274671650329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/10/m3lsh-m-lish.html' title='m3lsh (m-A-lish).....'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-7113991202886828498</id><published>2007-10-09T20:56:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T20:58:48.095+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i stole this &lt;a href="http://aprilchristeen.blogspot.com/2007/10/its-rough-sometimes.html"&gt;http://aprilchristeen.blogspot.com/2007/10/its-rough-sometimes.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Autumn&lt;br /&gt;The leaves are falling, falling as from far off,&lt;br /&gt;as though far gardens withered in the skies;&lt;br /&gt;they are falling with denying gestures.&lt;br /&gt;And in the nights the heavy earth is falling&lt;br /&gt;from all the stars down into loneliness.&lt;br /&gt;We are all falling. This hand falls.&lt;br /&gt;And look at others; it is in them all.&lt;br /&gt;And yet there is One who holds this falling&lt;br /&gt;endlessly gently in his hands.&lt;br /&gt;Rainer Maria Rilke&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-7113991202886828498?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/7113991202886828498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=7113991202886828498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7113991202886828498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/7113991202886828498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-stole-this-httpaprilchristeen.html' title=''/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-3522964224654104329</id><published>2007-10-08T18:48:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T19:10:03.467+02:00</updated><title type='text'>you want a grape....how bout'a date, eh?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;6 October work for you? it sure works for these fantastically entertaining egyptians! for those of you not familiar with this date and its significance to my new frieds, a quick google search can enlighten you to the irony of &lt;em&gt;their celebration&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;my weekend started on thursday when i missed my bus to school. oops. but it's really not my fault. the bus came early. no complaints here, i took advantage of this unexpected freedom. then i joined my fellow teachers in the breaking of the fast (it's ramadan). then i embarked on a journey with some friends to enjoy TCBY. trust me, it's NOT This Country's Best Yogurt!!!! at least i know for next time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;my weekend extended through sunday because saturday was a holiday. weekends can be quite confusing here. a weekend is either friday and sunday or friday and saturday....so i got it all off! sweet is an understatement :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;my social networking continues successfully to extend into various communities with people of varying perspectives on life. when someone here considers you a friend, you REALLY ARE A FRIEND....not any of this, well, "let's be friends but not &lt;em&gt;friends friends &lt;/em&gt;(i.e. bestest buddies)." friends are friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;i had a short conversation with one of my taxi drivers (in arabic, of course)....that was exciting. i lied...it was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;VERY EXCITING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;okay, i think that's enough excitement to last awhile. i'm going to be quite the busy bee the next ten days or so......so if you don't hear from me for awhile, just wait longer! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;oh, and dad, you'd be so proud. i went bowling and got 6 spares and 2 strikes! ok, ok...don't get too excited...it's embarassing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;until next time, blessings on you, and THANK YOU for &lt;em&gt;everything&lt;/em&gt;....really!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-3522964224654104329?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/3522964224654104329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=3522964224654104329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3522964224654104329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/3522964224654104329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/10/you-want-grapehow-bouta-date-eh.html' title='you want a grape....how bout&apos;a date, eh?'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-4229418420577072308</id><published>2007-10-03T20:24:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T21:43:18.363+02:00</updated><title type='text'>burnt feet and cow chips - welcome to egypt</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;it all started&lt;br /&gt;with a game of football.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wait, no. it started with twenty wasted matches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;light a match, push a button, hold for one minute, and wa-lah! you have heated water. twenty matches later, the starter finally, well, STARTS!!! of course, i hide the used, wasted matches at the bottom of the rubbish can so my landlady won't get mad at me for wasting her precious matches. i'll buy her new ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you'd think that, with the heater started, a nice hot shower follows. yeah, no! the shower consists of constant adjustments so i'm not freezing into an ice cube or frying like an egg -- the balance is delicately IMPOSSIBLE..................&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;but not today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; twenty matches later, it was perfect. which is why i didn't pack a lunch. i spent my precious lunch preparation time in the shower. which explains why, half way through my day, i'm strolling through the school's snack shop choosing between candy or chips for lunch....or a little of both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today, i chose chips. but not just any chips. in true egyptian cousine (as i'm learning), i chose "Kebab" chips. yes, meat-flavored chips. chips bursting with cow flavor. perfect for us beef lovers who need a quick fix for those carnivourous craves. i had to try this...........i felt like i was eating fried potatoes prepared in left over roastbeef ajeu (spelling?)....who needs TGIFridays? i get my meat and potatoes in a bag. luckily for me, i grew up snacking (and on occassion, feasting) on military MREs.....this wasn't too far of a stretch...no offense chris, jared, and dad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so how, you may ask, did i end up with burnt feet? while, it turns out that &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;i wasn't lying when i said i was coming to egypt to play in the sand....i just didn't realize i'd be doing in barefoot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;but that's what i get for selfishly spending my time in the shower this morning. not only did i steal my lunch prepartion period from myself, i managed to frivoulously spend the "rational, reasonable contemplation of what-to-wear" time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;therefore, i showed up to school in comfortable slacks with a cute shirt/dress thing, and comfortable, sassy sandals.....did i mention i'm the official PE teacher? and probably the only female PE teacher in Egypt who participates in all of my planned activities...including football.....but every rational, reasonable PE teacher doesn't come to work as cute as I obviously had...and if they do, they come prepared with PE attire. my bad. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffff33;"&gt;but, my cuteness didn't stop me (does it ever? ;).....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;shoes came off, slacks rolled up, the games began. at least football requires lots of movement, which keeps the foot to sand-covered concrete connection to a bare minimum (pardon the pun)......just wait until volleyball starts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;egypt continues to welcome me with arms wide open.......and i receive her sweet embrace!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffff33;"&gt;until next time, your continued thoughts, emails, comments, and encouragment has been and continues to be very much appreciated :) i cannot emphasize how much your encouragement extends through all the excitement and exhaustion!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-4229418420577072308?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/4229418420577072308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=4229418420577072308' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4229418420577072308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4229418420577072308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/10/burnt-feet-and-cow-chips-welcome-to.html' title='burnt feet and cow chips - welcome to egypt'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-5556920955785665566</id><published>2007-10-01T21:34:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T21:36:46.131+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dear Grandpa and Grandma,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About eight or nine years ago, I persuaded Chris to switch rooms with me.  With white walls and wide windows, Chris had no problems moving into my room.  Being the considerate brother that he is, he made sure that I knew he was getting the better end of the deal.  Insisting that this dark-walled, smaller room would be great preparation for college, I moved downstairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little did I know how this switch would change my life.  As you know, I practically moved into the garden.  I always knew when you, Grandpa, were picking tangerines, transplanting orchids, rearranging the gardens, or slicing slugs.  But most importantly, I was always first to know that when it was dinnertime because you, Grandma, always needed to give Grandpa extra time to get ready for dinner.  So, you would find Grandpa in the garden and let him know it was dinner.  With my young ears, I would hear you the first time, but with ears far more experienced than mine, you would need to repeat yourself once, maybe twice before you, Grandpa, knew it was dinner; and thus, making me the first to know it was dinnertime!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knew that this switch would change my life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years later, I moved to Seattle into what I like to call a hole (also known as a dorm room!), and all that preparation paid off.  The excitement of being single in Seattle will never outweigh the greatest lesson I learned during my first few months at college.  A mentor encouraged me to start listening to people’s stories.  He especially insisted that I listen to those people in my life who will not be around to tell their stories in the coming years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is when I realized that the two people upstairs were more than just my babysitters while growing up, were more than just my grandparents; this is when you, Grandma and Grandpa, became actual people to me.  This is when I realized that you both had a life before me, before my Dad, before each other.  This is when I began to learn your stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These realizations quickly developed into a grateful appreciation for the many blessing I have – especially my family.  You two have worked hard and have taken much time to ensure that we as a family take care of each other, help each other out, and be involved in each others lives.&lt;br /&gt;As the stories were shared, my appreciation grew into a new respect and, eventually, into a new, deeper love for you.  Your dedication to your family inspired me, and with your love and time, you established a legacy – a legacy, which I am very honored to be apart of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have filled my stomach with satisfaction, my mind with many wonderful memories, and my heart with great happiness.  I cannot emphasize how honored I am to be apart of your family.  As the youngest grandchild, I have a unique relationship bridging the generation before me and after me.  I see the ones before me and play with the young ones after me.  And each one of them, each one of us, will always be loved, will never be forgotten, and will always be remembered because of the legacy you have established with years of love and dedication to the generations that will continue long after you are gone.  With great honor and respect, my children will know who they are and where they came from; they will know Yutaka and Sadako Ikeda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From across the globe, to the little island I call home, I send you my love!  Thank you so much for EVERYTHING you have given me – your love, your time, your stories, your memories, and all the opportunities you have helped me pursue!  Thank you for your dedication before you knew I would be here and after I arrived.  I thank God for you everyday and ask for His blessings on your life.  Even though I’m a world away from you, I am honored to be your physical grandchild and your spiritual sister in our Lord Jesus Christ who has showered us with many blessing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all my heart and sincerity, I LOVE YOU, GRANDMA AND GRANDPA!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Janean&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-5556920955785665566?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/5556920955785665566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=5556920955785665566' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5556920955785665566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5556920955785665566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/10/dear-grandpa-and-grandma-about-eight-or.html' title=''/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-542822842655607192</id><published>2007-09-30T16:50:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T17:35:10.100+02:00</updated><title type='text'>exhuastion, excitement, entertainment...</title><content type='html'>today is the first day i have  nothing scheduled since i started working and taking arabic lessons. lianne and i continue our ventures around the city -- or at least this side of the nile :) the east side, that is.  due to a sketched map that my friend drew, we are piecing together complicated cairo where straight roads are rare and traffic lights, painted lines, and arrows merely decorate streets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have some fun opportunities to hang out with my new egyptian friends.  although the fun ensues, frustration creeps in as i assert twice the amount of energy to engage those around me leaving me exhausted.  relationships are important to me -- i enjoy getting to know people and finding out what they think and who they are. however, lacking arabic-speaking skills greatly hinders, or greatly slows, this process.  most of the time, this motivates me to study harder and spend more time with my friends, fellow teachers, and other arabic speaking people.  but there are times when i feel like a burden to those who must translate.....or feel awkward as conversations continue and jokes are laughed at....and i have no idea what's going on.  this is a good portion of the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is inevitable. my determination to learn constantly brings me back to these situations where, as awkward and sometimes annoying as they can be, i can learn. patience with myself and others is so important, but this is way easier said than done, especially when you're the outsider.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while on our adventure about (lianne's canadian...notice her influence upon me?) the city, we happen upon a starbucks. we enter - mistake number one. we order - mistake number two. we indulge - mistake number three. we'll stick to more domestic enjoyments from now on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;all in all, i'm learning a lot (obviously), enjoying my new life in egypt, and setting practical expectations for myself -- i will not learn arabic overnight, and once i do become more proficient, i will NEVER be a native speaker. such is life. but i will do my best to learn as much as i can while i'm here and have a great time doing it. i feel like i'm giving a motivational speech of some sort. silly me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-542822842655607192?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/542822842655607192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=542822842655607192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/542822842655607192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/542822842655607192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/09/exhuastion-excitement-entertainment.html' title='exhuastion, excitement, entertainment...'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-1159516096929524491</id><published>2007-09-26T15:44:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T16:22:38.998+02:00</updated><title type='text'>as you can see,</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9900;"&gt;i have visited the pyramids and petted the sphinx.....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, maybe i didn't get that close, but if there wasn't a huge hole surrounding him guarded by armed soldiers/police people, i definitely would've........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9900;"&gt;i have floated on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;nile&lt;/span&gt; and dipped my fingers in its cool current.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9900;"&gt;teaching continues to go quite well. i can now read and write in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;arabic&lt;/span&gt;; although, my vocabulary is quite limited and my pronunciation quite......foreign. with diligence and patience, i think i will be quite proficient by the end of my time here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; making friends from various communities, which provides me with exposure to all types of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;egyptian&lt;/span&gt; life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;so far, i haven't experienced very much, if any cultural &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;shock. honestly, the community aspect here reminds me of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;hawaii&lt;/span&gt;. people are friendly, welcoming, and helpful. the fruits and vegetables are similar. preparation of food is, obviously,different, but not as nearly exotic as i had expected/hoped. since &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;connoisseur&lt;/span&gt; and explorer of food, i have quite a cultured palate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9900;"&gt;i've never really been one to get home-sick. i tend to enjoy myself wherever i'm at...every little experience is an adventure for me, and since one year is not that long, i want to make the most of my time here. i have learned a lot so far and have much more to learn.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff9900;"&gt;SHOKRAN (shoh-kran -- roll the r) "Thank you" to all of you who have been sending me your love! i love getting emails full of encouragement.......don't stop (hint hint ;) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff9900;"&gt;class is cancelled today...i think i'm going to read....on second thought, i think i'll watch a movie. after eating two-three mangos...they're going out of season and are SOOO delicious. the slight sickness that follows overindulgence is well worth the minutes it takes me to devour these juicy, sweet fruits from heaven.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-1159516096929524491?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/1159516096929524491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=1159516096929524491' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1159516096929524491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1159516096929524491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/09/as-you-can-see.html' title='as you can see,'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-1437219500259493516</id><published>2007-09-22T19:52:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T22:01:43.284+02:00</updated><title type='text'>sneak peak:</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RvVroU5psxI/AAAAAAAAAA0/xeeHSZxiW1Q/s1600-h/Picture+090.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113111292498522898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RvVroU5psxI/AAAAAAAAAA0/xeeHSZxiW1Q/s400/Picture+090.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RvVrok5psyI/AAAAAAAAAA8/8JKO7EDg-QY/s1600-h/Picture+073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113111296793490210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RvVrok5psyI/AAAAAAAAAA8/8JKO7EDg-QY/s400/Picture+073.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RvVrpU5pszI/AAAAAAAAABE/wO_-apIcQGg/s1600-h/DSC04213.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113111309678392114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RvVrpU5pszI/AAAAAAAAABE/wO_-apIcQGg/s400/DSC04213.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RvVf005pswI/AAAAAAAAAAs/wmIvFF17cbs/s1600-h/Picture+062.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113098313107354370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RvVf005pswI/AAAAAAAAAAs/wmIvFF17cbs/s400/Picture+062.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RvVZpE5psvI/AAAAAAAAAAk/2pRf9FNlt5Y/s1600-h/Picture+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113091514174124786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RvVZpE5psvI/AAAAAAAAAAk/2pRf9FNlt5Y/s400/Picture+022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-1437219500259493516?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/1437219500259493516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=1437219500259493516' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1437219500259493516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/1437219500259493516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/09/sneak-peak.html' title='sneak peak:'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/RvVroU5psxI/AAAAAAAAAA0/xeeHSZxiW1Q/s72-c/Picture+090.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-4126564565224469117</id><published>2007-09-20T15:25:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T19:19:51.897+02:00</updated><title type='text'>it's been....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;...one week and two days since i landed in this grand gateway where africa meets near east, meets europe, meets mediterranean. i'll update you according to a tentative outline to spare you from my randomness -- thoughtful, i know :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOOD - FRIENDS - FAMILY - FUN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[For those of you who haven't figured this out, i thoroughly enjoy alliteration and absolutely appreciate the consonants f and l...the most important nouns can be found with f -- as stated above -- and the most important verbs begin with l -- living, loving, laughing, learning, listening, lighting (those around you)......this list is not extensive but adequate.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FOOOOOD!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let me paint a brief vignette of my current setting......in a cafe, eating a panini hawawsheni and sipping mango juice. now, this is not the italian panini; it's more like an egyptian style pita with this meat -- hawawsheni. delicious! and for the mango juice, imagine throwing a fresh mango into a cup and drinking it......this makes odwalla taste like, i dunno 0.23333% juice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lianne and i enjoy simple sandwiches prepared with whatever we buy from street vendors and small stores...our favorite it the "happy family" store....and it sure makes us one happy family. um, moving on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;FAMILY!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a few families. at the school i work with, i have a faculty full of friendliness. they are very helpful, and we exchange english/arabic lessons. great&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the student i teach make another family...today, i taught poetry to 13-14 year olds. loved it. and as of today, i am the official PE teacher at my school. my students were impressed with my futbol skills b/c none of the girls at the school ever play....that doesn't say much for my skill level (or lack thereof) but it was fun.....and very hotter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i have my van fam -- the people i ride to and from school with each day. yesterday, they decided to help me practice my arabic.....my students generously help me, their "mooh dah ressa" - teacher.&lt;br /&gt;then i have my lessons, which are going quite well. i spend a lot of time studying on my own (mostly between classes), and practicing with my van family love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then my hawaii family -- you have been very generous in ALL your support...thank you! and of course, my family family -- i love you :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;FRIENDS AND FUN&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are fantastic.....we went horseback riding in the desert to see the sun setting behind the pyramids...nothing too special :) although, we were a bit late to see the sunset...but then we floated on the nile in a really chill boat thing....i forgot the name. we enjoyed some syrian cuisine....and tomorrow lianne and i are going on a tour of the pyramids. this weekend is going to be mass busy.....more stories in the making.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and for those of you who have stuck around until now, i'll entertain you with a.......silly situation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my first trip to the bathroom at my school: i got stuck in it....seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for three to four minutes - STUCK - which of course, feels like an eternity when your stranded in a bathroom in a foreign country. needless to say, i made it out and lived to tell about it....lucky you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-4126564565224469117?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/4126564565224469117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=4126564565224469117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4126564565224469117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4126564565224469117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/09/its-been.html' title='it&apos;s been....'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-2797986359376082610</id><published>2007-09-17T20:28:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T21:27:39.889+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Overview...and then some</title><content type='html'>Ok....I have enough time for a quick update....which means, short update -- lucky you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'm working 25 hours at the school, which entails teaching fun songs and planning activities allowing the students to practice their English...and have some fun. This is great for me. First, they love me b/c I'm white (or half love me b/c I'm half white ;), but more importantly, I bring the fun factor through the roof compared to their other classes. Next week, I'll be teaching poetry to Primary 4 (about 9-10 year olds) including Blake, Shakespeare, Stevenson, and a few more. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's insanely incredible how disciplined these children are. These 7-8 year olds stay in the same classroom all day (with breaks, of course), and the teachers rotate.....the classes are like boxes with desks and a blackboard -- nothing entertaning or inspiring. They listen to lectures, take notes, and PAY ATTENTION all day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've now completed two Arabic lessons, each 2 1/2 hours long. I can write and read Arabic (at an elementary level, of course)...and my vocabulary is practically non-existent. I can sing the first verse of a song. I can count to ten. I even sat in the kindergarten's Arabic lesson at school today. Fantastic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The apartment....or back room situation is fine. Lianne and I are so busy we're usually eating or sleeping when at home OR chilling on our balcony . Otherwise, you can find me at one of the many produce vendors in the neighborhood, at the cafe using their free internet, working at school, at my Arabic lessons, at a meeting, or, in tomorrow's case, HORSEBACK riding with some of my new Egyptian friends!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;A FEW HIGHLIGHTS:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I fell out of my bus (it's just a van) face forward while it was slightly moving (they don't really stop...more like a California roll). That was great. Lianne and I caught a taxi today (a fairly frequent activity)....but a tire popped, so he ran out of the car, started jacking it up with us in it...we were obviously too heavy, it wouldn't work. He finally fixed it. He couldn't find our destination. He picked up some other guy (also not unusual) who tried helping us find our destination. This other guy got out of the car and started running in front of us in an effort to find our location. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So, for two blocks we followed a man running through the streets while the frustrated driver muttered what I imagine to be &lt;em&gt;absolutely kind comments&lt;/em&gt; under his breath while clapping his hands in an effort to &lt;em&gt;cheer&lt;/em&gt; himself up........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;MOST IMPORANTLY,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the mosquito situation has been minimalized:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/Ru7JwchXSpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/m6ahRcLioWI/s1600-h/DSC04197.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111244461239126674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/Ru7JwchXSpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/m6ahRcLioWI/s400/DSC04197.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111254283829332642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/Ru7SsMhXSqI/AAAAAAAAAAU/gcNOTbilLVQ/s400/DSC04199.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;MUAHAHAHHAHA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111256963888925362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/Ru7VIMhXSrI/AAAAAAAAAAc/jCMIop2H5pA/s400/DSC04200.JPG" border="0" /&gt;I'm completely swamped and horribly busy every single day. I'm exhausted, so very !exhausted. But even more excited for all that I'm learning and experiencing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, this update's not so short afterall.....just be glad I don't have more time - stories are endless, experiences are priceless, and time is...running out - salam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-2797986359376082610?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/2797986359376082610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=2797986359376082610' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2797986359376082610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2797986359376082610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/09/overviewand-then-some.html' title='Overview...and then some'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_A4H7EwyIYIA/Ru7JwchXSpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/m6ahRcLioWI/s72-c/DSC04197.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-4821613167078938631</id><published>2007-09-16T20:14:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T20:56:56.234+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Egypt -- beyond the mosquitos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FOR THE STRONG AT HEART: FULL LENGTH&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;SHORTER VERSION AVAILABLE AT THE END :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Alright...where to begin. I have moments of complete fascination of the culture and anticipation of really engaging the people once I've learned more Arabic...I start lessons tomorrow, FINALLY! I'm currently drowning in rooms full of foreign words....many, many foreign words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Despite the differences and lack of communication, this weekend brought many changes. Lianne, my roommate who has a cat at home named MOJOJOJO, and I moved into our land-lady's apartment because the current tenants in our flat haven't moved out yet. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sooooo&lt;/span&gt;, we'll be living in this back room accompanied with a bathroom and balcony....It's livable. It's an adventure. I'll post pictures soon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tonight, we enjoyed our first meal prepared by our own hands....While I was at work, Lianne went grocery shopping for food and basic &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;necessities&lt;/span&gt; like...TOILET PAPER. We have to carry little packs w/us. Definitely not a public commodity. Anyway, Lianne prepared a feta cheese and tomato dip for our pita-like bread. I bought some guava, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mangoes&lt;/span&gt;, pomegranate, and dates to accompany our grapes and pita.....and bottled water (trying to keep stomach issues, along w/excessive trips to the bathroom to a minimum). So far, I've had no problems. sweet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well, at 7am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mena&lt;/span&gt; Language School bus pulled &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;in front&lt;/span&gt; of our apartment to take me, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Jeffery&lt;/span&gt;, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Meh&lt;/span&gt;-ah (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;sp&lt;/span&gt;?) -- my land lady's grandsons -- to school. I observed primary 2, 3, and 4, and will begin teaching conversational English tomorrow. Essentially, I have the freedom to sing songs, play games, and well...do what I do best -- tell kids what to do!!! AND all in English, sweet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;At 1:15, the bus takes everyone home, but tomorrow, I will get dropped off at my first Arabic lesson......&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;wooohooooooo&lt;/span&gt;!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Let me give you a brief description of a typical bus ride to school. First off, imagine New York driving w/no rules...for those of you familiar w/drivers in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Napoli&lt;/span&gt; (Naples), Italy, imagine that.....times ten! It's great. Each drive is like a roller coaster ride w/out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;guaranteed&lt;/span&gt; satisfaction! I'm still trying to figure out why they spend money installing traffic lights and painting lines on the ground (I think the city workers must get bored)....seriously, madness is the method - I LOVE it! Honking is like breathing....if you stop, you die. No joke. I can't tell who has the right away, pedestrians or drivers......I like to think of it as a dance, and I still can't figure out who's leading. Essentially, to cross the street, you just close your eyes and walk. They stop when they ABSOLUTELY have to. But, if you don't walk, they don't stop. I now have an idea of what Peter must have felt stepping out of the boat :) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, that's a bit melodramatic...but seriously, it's great!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well, Lianne and I are at a cafe called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Pastaccino&lt;/span&gt;, which is near our flat and has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Wi&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;fi&lt;/span&gt;. I'm emailing, blogging, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;myspacing&lt;/span&gt;, etc., and she's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;skyping&lt;/span&gt; on my computer (thanks, mom); soon, we'll switch....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, that's about enough...I hope this blog satisfies those who were tired of hearing about Egyptian &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;mosquitoes&lt;/span&gt;.........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FOR THE WEAK AT HEART: SUMMARY&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Excitement ensues. Great adventures. Tiring immersion. Sometimes I'm swimming in this foreign sea and find myself looking for a life raft full of English words and hugs (so send them my way!)...Even though I'll still be a foreigner once I learn Arabic, I will not be so much of an outsider....CAN'T WAIT! Today, i just wanted to come home to a nice, big, lovely, engulfing hug......Oh, I haven't mentioned, but life is a bit crazy since it's Ramadan, which changes everyday living quite significantly. On Friday, we're going to the Pyramids, YAY! On Wednesday, I'm going horseback riding with some new friends. That's about it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;dis-bah-how-ala-kheir! (phonetically version of goodnight)....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-4821613167078938631?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/4821613167078938631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=4821613167078938631' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4821613167078938631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/4821613167078938631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/09/egypt-beyond-mosquitos.html' title='Egypt -- beyond the mosquitos'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-5503500552184145265</id><published>2007-09-15T10:02:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T10:07:21.780+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Of midnight mantras....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;....sorry about last night's episodes...episode 1 i wrote the night before. episode 2 was the result of another mosquito attack last night.......and somehow, telling the world of my midnight mosquito mantras vindicated my mass mosquito murders and even made victory that much sweeter....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-5503500552184145265?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/5503500552184145265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=5503500552184145265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5503500552184145265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5503500552184145265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/09/of-midnight-mantras.html' title='Of midnight mantras....'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-177241029368033237</id><published>2007-09-15T02:47:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T02:51:38.564+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guru'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mosquitoesm madness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Enlightenment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='revenge'/><title type='text'>The Way to True Enlightenment</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Episode 2: Mosquito Meditation…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;14 September 2oo7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's currently 2:24 AM.&lt;br /&gt;I am, once again,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;The Midnight Special&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky me...however, through this treacherously traumatizing experience, I have learned to achieve peace through what I call,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MOSQUITO MEDITATION&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Truly, the enlightenment I have experienced must be shared to those seeking pure, blood spilling revenge. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I will be your Guru; I will be your guide. Follow me through this mosquito madness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cover all skin leaving exposed only your arms.&lt;br /&gt;Quiet your mind. Itch your bites. Breathe in, Breathe out…&lt;br /&gt;Great achievements require great sacrifices. Prepare yourself.&lt;br /&gt;Once the mosquito(es) land on your exposed arms, allow him/her/them&lt;br /&gt;To settle down and even begin the blood-sucking process. As their bellies fill,&lt;br /&gt;MAKE NO SUDDEN MOVEMENTS!&lt;br /&gt;Slowly approach this devilish beast (&lt;em&gt;do not let size fool you!&lt;/em&gt;) with your free hand. Think of all the moments of sleep and blood lost over this selfish, soul-less SUCKER and in one graceful, revenge-filled swap,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SEND IT TO APHID HELL!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;…another one bites the dust…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mosquitoes were hurt, and even mercilessly killed during the writing of this article. In fact, I killed two while typing. Their lives will be remembered by their marks left on my arm for a few more days, and then, they will vanish into past for eternity…right where they belong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-177241029368033237?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/177241029368033237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=177241029368033237' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/177241029368033237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/177241029368033237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/09/way-to-true-enlightenment.html' title='The Way to True Enlightenment'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-442913046249076510</id><published>2007-09-15T02:15:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T10:02:48.955+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aphid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Glory'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hell'/><title type='text'>Eat me, please.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Episode 1: His guts, my glory…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Written at 3:45 AM on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;13 September 2oo7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or should I say, "Our glory," since, in a moment of complete desperation, I begged God to help me kill that soul-less, self-actualized mosquito who managed to escape Aphid Hell – reserved for those insects who purposely and painfully haunt humans for no other reason but personal entertainment. Those [ insert adjective here ] mosquitoes eat me alive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;TONIGHT'S MIDNIGHT SPECIAL: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;JANEAN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Don't rush, there's plenty of her to go around. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So far, I've sent two back to Aphid Hell, but it seems like both families came to their funerals and decided to have me for their post-mourning-meal...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Okay, Okay, "YOUR Glory," not mine.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-442913046249076510?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/442913046249076510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=442913046249076510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/442913046249076510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/442913046249076510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/09/eat-me-please.html' title='Eat me, please.....'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-6693817400359354558</id><published>2007-09-13T14:07:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T14:12:48.373+02:00</updated><title type='text'>ENSUING EXCITEMENT:</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;Saturday -- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;first Egyptian Wedding &amp;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;Move into flat w/my roommate, Lianne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;Sunday -- begin teaching English&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Monday -- start my Arabic lessons&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-6693817400359354558?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/6693817400359354558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=6693817400359354558' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/6693817400359354558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/6693817400359354558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/09/upcoming.html' title='ENSUING EXCITEMENT:'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-5845438457540155035</id><published>2007-09-12T10:14:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T10:37:34.607+02:00</updated><title type='text'>last night....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;a mosquito kissed me on the lip…he left a hickey. I don’t like. In fact, I don’t like the multiple hickeys he left on my ankles and wrists. Try it again, I keel you…unless I’m sleeping, then I’m yours for the eating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;but i do love the family i'm staying with -- generosity is an understatement. their house is incredible! i feel like i'm in a castle: an intricately designed iron railing lines the spiraling staircase; immense windows allow inside to flirt with outside; fabulous furniture livens marble and wood floors transforming empty banquet hall sized rooms into comfortable, even homey, communal spaces; and the kitchen.....i need to take some pictures; oh, i'll have to tell you about the water heater....another time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sarah, also 21, is studying to be a translator and speaks Arabic, French, and English. We chit chatted over some grapes andd dates for a few hours discussing life, politics, school, etc., etc. She told me that I have a talent for learning languages and reassured me that i will learn Arabic quickly. i shyly muttered my thanks in Arabic (one of a few words/phrases i now know) accompanied with a slightly embarassed chuckle, but she stopped me by saying, "I’m completely serious."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well, Sarah, I hope to prove you right. But even if you’re wrong, and I hope you’re not, I’m EXTREMELY excited and inspired to learn Arabic along with your rich culture that even if i lack talent, I will work extra, extra hard to do so. You’ll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;then there's the lamp shade next to my bed. last night, i hit my head on this lampshade, which would've been fine, even slightly humorous.......except this lampshade is made out of marble. i don't like.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-5845438457540155035?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/5845438457540155035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=5845438457540155035' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5845438457540155035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/5845438457540155035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/09/last-night.html' title='last night....'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-2925035720669507008</id><published>2007-09-11T03:01:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T03:13:37.091+02:00</updated><title type='text'>leather bag blanket</title><content type='html'>first two flights were freezing cold with no blankets. i clung dearly to my bag, which conveniently served as.....my leather bag blanket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wondering around amsterdam during my ten hour layover was......adventurous. i enjoyed a sun-dried tomato bagel w/my favorite concauction -- tomatoes, basil, FRESHEST mozzerella, and pesto -- at Beans and Bagels and sipped a machiato -- not my favorite, but it's the only thing i vaguely recognized on the menu...and besides, everything always taste better in other countries.....maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then i met Santi...from Spain, living in Montreal, working in Africa. we wondered around talking about randomness -- what two people typically talk about while parusing the streets of amsterdam. he bought me a cappacino (sp?)....also not my favorite, but everything always taste better when....bought by foreign strangers you meet in the central cobblestone square of amsterdam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now i'm here. cairo, egypt. home for the next eleven months.........sweet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-2925035720669507008?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/2925035720669507008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=2925035720669507008' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2925035720669507008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/2925035720669507008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/09/leather-bag-blanket.html' title='leather bag blanket'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-8058201773949146205</id><published>2007-09-06T20:43:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T20:53:46.780+02:00</updated><title type='text'>and....</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;the 24 hour countdown begins................ready or not.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-8058201773949146205?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/8058201773949146205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=8058201773949146205' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8058201773949146205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/8058201773949146205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-must.html' title='and....'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6135890377821994928.post-6851165546155894203</id><published>2007-09-06T03:02:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T03:12:18.823+03:00</updated><title type='text'>and the adventure begins...</title><content type='html'>In less than one week, I will be across the globe........sitting on a toilet, pooping unremittingly. Ok, that's a bit melodramatic...although, inevitable. I'll worry about that crap later....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then, I'm enjoying my last few days on this rock in the middle of the grand Pacific Ocean. I love the overwhelming humility I experience when I stand at the end of the island and realize that.......I'm on an island! That's about to change really fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just about ready to go. Four dinner engagements, two lunch gatherings, one surf session (hopefully), and lots of family, friends, and food.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6135890377821994928-6851165546155894203?l=gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/feeds/6851165546155894203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6135890377821994928&amp;postID=6851165546155894203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/6851165546155894203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6135890377821994928/posts/default/6851165546155894203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://gallivantingtheglobe.blogspot.com/2007/09/and-adventure-begins.html' title='and the adventure begins...'/><author><name>Just a Jabbott or two</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10216295753828491486</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d110/janeandog/S4300301.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
