Where, Oh, Where Has My Little Blog Gone?

I'm Baaaaack!

I don't really have any excuses, except that I lost the inspiration to write the past 9 months, curiously coinciding with my soul-sucking choice to cater while auditioning.  

But I've survived.  And found new inspiration.

And in honor of starting anew, I'm developing a bit of a new approach to this blog.  Rather than simply chronicling daily events in the life of Toph (which worked really well whilst being an adventurous ex-pat), I've decided to give it a bit of personal sparkle and share a memory each day, for the next year.  Through to my 29th birthday, starting this Friday.  We'll see how this experiment goes.  I'm not really sure what I've defined for rules, but I want to start telling stories other than the daily bits, and maybe find a way to tie the two together.

So here goes.

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Today was my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary, and I had the pleasure of flying into Colorado this AM to surprise them for a special family dinner.  I can't describe what it's like to see the love and life lived between two 80-somethings that have created a sprawling family over the past 60 years spanning 4 generations.  

Every time my family gets together we relive the memories and stories that make us laugh, and that make our family something special and unique, be it our 6-handed double-deck games of Pinochle, the constant razzing by my Uncle Greg or the yearly ritual of the story of my sister's birth (we'll save that memory for Christmas Eve).  We have something special and unique that stems from the love of two beautiful souls that I have been so blessed to come home to for the past 28 years.

My grandparents met when my Grandpa was staring out the window in Yankton, SD 63 years ago at a young woman mowing the lawn.   He went out and asked her to the movies that night, and the rest is history.  The details of their engagement are best when they tell them, and I finally heard the wedding day story from my grandmother today.  It's truly remarkable history.

The best part?  They prevented their friends from having a chiverie!  And I'm the only person at the table who knew what that was.  Thanks, Oklahoma!

So these two people fell in love, and here I am, blessed with a family that can celebrate this love and the many laughs and sorrows it has wrought.  I'm truly thankful to be part of this crazy clan, and today was a special night I'll never forget.

P.S.  I'm still having plenty of adventures.  Tonight I'm sleeping in the camper outside in the driveway since the house is full of guests, and you better believe I'm thrilled!  ADVENTURES!

Family and Friends

Since the reunion, I went camping in Moab to avoid the rain, and marveled at the red canyon gorge, the desert heat, and the unbelievable night sky.

My family took the most amazing 4.5-mile hike to Morning Glory arch and splashed in the river crossings along the way.

My mom, sis, and I did a drive by of Arches National Park in 75 minutes, keeping us salivating for more.

(for those counting, that means we did 3 National Parks in 2 different states across about 350 miles in 6 days!)

I ate 100,000 calories in a week.  Or at least it feels like I did.

And I had a wonderful last day in Denver.

4 people eating lunch at Chick-fil-a for 8 bucks.  Seriously.  Their coupons are that awesome.

Jordan and I visited my best childhood friend Meghan at her house down in Littleton last night, so we figured we'd beat the traffic by heading to a happy hour down in Littleton, and maybe hit up some of my old stomping grounds along the way.

So we pull up to Dewey's American Grill for happy hour, which we had scoped out online through yelp! and westword, and it looked reasonable.  It even had a second Highlands Ranch location.

Turns out...

a nice young lady was waiting for us as we got out of our car to tell us that Dewey's closed that morning.

WHAT?!  A Tuesday, they just up and closed?  

But, she gave us each a free drink coupon to go next door to Big Papa's BBQ for their happy hour, and we gladly indulged.

12 bucks later, we'd split 5 beers, chips and queso, and hush puppies.  God, I love how cheap the west is.

But the creme de la creme is that when we relayed this story to Meghan, she thought it was crazy because...

Big Papa's is catering her wedding!  What a clever coincidence.

That guerilla marketing really worked out.

It was also amazing to reminisce about our childhoods as Meghan showed us the slideshow for her wedding.  Yes, we played dress-up a lot.  And yes, believe it or not, I have already been a groom.  To her bride.  For Halloween.  When we were 5.  

Let's just say it was classic and people DUMPED their candy bowls into our sacks.  We made out a lot better than when those jerks stole my pillowcase full of candy in the greenbelt behind my house a few years later.  

So we giggled and laughed and walked down memory lane and I can't wait for her wedding.  I can't wait to sing and to celebrate such a special time with one of my favorite women and her amazing family.

And did I mention that I slept in a Harry Potter closet back at the reunion?  Priceless.

Green Table

Don't get me wrong. I'm all for PC.

Not the computers (I'm a Mac convert, 3 years running), but political correctness.

But I'm absolutely appalled at the fact that we can no longer refer to the Native Americans I loved and revered in 3rd grade as their proper Navajo name...

The Anasazi.

It's just so perfect.

Ancestral Puebloans?

CRAP. I'm calling you out on your B.S. Mesa Verde. Seriously.

See, when I was in 3rd grade in Colorado, we learned all about the different tribes of Colorado, including a heavy focus on the Southwest. You East Coasters spent all your years debating Confederates vs. Yanks, but we went back 800 years to the Indians.

And they say there's nothing historical more than 400 years old in the New World.

See we went on a week-long field trip to Crow Canyon, which was pretty much the coolest place ever. One week sleepover trip? Check. Archaelogical digs? Check. Visiting the cliff dwellings at Mesa Verde that you fantasized about in class? Check. Following in your brother's footsteps? Check.

It's ironic. I looked forward to two things from my older brothers before high school, going to Crow Canyon and the mine in Georgetown, and both nearly didn't happen. I remember tears. Distinctly.

But on that field trip, and a second visit to Mesa Verde with my family a few years later while camping in the San Juans, I never got to do something I had dreamed about for years. Going down inside the kiva at Spruce Tree House.

Sure we explored Cliff Palace. And yes we got to see Spruce Tree from afar. But I never got to go inside that darn kiva. And that's all I wanted.

Well, 20 years later, my inner 9-year-old finally checked off his bucket list and I got to explore the inside of a restored kiva. With roof fully intact.

And, well... it would've been better had I been 9. Which is why I'm so glad I was with my 9 year old cousin. It was awesome to see his face and remember why I wanted so badly to be there.  I actually think it was the igloo pool at the onsen that ruined it for me.  Dang it, awesome Japanese baths.

The real highlight of the day was actually visiting the lesser known Balcony House with our incredible guide. Well worth the $3 admission fee.

We actually got to climb 30 foot ladders, go into various rooms and sections of the ruins, and squeeze our way through 18-inch wide tunnels and caves. It was phenomenal. The views were spectacular, and I actually learned quite a bit from our guide.

He capped off the tour with an excellent point that we all are different and learning about each other and we have a respect for how these people lived and how they've been preserved for 800 years. Part of our search for security should be preserving and respecting that and coming together to celebrate our differences.

Thanks Mister Corsica, SD for providing me a lot of hope for the future of Middle America.

And thanks Anasazi, oops I mean ancestral Puebloans, for reminding me that we all are on our search for the Center Place now that we've reached the 4th world through the sipapu.

What a great day.

Oh. And we played kickball in a field full of horse poo.

And we kicked those Bardwell's butts back to SD as revenge for the water fights on the river. 11-4. 

Manic Monday

I should've known it wasn't a coincidence when both Kat and Lauren called today. Especially since we'd already been to the hospital once today.

I don't know details, but I found out before bed tonight that one of my former professor's health has taken a turn for the worse. And I'll just have to wait till morning to find out the details.

A fitting end to a day that started with a shower in the dark (short-circuit from too many appliances at once) followed by the news that my Grandma had fallen in the shower and broken her hip.

It seems whenever my family gets together, somebody ends up getting hurt, and since my cousin is 8 months pregnant and not here, unfortunately someone else ended up in the emergency room.

Don't worry, my Grandma pulled through surgery just fine, but we're all now worried about the length of the rehabilitation and the changes that will mean for her and Grandpa. Not to mention how we're gonna get her back from these great orthopedic surgeons in Durango.

That's right.

I'm at a family reunion an 8-hour drive from Denver in Durango, CO. I've been to the amazing Sand Dunes National Monument outside of Alamosa and gone sledding with my cousin in the hot sun.

I've driven over Wolf Creek Pass and nearly wiped out with all the momentum of a fully packed car.  I've played kickball, frisbee golf, and beer pong, and eaten way too much delicious food and washed it down with way too much delicious beer. I've met my gorgeous new niece, seen distant relatives for the first time in almost ten years, and laughed my way down memory lane. I've met new members of the family, and hugged my favorite old ones.

It really has been a good two days in spite of today's events.

So I'm thankful.

I took some me time on the way home at the end of the night and just marveled at the stars. It's amazing what you can see on a cool, dark, clear, moonless night at 8000 feet. I forgot how stunning the Milky Way was. I feel privileged to be the rare New Yorker who has seen it so clearly so many times.

We watched old videos that my great-uncle Art had of Delmont, SD in 1940. The fashion, the hats, the farms, the stature, and familiar faces much, much younger brought so much joy and reflection to my heart.

What a blessing to look back on people you actually know in black-and-white from 70 years ago, pre-WWII. What will my descendants think in 70 years when they find my old videos on this laptop? Or will they even care?

I hope they do, and I hope they remember their loved ones as fondly as I do. Phillip, the young handsome cousin I never really got to know. Art, in a plaid shirt and wide, short tie with a goofy grin on his face. Long hair too! Auntie Babe, with shoulders and a stature that football players strive to attain, yet with the grace of the rest of her 98 years still ahead.

What a joy to be a part of this family. With tons of prayers for one of its beloved members.

Katy Times

Well, the wedding felt more like a reunion to me, in more ways than one.

It wasn't just seeing a bevy of familiar faces, or driving down streets with towering skyscraper trees, or singing in my old choir, it was being reminded that a piece of my heart will always remember Katy as home, even if I tried to bury those sentiments away for years.

Here are some of the standout moments of the three days.

Stepping off the plane and feeling COLD because it was 85 degrees outside.  Yes, it really was 104 in NYC the day before, and yes I really did reshape a candle in my apartment with my bare hands and no additional heating.

When the woman at the rental counter actually SMILED at me, it made me realize how friendly people are in the South, and how much of a difference a welcoming grin really does make.

When the rental car people gave me a cream Cadillac to drive and I couldn't decide whether that meant I should be pimp-ridin' or 85 and blue-haired.

Further, when I decided I didn't feel safe driving a boat in monsoon rains or parallel parking it, even if it was a luxurious car, I couldn't believe I felt safer in Cobalt, nor that I ended up getting incredible flak from the original rental staff for trading them out.

Driving down 59 at 30 mph in sheets of rain, and later driving under 59 and having to stop in a lake, wondering if my car would drive again after waiting at a red light in 8 inches of water.

Sitting down for probably the one and only time ever at Baker's Street Pub in Rice Village and discovering that Paige Lewis, the girl who had the locker next to me for two years in high school before she left to be a Christian recording artist, was playing that night at the pub.

Finding out Maripat's fiancee's name was Holsten, and calling Michael that name by accident the next night at Ashleigh's rehearsal dinner.

Reminiscing about the Christmas Lizzie put WAY too much Grand Marnier in the cake.

Eating like a fat kid at all my favorite places: Jimmy John's, real Texas Dr. Pepper, H-E-B, Chick-fil-A (the new spicy chicken is D-E-licious, though it really needs lettuce, tomato and mayo too), Best Donuts (mmmmm Kolaches!), and Le Madeleine.  Sadly, I didn't make it to China Inn for the CRISPIES, first because I didn't realize they weren't out of business, but had relocated, and second because I ran out of time.

Driving down the concrete Mississippi River known as I-10.  It actually got scarier.  Because you suddenly have to cross 6 lanes without warning.  It's like Fast and the Furious in 3-D.  And you might actually die.

Being invited to sing with old choir members, and being blown away by how skilled they are.  I'm SO not a choir singer anymore.  That took some muscle memory.

Looking in Ms. Land's eyes and connecting to her as a man, realizing the last time we did that while performing I was merely a boy.

Jumping up and down that I would get to see Kenny at the rehearsal dinner.

Feeling more at home behind the wheel of a car in Katy because I spent most of my driving years there.

Hugging Lauren in disbelief that she has a 5 month old son.

Seeing Andi and Lauren and Megan for the first time in 10 years, much to my surprise!

Reminding myself that Ms. Sharon might be a bigger Broadway fan nerd than I am.  And so happy to see her.

3 words.  No zoning laws.

Noticing how some things (the theater, the dance studio, the trucks) never change, but how much other things (the trees, Katy, people) do.

Being chastised by both Ms. Land and Janet for not asking for help when I needed it.  Lesson learned.

Walking down memory lane in Ms. Land's office, amazed at her archives of some things that should never be revisited.  Hindsight can blind.

Chick-fil-A at noon in the summer.  I forgot.

Seeing housing developments miles past where I used to drive go-carts through the dirt and learned how to drive a truck.

Michael's twin brother's toast at the rehearsal dinner.  Amazing.

Laughing with Janet through H-E-B.  Most fun grocery store visit ever.

The perfect acoustics under the covered walkway at Ashleigh's gorgeous outdoor ceremony.

Sharing the real life stories behind the reunion facade over post-reception drinks.  Wanting only the best for my friends.

Dancing with my friends at the wedding to Footloose.  Erin saying: "You didn't think you'd know many people here, did you?  And now everybody you know is here and wants to see you."

Ashleigh's face as I told her about her Wicked backstage tour wedding gift.  Something so minimal to me, something so monumental to her.

Staying up far too late watching pubescent acne-laden Gleeks-in-training version of ourselves go to TMEA and ACDA.

Not wanting the fun to end, but returning to real life anyway.

It turned out to be an amazing 3 days, of which I'll always be reminded when I think about the people who impacted me most in Texas.  A place I tried so hard to remove myself from, but the roots still hold strong.

The Little Things

I'm so grateful.

It's the little things, isn't it?

The best friend who never forgets to call once a year and ask me how I'm doing.

Forgiving me for foolishly dumping my anger and pain on her when I returned to college that fall.

Actually, that's not that little.

A Mexican restaurant in Queens that has a maple leaf duck confit quesadilla and a garden that tranports you to Brazil.
A little international haven in my backyard.

I'm grateful for the World Cup.  The one in 2002.

The one that had my uncle awake at 4 AM so that he actually answered when I called from a pay phone 8 years ago in a grief-stricken panic because they wouldn't let me on the airplane in Newark.

I never thought a soccer game could save my sanity.

The way he used to scratch Sadie's ears while eating cornflakes, like it was their little secret how much he loved her.

No matter how mean we thought he was for making her sleep outside or stay off the carpet, she really loved him the most.

"Watch where you're GOIN'!"  If you ever visited my house in my childhood, you understand.

That when I walked by all the people waiting hours in 95 degree heat in the middle of the afternoon waiting to get into the Apple store, I could hear him right with me saying, "it's just a phone, people.  just a phone."

I'll never forget that sainthood IS achievable, no matter where life may take me.

The way he'd mutter and curse under his breath when he had a really bad day, even though he knew we could hear him breaking his own rules.

That the most romantic words I can think of are, "You wanna split a beer?"

That he told me I could always come visit but never move back home.  He knew just how to hold the parent-child leash, close enough so I was safe, but just far enough that my fear helped me succeed.

That a man loved his 8-year old son so much, believed in his dreams so much, different as they were, that, for two months, he pulled a rope to hoist him in the air and make him fly.
I flewed, Daddy.  I flewed.

It's the little things.

Freezer in the Garage

So I've a lagged a little bit this past week in keeping this blog up-to-date on my life.

So you're guessing I'm gonna tell you about it, right?

Hold your horses, kiddos!  This one's a spur-of-the-moment food-inspired (what else do I blog about?) obsession!



SAMOAS!!!!!!!

No.  Not the people of the island nation where "Survivor: Heroes vs. Villains" takes place.  I'm talking about GIRL SCOUT COOKIES!

Do you know how long it's been since I've had a delicious caramel coconut chocolate-covered chewy nougat?

I don't even know how long it's been.  It's been that long.

See, Kate just went to switch her laundry at the laundromat, and, attempting to win the race for best roommate ever, bought 2 boxes of Samoas, and a box of Thin Mints (in case those were my favorite) since they just happened to be sitting on the counter for 3 bucks a box at the counter.

SERIOUSLY, NYC?  You can't track down cookies in New York using your web skills or phone books or even stopping by the Girl Scout Association office on 23rd Street, but they just happen to show up at our laundromat the first week of May?!  I'm not complaining, but WHOA!  Seriously, if you go to the website to buy cookies it sends you the contact information for the little girl closest to you selling them.

You'd think GSA would have figured out by now they could just sell them in the grocery store, or make them available through Girl Scouts year-round.  And don't they know that putting little girls' contact info on the internet is a BAD idea?  Hmmmm...

But back to my food obsession.

My mother, being the best mother ever, brought me a box of Thin Mints while I was in Japan.  Seriously, who thinks of that?

Only the kind of mother that would buy something like 50 boxes of Girl Scout cookies each year when we were growing up, and putting them in our freezer in the garage, to make sure our cookie cravings were satisfied all year round.

That's Mother Day award-winning kind of stuff, right there.

Of course, she went above and beyond and would keep like 15 12-packs of pop on a shelf out there (for camping trips and variety, etc.), a dozen loaves of the best raisin bread EVER from South Dakota, and all the pheasants my family would shoot each November in South Dakota.  And when you consider that we were of family of 6 with 3 very hungry growing boys... well, she's a food rock star.

Even better was the half of a cow we kept in the freezer one year.

Seriously.  Kate doesn't believe me, but one year we split a cow with the Boersma's from a butcher in Greeley, and I remember loading up our suburban and going out to cow-town and filling up the backseat with white-butcher-paper-wrapped steaks and ground beef that we had purchased.  We must've eaten that stuff for a whole year.  And it was REALLY good.

I'm not sure where all this nostalgia is coming from, but let's just say the GSA are taking me back to some great memories of my mother and her food-providing skills.

I even remember in high school how liberating and adult-like it felt to purchase my own box of Samoas from one of the girls in English class and then keeping them in my locker.  I would pull one or two out during passing periods and savor the delicacy of my very own Samoa that I never had to share with a brother or sister.

That was heaven.

And now, we have two whole boxes in our freezer to savor at our leisure.

And thank you, Mom, for making sure our sweet-teeth were always satisfied.

Travel Day

Today's travel was a lot like my work commute in Japan... I had to go the long way around.

Basically I wanted to cut from the middle of the island to the east coast, but there's a big mountain range in the way with no public transportation option, so I had to return up the west coast to Taipei at the northern tip and come back down the east coast to Hualien.

But the travel was actually quite pleasant, and the views on the train journey down the east coast were completely worth the extra travel time. Besides, it only took 6 hours, and it worked out that I was able to jump on an earlier train and still have a seaside window seat!

The sun shone beautifully on the lake this morning, which nearly perturbed me after yesterday's fog, but as I was leaving the clouds started to roll in. And anyway, the lake really actually was more mythical and serene with all the cloud cover. I had to take a taxi from the hotel since the buses weren't running yet, but I'm guessing that in reality the front desk girl called her boyfriend and charged me 400 NT for their gain. I can't tell, of course, but I rode in an unmarked blue van...

Whatever the case, he was a safe driver, I got to my destination on time, and I didn't get ripped off. It just seemed suspect.

I can't quite say the same for my bus driver on the way home. He was bit less pleasant and had a couple close calls. Good thing I slept through most of it!

It was a really beautiful, relaxing travel day that I feel I sorely needed. There was no rushing, no urgency to fill time or tick off sights to see. I had a 4 hour window in Taipei, and was able to close it to 1 and half with no problem. I had a delicious lunch and ice cream as a treat. I got here to Hualien with plenty of time to change my hotel reservation, find some dinner, go for a walk, and still come home and hit the hay early.

This town seemed a little suspect, though the people at the information booth were EXTREMELY helpful and friendly. They accomplished so much in such a short amount of time for me, though I'm sure it helped that I knew what questions I needed answered. I might even be able to rent a car tomorrow to head into the gorge and take it at my own pace! Fantasmic!

Even though Hualien isn't my favorite spot on the map, I stumbled down a side street today and happened to walk by a dance studio where two college-age guys were just grooving to some music. I watched them work on some hip-hop stuff for about 5 minutes, and it was one of those moments where I fall in love with art all over again. The fact that these guys are working at a craft in this little east coast town where ruins and stray dogs sit next to gorgeous marble boutique hotels, it re-inspired me. I love what I do, and I love even more that it has enabled me to be experiencing this. Whatever this trip started out as, it has morphed into an adventure of a lifetime for me.

There're so many memories here that will stick with me. Just teeny little moments, some of which I don't understand, moments that have touched my soul and reminded me how blessed and fortunate I am. The stray dog that almost followed me home from the pier last night. The guys working on their waves in the dance studio. The rice paddies next to the high-speed train. The coastline of the Pacific and the clouds descending on Sun Moon Lake. The worshippers at Longshan Temple. The breathtakingly different view of a Taiwanese graveyard (I couldn't get a picture from our reckless bus). Taipei asleep at 11 AM on Sunday morning and the vibrant night markets reaching into the deep hours of the night. The smell of stinky tofu and Chinese 5 spice.

The trip isn't over, far from it, but I've had so many "wow" moments in my head that I hope I remember. Today was a chance to reflect and journey forward, to realize how far I've traveled in a completely alien place, and finally recognize the confused and exacerbated looks people give me when I walk down the street.

I'm blessed. And tomorrow I'm heading into Taroko Gorge, the place that sold me on visiting here in the first place. I can't wait!