#and my dutch friends told me that some of the exercises I shared with them from the app are just flat out wrong so its no wonder

[quandaryitem]

and i think about the unfinished projects and stale dreams

i could get real good at piano i could get real good at guitar i should buy a bass guitar and get good at that theres that article i told someone i would write i should get started on that track for that mixtape what if i release a concept album what if i make a video game what if i learn to draw nude figures what if i get really good at film photography what if i make a movie, like a feature film no that's crazy i could make a short film tho what if i get back into cycling i don't wanna do it right now tho, just feels weird what if i become a randonneur. i bet i wouldn't even have to train much i should make some more furniture what if i get really into sharpening hand planes should i buy a tormex if i got really into any kind of craft i could go to a small town in japan and learn from the master i should learn japanese i should learn german i should learn dutch i should learn spanish i should do knee strength and mobility exercises i should do a pull up i should reduce my life goals into small pieces so that i can feel like i can start i should express my life goals in the most grandiose and expansive terms possible so that i can feel excited about them i should make ceviche i should buy my produce locally i should plank i should grow herbs again i should voice call some people from my middle distance past and see how they are doing i should study the jhanas i should do metta i should do vipassana i should sleep more i should sleep less i should read more of infinite jest i should read more of 2666 i should read the rest of the accursed share i should reread the first part of the accursed share i should floss right now i should pickle vegetables at home i should say something cute to my girlfriend i should just do whatever i feel like doing in the moment i should put on more lip balm i should sell all my possessions i should go on holiday i should look up flights i should plan a journey around the world i should buy a car i should fix up my bike i should get back into running i should get back into badminton i should do physio for my pinky finger i should get back into weightlifting i should make more friends i should hang out with my existing friends i should join some kind of cult or the military or the church and have someone tell me what to do all the time i should learn how to be better at sex i should relax i should focus i should enjoy things as they are i should change things i should move my furniture around i should shave my armpits i should shave my face i should shave my pubes i should buy coconut oil i should buy shea butter i should get back into drinking yerba mate i should stretch i should go to lisbon i should go to berlin i should go to paris i should go to tokyo i should go to singapore i should go to mexico city i should go to istanbul i should go to bangkok i should make more plans i should bail on all of my plans i should just stop trying to do much shit i should stop wasting my free time doing fuck all i should invite my friends round for dinner i should write a book i should read more books i should read more magazines i should go to art galleries i should listen to live music i should watch movies i should watch anime i should stop using my electric toothbrush i should make a robot i should make a lamp i should code something i should make a decentralised social network i should drink more tea i should drink less coffee i should sing more i should throw up i should lie down on the floor i should do more self massage

etc etc

[fireflykind]

2018

Oh Heck I just skimmed over my long ass post about 2017 - my goal was to exercise regularly? Guess whomst is currently going to zumba classes twice a week? This bitch.

Building off of that thought, I think an effort was actually made in that area. Halfway through my last semester, I started going to yoga classes at least once a week. I dont remember if I ever went twice a week or not. And then over the summer I tried to go on long bike rides, and I got back into pokego and using the pedometer app on my phone.

Anyway let’s get back to chronological order.

Final semester of college, commence.

Listen. I don’t know. What the fuck happened during this semester. There was so much emotional turmoil that that’s about the only thing I remember about it. Professor Isabel Cata tortured me and 8 other students in our French capstone class for four long months. First of all, the premise of a good chunk of our classwork was simply ridiculous. Read sections of books, come into class, and summarize it, page by page. No literary discussion allowed. Second of all, we were writing a 50 page autobiography, and once a week in class, Cata would give us prompts and we would write, and then share about them in class. Once she asked us to write an obituary for after we died today, and one for after we died 50 years from now. That was kinda sucky, but then a few weeks later she asked us to write about a time we contemplated suicide. Yike! Is this illegal? This feels illegal. She should be fired holy shit. There’s more I could say about her but from those two examples you can probably get a good feel for how class life was with her. To this day I still feel like I should follow up on the terrible review I left for her, and see if any disciplinary action was taken. My guess is no.

Uhh and then I graduated. And moved back to my parents’ house. And spiraled into a very deep depression. I had applied for a program called TAPIF to move to France and teach English, but in April, they had put me on the wait list. That had been my only plan post-graduation, and since I had to wait until June for the final result, it seemed as though I had nothing left. I didn’t want to go to graduate school. I didn’t know what kinds of jobs I’m even qualified to do. On June 1st, I received my acceptance email. I cried so hard, and my dad came home to discover me crying over it. I hadn’t told my parents I applied for something like this. And now I had to tell my mom, but I was afraid of her reaction. In the end, it was fine.

Next, I played the waiting game. TAPIF starts in October. I tried to apply for summer jobs, but nobody ever responded to my applications. I knit a whole goddamn sweater. In June, I began to practice driving again. This time, I meant it. Even if I only practiced on the weekends when my dad was available, I tried to do at least a little bit of driving every week. I also went to Allendale/West Michigan twice to visit friends, so I got some driving practice in that way, too. Finally, in September, my uncle took me to my driving test and I s2g it took like 15 minutes and I’d passed it. /p>

Two weeks after the driving test, I moved to France and started my job. I remember sitting in the train station after my flight, exhausted. I just wanted to go home. But I didn’t, I got on the train and moved to my new town.

I’ve been teaching at two middle schools and one primary school for three months now. For the most part, I’m really enjoying it. It’s a part time job, so the workload is light. At the beginning, it was rough because everyone was just like “here you go, teach these kids!” like ?? excuse me I don’t know how the fuck that works I need Some guidance. Any guidance at all, really. The French haven’t been super great about giving me vital information to survive and work. Now, though, I’m getting used to it and learning new teaching tactics, and learning from experience. In the classes I teach with other teachers, the students are always pretty great and excited to learn. The classes by myself are a little bit rough but I’m learning how to deal with it.

To finish 2018 I took a trip with my new friend to the Netherlands and Germany, and I spent an incredible amount of money but I think it was worth it. There were ups and downs, but overall we had a good time, and I got to see and experience different parts of Dutch and German cultures. My biggest takeaway from this trip is “God dam I don’t speak German at all.”

As for 2019? I’ll finish out the next few months of this job and then move onto the next thing. I could renew for next year if I want, but I’m gonna start January by looking at my other options. Jobs in the States, jobs in Montreal, and also maybe English teaching jobs in other countries. If all else fails, I’ll look into graduate school, I guess.

Bye, see you next year

[jeremybthompson]

Funnel cake fries fast food

They're deep-fried dough slathered in powdered sugar and then topped with fresh fruit. But have you ever had one made by a small batch cook? I'll bet it tastes better, because these recipes are all about using quality ingredients to make something that is worth savoring! This recipe for Funnel cake fries fast food will be your new go-to dessert. It's just the right size for two people but big enough to last if you want to share with your friends or family. Get ready to get fried!

The idea of making homemade desserts can be daunting at first glance, but this recipe breaks down every step into simple instructions so even novice cooks can do it! All you need is flour, eggs.

How do I make Aldi funnel cake?

I've been to a few fun fairs, but I never thought the funnel cake was that great. But then my sister dragged me to Aldi for groceries and I saw these really low prices on flour. And since we were already there...I decided to try making some at home! It turns out this is one of the best desserts ever! Fiend more information to click here.

So here's how you do it:   1) Buy four cups of flour, two tablespoons of salt, three-fourths cup sugar, and one tablespoon baking powder. 2) Mix all those ingredients together in one bowl - you might need to add more water or milk depending on what consistency you want your dough to be (it should be able to hold its shape). 3) Grab

Is funnel cake made from pancake batter?

A funnel cake is a fried dough pastry made of flour, sugar, baking powder and salt that's deep-fried in oil. A popular misconception is that the batter used to make them resembles pancake batter. However, this couldn't be further from the truth! Funnel cakes are not made with any type of pancake batter; they're just regular old dough.

The origins of funnel cakes date back to 1891 when hungry carnival goers had been clamoring for something sweet and different after hours on the midway. In response to their demands, an unknown vendor came up with the genius idea to fry a piece of dough in hot oil then dust it with powdered sugar or cinnamon before serving it piping hot straight off the griddle.

Can you microwave funnel cake?

The first time I microwaved a funnel cake, I was really excited. The idea of being able to make my favorite carnival food at home seemed like such an innovative and convenient way to enjoy it. However, when the microwave dinged that sweet-smelling popcorn smell filled the kitchen and what came out looked more like a plateful of burnt fried dough than anything else.

It made me think about all the other things people have microwaved in their kitchens before; spaghetti squash, eggs, bacon...and how they've turned out looking remarkably different from what you see on TV! So I did some research and found out that there is no way you can successfully microwave a funnel cake - or any fried food for that matter .

What can you do with leftover funnel cakes?

Funnel cakes are a summertime favorite. You can usually find them at fairs, carnivals and amusement parks. What do you do with the leftovers? The answer is simple; just put it in your pocket or purse for later! They're easy to carry around because they're small and compact. When hunger strikes, simply take one out of your bag or pocket and enjoy it as a snack on the go.

Did you know that funnel cakes were invented in 1894 by Ernest Hamwi? At first he made them in his bakery but eventually started selling them at fairgrounds to make more money.   Funnel cake recipes vary depending on where you live: some use butter, some use oil, others use lard.

How many calories are in a funnel cake?

I'm sure you've been to the fair and seen all those delicious food stands, but have you ever wondered how many calories are in them? I'll tell you! We will be discussing funnel cakes. A typical funnel cake is about 250-300 calories and 5g of fat as well as 27g of carbs. This blog post includes a chart that displays what other foods on the stand would be equivalent to a medium size funnel cake for those who want to keep track of their intake. You can also find out how much exercise it would take to burn off these calories if anything interests you there as well!

This article was written by an anonymous author who wanted to share facts about this popular summertime treat.

Are fried Oreos bad for you?

It's safe to say that America has a love affair with fried foods. Fried cookie dough, fried bacon, fried Oreos...you name it! But what if I told you these foods are actually bad for you? Don't worry - I'm not about to give up all my guilty pleasures. I just want to take the opportunity to show you how much healthier your diet can be by making some simple swaps. You'll still enjoy delicious food while also eating healthy and feeling good about yourself.

Fried Oreos may seem like a guilty pleasure, but are they really bad for you? We're going to break it down and give some pros and cons of eating fried Oreos.

Pros: Fried Oreos taste great, that's the number one pro. Plus you can enjoy them with friends at a party or cookout without feeling too guilty since they are only 140 calories each (most people don't eat just one). Cons: Eating fried food is not good for your heart health because it increases levels of cholesterol in the body. There's also the possibility that frying an already-processed food like an Oreo will heat up those ingredients to dangerous levels; this has been linked to cancer before.

Conclusion:

The best part of making your own funnel cakes is that you can make as many or as few at a time. This recipe will yield about four large (6-inch) funnel cakes, but feel free to double it if you have more than two people wanting some! Homemade doughnuts are another tasty treat for the morning, and we've got recipes on our website for both regular and gluten-free versions. If you're not feeling up to rolling out your own dough in the morning, don't worry! We also carry pre-made mix from local bakeries like Dutch Girl Bakery which would be perfect with fresh fruit topping like strawberries or bananas.

[dragonwarrior24]

Halo: Blue Team Week: day 2

The Scout: Kelly-087 ////////////// Nostalgia & Memories: « This was no homecoming »   ///////////// The Infinity was on its way to its rendezvous point, this location could make or break the battle against Cortana. Kelly-087 was walking down the halls in her tech suit, her armor was being checked, fixed and upgraded. She was planning on getting some training in the War Games simulator, as she walked, she heard laughter coming from one of the bunks. She turns and saw it was some of the members of Fireteam Osiris: Tanaka, Buck and Vale, and Fireteam Crimson, Dylan, Evelyn and Raimundo. They were sitting on the beds as they seem to be sharing stories. "So, there I was, on the Chieftan's back, my knife deep in its neck, Dutch and Mickey manage to tackle it, making the Brute land on top of me. I mean he was crushing my beautiful bod here," Buck described, "and all I could say was 'Get...this...thing...off of me'." this made the Spartans crack up as they visualized the image he explained. "Oh god, that must have been embarrassing," Evelyn said between giggles. "Oh, you guys should have seen Rai with Ana that day they made us do Doubles," Dil began, "The commander assigned them together, and there was a pair from other Fireteam they kept going after them." "Oh lord, not this one," Rai said. "Apparently, the other Fireteam tried to cheat by hacking into the War Games simulation, but it backfired on them in a big way. You know how when you get killed in the game, you respawn in another area?" Dil asked "Yeah, that was weird first time I did the sims," Tanaka voiced. "Well, instead of respawning to another location, they ended up coming back in the same spot where they died. Knowing this Rai and Ana...let's just say..." "We found new and fun ways to dismember our opponents," Rai said with a smile. "You tore their skulls out and beat them to death with them!" Evelyn let out, "I still get nightmares of that." This, of course, made the members of Osiris laugh. "How do you beat someone to death with their own skull?" Vale asked, "That doesn't seem physically possible." "That's exactly what they kept screaming," Dil answered, making everyone laugh again. That's when they heard another set of laughter coming from the doorway. They turn and saw Kelly enter. "Sounds like the IIs missed a few opportunities back in our training days." She said as she walked over. "Hey, Kelly, what's going on?" Vale asked, "What brings you here?" "Yeah, I thought you'd log in some time in the Games" Buck added. "I did for a while, but after a few matches I needed a break." Kelly said, "So what's going on here?" "We were just sharing old war stories," Raimundo said as he leaned back, "passing the time on this ship is usually two ways: the games, and stories." "Oh? Well...would you like to hear some of mine?" Kelly asked with a smirk. "You?" Evelyn asked with a smile, "Sure, the more the merrier," She moves aside to let Kelly have seat. Kelly smirked and took the offer and sat down, "So, what would you like to hear?" "Why don't you start with the first time you were in a training match with the Chief," Tanaka suggested. "Ah yes..." Kelly said, "Of course it really wasn't a match it, was a game. Back then the Spartans were made up of teams of three, and I was saddled with John and another boy, Sam-034." "Sam-034?" Dil asked, "wasn't he the first Spartan to go...Missing In Action?" he said that in a way that let Kelly know he knew that when Spartans go MIA, it usually means they were killed. "...yes...yes he was," Kelly said, she shook away that thought mentally and continued, "Well, it was our first challenge, we were supposed to go through an obstacle course and ring a bell, the teams that were successful got to eat like kings, while the last team went without dinner." "Yikes, talk about a motivator," Buck said. "Well, apparently, the soon-to-be Master Chief, didn't get that ringing the bell was supposed to be a team effort, because when Chief Mendez gave the word, he sprinted like mad, leaving Sam and me in the dust." This made some of the Spartans chuckle, but Evelyn looked surprised, "He actually did that?" she asked. "Remember, this was our first training exercises as Spartans...hell, as actual soldiers. we were still technically kids." Kelly explained, they all remembered that information about the Spartan II requirement, if one could call it that, was told to them when they became Spartans, "He confided to me once that he was so used to playing games by himself, he never thought of playing team games. So, naturally, his drive to always win got him to ring the bell before anyone else." Kelly, then, let out an amused chuckle, "And when Mendez told him that our team couldn't eat....Ha, Boy, did he throw a tantrum. 'But I won! I was the first!'" She said in a little child's voice. This got everyone in the room to laugh, even Evelyn couldn't help it, imagining someone like the Chief throwing a temper tantrum was too much to hold in. "Well, isn't this, a Jolly bunch," a voice said, they turn and saw Fred-104 at the doorway, behind him were the Chief, Linda-058, Locke of Osiris and Ana of Crimson. "Hey Fred," Kelly greeted, "We were just sharing War stories." "What kind of Stories?" John asked. "Oh, just our first time working together as a team," Kelly said as if it were something common "Oh, you mean when we were kids and Chief left you and Sam behind to ring that bell," Linda said, putting the pieces together. "Oh yeah," Fred remember, "We got to eat that turkey dinner and you didn't," He chuckled, remember John's face that day. John just looked away, "That...wasn't my proudest moment." "Huh...didn't think you had anything to be ashamed about," Ana quipped "Don't feel so bad, Chief," Kelly said, "It did teach you a lesson in teamwork." This made John smile, "That it did." "well, what happened the next day?" Evelyn asked, "Were you put on another team?" Kelly looked over, "John? why don't you tell her?" John looked at her, "You seem to be doing a good job, why don't you continue?" he walks over to bunk where Buck was and sat down. "Alright everyone, get comfortable," The rest of the Spartans took a seat on the Floor, Ana just leaned against the wall, looking indifferent, "So, the next day, we were playing the same game, and Chief Mendez assigned us the same teams as yesterday, needless to say, we threatened John that if he didn't help us, he would get it." As Kelly told this story, her mind wandered to that day...and the days back when they were still kids and Sam was still with them. There were times where she thought about escaping the UNSC, to return to her normal life, but it was in the Spartan II program where she made her first real friends...her lifelong friends, and she would continue fighting for them and the memories they shared, long after the war ends.        

[ajapablog]

Corona Chronicles III

Today began with the excitement of establishing rules and schedules. I woke up, took a shower, dressed (it is too tempting to lounge in bed in my nightie all day), made myself a healthy breakfast of turmeric-laced eggs, papaya and yoghurt and decided to start reading on the legal history of empires. At mid day when the sun shone too brightly for me to ignore, I decided I want to go out and get some exercise so I went out and cycled on the 606 (Chicago’s equivalent of New York’s High Line). But the decision to do so messed up my routine. Cycling for about 5 miles made me tired and lethargic and sweaty. I took a shower again, ate some chocolate cookies. I ended up falling asleep on the couch as I was reading. Woke up and ate some amazing challah that my roommate made. My rules are that I cannot sit on the bed before 5 pm so as soon as it hit 5, I sprawled on my bed, disappointed with my own inability to maintain productivity. Then the next 5 hours were spent conversing with people on the phone. Nothing remotely resembled social isolation today. In fact, it was what a regular unproductive day would look like. When we fail at structuring our lives, we fail ourselves in a fundamental way. I remember BP Koirala’s ramblings about not being able to write as much as he could, the constant grumbling, the nagging in his diaries about not hammering the self into a reformed ideal of constant productivity. Anyway, I don’t want to nag about productivity. It is after all, a trope. Tomorrow, I need to do my taxes.

In the News: Chicago restaurants all close, Chicagoans fearful and the CTA continues to be a nightmare My experience on the CTA yesterday does not seem to be unique. The city is fearful and I think it is a good thing. A friend told me off for going on the 606. Maybe it’s ok if we just hold off doing the things we impulsively want to do like go on a joy ride or eat at our favourite restaurants. I mean, we can order in and I suppose we should in order to support local businesses. See:https://patch.com/illinois/chicago/one-last-lunch-walk-loop-covid-19-fear-shuts-down-city

Spain Nationalizes its Hospitals Spain, after Italy is the European country hit hardest by this virus. So this one is major. The question of what this means in the long run is something that we can’t understand now but the fact that Spain took the drastic step of taking hold of the medical infrastructure within its territory suggests that state sovereignty in light of this pandemic will be restructured. We’re already seeing this in the way that countries are closing borders and territorializing sovereignty. I study mobility and the way it structures state power within and outside territorial borders, and I think the moment is productive and generative in thinking about these questions. See: https://www.businessinsider.com/coronavirus-spain-nationalises-private-hospitals-emergency-covid-19-lockdown-2020-3 Dutch Adopt Herd Immunity as a Response:  Britons gave up the idea but the Dutch seem to be on board with the approach of allowing a “herd immunity” to develop. The science behind this is that the more people are exposed to this virus, they will develop an immunological profile that can fend against the virus. However, the WHO and others argue that we don’t know enough about this virus to rely on the theory of herd immunity. Whereas, they argue that we know that individuals can do certain things like wash hands and not touch their faces to avoid contracting it and this can slow down the spread. See: https://www.irishtimes.com/news/world/europe/coronavirus-dutch-adopt-controversial-herd-immunity-strategy-1.4204578

China Send Medical Experts to Spain and Italy: Chinese experts landed on Italian grounds to share know-how about diagnosis and treatment of the damned virus. They came bearing respirators, masks, gloves and the intent to help Italians in these dire times. I think of the old China-Italy exchanges and that game that children play. When I say Marco, you say Polo, Marco-Polo, Maco-Polo. The world should run on call and response and humanity should share what we each know to be able to survive as a species. See:  https://asiatimes.com/2020/03/china-brings-hope-to-italy-while-eu-turns-its-back/

On a related note: Mohamad Safa whose twitter byline says he is a UN representative and Human rights and climate change expert shared a tweet that read:  China sent medical masks to Italy, & wrote on the boxes a quote of a Roman poem: “We are waves from the same sea.”  Japan had donated supplies to China, & wrote on the boxes a quote of a Chinese poem: "We have different mountains & rivers, but we share the same sun, moon, & sky." See: https://twitter.com/mhdksafa/status/1238787478624092160 The President’s Folly The head of a really powerful nation in the world called the Novel Coronavirus causing Covid-19, the Chinese Virus. The rather boorish leader of the first nation of the world forgot that just a few years ago, a flu emerged from his own country and no one called it the first-nation flu. The man under question, is known to spread hate mongering and probably sees this moment to capitalize political gains through racism. Chinese news agency, Xingua with their more sophisticated approach to the world shared a tweet that read: “Racism is not the right tool to cover your own incompetence.” China did give the first nation plenty of time, which it squandered. See https://twitter.com/XHNews/status/1239753294265765888 Zizek Dreams of Wuhan From the two news posts I shared, I know I sound ridiculously sycophantic about China. But the point is, that China is central to world history and we don’t need to be racist about it: the luxury trade, the silk, the mulberry trees, Philippines and Perian, The McCartney Mission, Potosi and the mines, the fall of silver, the end of the old world polycentrism and the rise of mass production and crowd disease. It is possible to tell a history of how China fundamentally altered the equations of world history without calling the virus a Chinese one and without quarantining the Chinese. Zizek, who continues to show sparks of original thinking compels us to think of how the Chinese might be thinking of the double-talk of their leaders and whether behind government quarantines is a knowledge of the mutative nature of this virus. He reminds us that after all, Chinese leaders and businessmen are the same people who have refused to sign climate treaties but have built bunkers for when the world will end of environmental catastrophe. Zizek has a somewhat Soviet conspiratorial approach to things but it is worth thinking about when he says: “some people at least will use their dead time to be released from hectic activity and think about the (non)sense of their predicament.” It is an utterly nihilistic predicament but the revitalization of the mind is truly an experience that “dead time” — moments of withdrawal— can create.  Feeling in the Time of Corona Feelings fluctuate like waves usually. Time and movement allows for us to modulate our emotions. I am worried that the monotony of the days will make emotional expressions more stark. I also worry that monotony may make emotions less consequential as we become attuned to how to deal with them. I don’t know: I have never been in this situation where I am required to structure my time and I am honestly getting bored of the same anxieties. I know my family changed fundamentally after the earthquake. They became possibly less feeling. I think as our interactions become increasingly remote, we might not really feel with the same intensity. We’ll see.  Till Tomorrow <3

[elizacornwall]

Vengeance is an Idiot's Game - Chapter 31 - A Day in Limpany

Read all the published chapters here. -------------------------------------------------- On the next day Sadie was leading her away from camp, down the slope at the south side. Eliza followed her, not quite sure what the woman had in mind when she invited her to a “trip to Limpany” this morning, at the least she didn’t think they’d go on foot. They arrived at a burnt down cluster of houses a short while later and Sadie turned around and smiled, arms outstretched. “Here we are! Dead and quiet as anything. Now how ‘bout them gun lessons.” Eliza’s face lit up as she grasped the plan. She grinned and pulled her revolver from her hip, taking the ammunition Sadie passed her. The woman showed her how to open and load the cylinder, how to click the safety on and off and the general handlings of the weapon, before she let her practise herself and proceeded to collect empty bottles and cans, arranging them on some crates. When she was done, she beckoned Eliza to stand with her in front of the building that once had been the sheriff’s office. “Now try and shoot them bottles over there.” She pointed at the targets that she just positioned and pulled her own gun out. “See, this is how ya hold your gun. Make sure to stand sturdy, else you’ll get knocked off your feet. I hear it wouldn’t be the first time”, she added, winking at her younger friend. Eliza just grumbled, she didn’t appreciate Arthur sharing that tale and wondered how much else he’d told her. But she followed Sadie’s instructions as closely as she could, until the blonde approved of her hold, stance and aim. “There ya go. Now try and hit that big one in front.” She stepped away, sitting down on the porch behind them and leaving Eliza some room to concentrate. She aimed and fired, glass splintered and a bottle burst, but it wasn’t the one Sadie had pointed to. She cursed and cocked the hammer again, getting ready to fire another round.

It turned out Eliza was a pretty good shot, she only needed some guidance on how to hold and aim her weapon properly. Sadie had packed ample ammunition and they were practising for a few hours, Eliza started to thoroughly enjoy this exercise. Every bottle and can she hit flooded her with pride, soon she hit more than she missed and a couple hours later they couldn’t find any more intact bottles and cans, so resorted to putting up pinecones, which were much harder targets. That would only lead to her being more accurate though and Eliza didn’t mind the extra challenge. “You’re gonna be a proper gunslinger if ya keep at it like this woman!” Sadie laughed, clearly enjoying Eliza’s quick progression. The sun stood way past it’s peak now. They had been out for most of the day, but she didn’t fancy going back anytime soon. She felt relaxed and focussed at the same time, a peaceful sensation she hadn’t had in a long time. Finally she had found something that she wasn’t only good at, but would be very useful in this way of life. Different from hunting or acting, this skill could and most likely would save her life in the future. Firing a revolver was much easier than a rifle, the knockback was still harsh but she was strong enough to get it under control and was able to pre-empt it very quickly, calculating it into her aim. She pulled the trigger six times quickly, aiming at the six cones on the crates, sending all but one flying away. Sadie clapped and grinned wide as Eliza turned around to face her. She smiled back, her chest filling with pride. “I never thought I’d be much good at this”, she admitted. “I wasn’t very successful when my uncle tried to teach me when I was a kid!” Sadie chuckled. “Well I ain’t your uncle, seems like all ya needed is the touch of a woman, ey?” She got up and they went to collect more cones, placing them on the crates and scattered some more around the area. The blonde woman loaded her own revolver and gave Eliza a sly smile. “How about a little friendly competition? You take the left, I take the right side. Whoever shoots more with six bullets wins?” Eliza gave a hearty laugh. “Yeah, right! You’ll blow me right out of the water. Not very fair if you ask me!” “Life ain’t fair”, the woman replied, “But it’s all in good sport. If I’d wanted to really challenge ya I’d have said let’s bet on it. Unless… you’re willing to do that?” She gave her an inquiring look, mischief was written all over her pretty face. Eliza laughed again. “Yeah no, no thanks. No way.” They both got in position, reloading their cylinders and aimed. Sadie counted down from three, and they let go their six bullets each, quickly diminishing the numbers of pinecones that throned on their wooden seats. “I win!” The blonde woman exclaimed, Eliza just shook her head but smiled. She had missed one. One. So close. “Well shot”, she complimented her friend, who beamed at her in response. “You’ll get there too, I’ve had years of training. Been shooting guns since before I fell in with them lot, but I ain’t never been such a natural as you!” Eliza wasn’t sure if the woman was telling the truth or only wanted to make her feel better, but it helped either way. “Thanks. I’ll make sure to practise often, now I know I’m not as rubbish at this as I thought I was, I won’t have to come this far out to keep it a secret anymore”, she chuckled. Sadie was wearing an incredulous expression on her face, then quickly shook her head. “Ya know, sometimes I forget you ain’t from here, but then you go and use them ridiculous words”, she cackled. “Rubbish!” Eliza frowned, but couldn’t keep from smiling. She silently promised herself to use more of those ridiculous words, if only to wind up her friend. They were interrupted by the quick approach of hoofbeats, a rider approached from uphill. It was Javier, riding towards them in a quick canter. Eliza shot Sadie a look, who seemed equally confused. The Mexican came to a halt close by. “You gotta get back to camp, Dutch and some others just got into some trouble in Valentine, he says we gotta

move. Hurry!” The women looked at each other for a moment, worried. “We’ll be there as soon as we can”, Sadie replied, upon which the man spun and rode back up the hill where he came from. “Don’t sound too good”, the blonde murmured, concern in her voice. “You think someone got… You know, shot?” Eliza asked, her thoughts immediately drifting to Arthur. Where Dutch caused trouble, Arthur was usually not far. “Didn’t sound like it, but you never know. If Dutch says we gotta move things must be bad”, she replied. “Come on, let’s get goin’. Packing up always takes a while.” By the time they arrived back at camp half the wagons had been packed and loaded, only some bedrolls and shelters were left standing. Someone had stowed all of Eliza’s books and her lantern into the only chest she owned so there wasn’t much else for her to do, she found Pearson and proceeded to help him get all the cans and crates put neatly into his wagon. No one spoke much, Dutch’s tent was closed and the muffled voices of himself, Hosea, Arthur and John could be heard. Strauss had been injured, but it was only a flesh wound and Miss Grimshaw had seen to it without much trouble, he just had to take it easy for a while and could only limp around for now. After Eliza was done helping the cook, she found Tilly and Mary-Beth, sitting together behind their wagons, conversing quietly. “What’s happened?”, she asked her two friends, in the hope they would know more than her. “We ain’t quite sure”, Tilly replied. “Dutch came back from town with John and Strauss and told us to pack up. Sounded like they got into quite some trouble, Arthur was there too but came back only a while after them”, she recounted. Mary-Beth filled in. “He said there was a shootout, and something about Leviticus Cornwall having been there.” She shot Eliza a shy glance, who looked as if someone had slapped her. Her father, here? In Valentine? Did he finally come to his senses and personally wanted to get her back, or was he here by pure chance? She didn’t think he’d know where they were camped up, the papers had said the gang was rumoured to be hiding in Ambarino. He must have been here on some other business venture. She considered for a moment, then replied, choosing to ignore him being here for now. “Strauss seems okay”, she stated, and the girls nodded enthusiastically, relieved she didn’t take the news of her father too badly. “Yeah, Miss Grimshaw patched him up. Seemed to make a lot of noise for no reason, she said. Never liked him much”, Tilly added quickly. “We packed up camp, Karen done your stuff too, we didn’t know where you were.” She looked at her, curious. “Yeah, where were you?” Eliza chuckled in response. “Sadie taught me how to shoot a revolver proper, in that burnt down town not far from here. Turns out I’m alright at it!” She couldn’t help but boast a little. The girls pulled disappointed faces. “What’s the matter?” The two exchanged a quick look. “We thought maybe you’d been off with one of them boys”, Mary-Beth said. She chuckled at that, of course they would think something along those lines. Romantic fantasies was the one thing they always came back to and seemed to have the both of them in a firm grip. “Sorry to disappoint”, she said, still giggling, “But Sadie’s prettier than any of them boys anyway.” The three of them shared another low laugh, when Dutch’s voice was heard, calling for everyone to gather. They followed his orders and waited until the whole camp was stood or sat around his tent, Hosea and Arthur standing a few steps behind him as the leader addressed his crew. “We have been found”, he started. “Lord knows how, but Leviticus Cornwall has found us.” His look lingered on Eliza for a second, who uncomfortably shifted her weight from one foot to another. So he was here for her, or at least because of her. “Charles and Arthur are going to scout out a new place for us to stay tonight, somewhere South from here. Make sure to have everything packed up and ready to go, we’ll be leaving at dawn! Charles, Sadie, I need a word.” He dismissed

the group. Eliza caught Arthur’s glance for a moment, before he followed Dutch back into his tent, joined by Sadie and Charles now. He looked as serious as she’d never seen him before. “That was an awfully short speech, don’t ya think?” Karen had found them, Sean at her side. Her voice was low and even Sean looked less like his carefree self. “Sounds like t’ere was quite some trouble in town, eh”, he replied, equally quiet. “We better be ready tomorrow!” They all agreed and hurried to see if anyone needed help. Eliza felt an uncomfortable knot in her stomach, she couldn’t shake the feeling of terrible dread that loomed over them.

[esprit-de-corps-magazine]

Mona Parsons: From Privilege To Prison: From Nova Scotia to Nazi Europe

(Volume 26-02)

By Andria Hill-Lehr

Nova Scotian Mona Parsons was born into privilege, and married a millionaire – not exactly preparation for the dangers of assisting the Dutch underground in World War Two. Parsons and her Dutch husband, Willem Leonhardt, helped Allied airmen shot down over the Occupied Netherlands to evade Nazi capture. For over a year their efforts went undetected. Then, traitors infiltrated the network. Willem went into hiding. Mona believed she could deflect suspicion by remaining in their home. That choice nearly cost her, her life in 1941, leading to a prison sentence, and ultimately a dramatic escape from Nazi Germany in March 1945.

At first, Mona thought this was another intimidation tactic, but what she heard shook her badly. The two British flyers whom she and Willem had sheltered had been caught in Leiden. Though Richard Pape made a desperate attempt to tear up his diary and his code book and flush them down the toilet, (as he dramatically described in a book he wrote later, scooping the unflushed pieces out of the toilet and eating them as the Gestapo broke down the door) he neglected to exercise the same precaution with one damning piece of evidence against Mona. In Pape’s pocket was Mona’s calling card. On the reverse was the name of Virginia Tufts Pickett, and the address in London where she was living at the time. Mona had asked Pape to contact Virginia, so that she could let Mona’s father in Canada know of her contribution to the war effort. But Mona’s message was never delivered, and the Gestapo acquired the evidence that directly linked the British airmen to Mona.

During her interrogation, Mona also learned that other members of the little network had been captured. Numb with shock, she listened as she heard the names of people she knew read aloud with others she didn’t recognise: Bernard Besselink, a farmer; Jan Agterkamp, a journalist; Frederik Boessenkool, a teacher; Jan Huese, a businessman; Harmen van der Leek, a professor; and Dirk Brouwer. The thought briefly flickered in her mind that the Gestapo were lying, that the people named had not been arrested, but that the Gestapo were hoping that upon hearing their names, she might betray something. But, she realized, they couldn’t have known the name of the British airmen unless they’d captured them.

The cold terror that started in the pit of her stomach and rapidly engulfed her told her that this was not a Gestapo ruse, and that the arrests were all too true. She gave no outward sign of fear, instead feigning boredom at the unfamiliar names and offering incredulous chuckles when told of the alleged involvement of people she knew. She asked for a cigarette in a bid to buy time to calm her nerves. Lighting it without a tremor, she inhaled deeply, and stared steadily at the interrogating officer. Calmly, she asked him why, if he thought he already knew so much, he was persisting in asking her questions for which she had no answer. Her ploy worked. Angered at Mona’s refusal to be intimidated, the officer ended the interview and tersely ordered that she be returned to her cell. A prisoner she might have been, but she was also a strong-willed woman. And her captors had to admit, even if not to her, a degree of grudging respect for her strength.

ESCAPE 1945

So rapid was the Allied advance into the area around Rhede that a notation in the War Diaries indicated that the military were scrambling to produce maps of the battle zones because they changed so quickly, so frequently. Consequently, Mona and Wendelien’s planned escape to Holland was altered by the Allies’ ever-changing battle plans. The Canadian infantry had been busy liberating northeastern Holland in late March and early April, and the Canadian Armoured Division re-entered Germany to take Meppen on April 8. From there, the Armoured Division set a course for Oldenburg. In the meantime, fighting became particularly vicious after the Polish Armoured Division crossed the Küsten Kanal in an area only a few kilometres from Rhede.

On April 14, 1945, the fighting around Rhede moved closer. The bump of artillery, which had been daily background sound for Mona and Wendelien, became the buzz and roar of shells exploding in their midst – “shells were bursting all around, tanks rattled by the front door and machine guns were being fired from the corners of the house.” The Polish offensive and Canadian efforts sent the Nazis into a rear-guard action. Artillery shells began bursting in the fields as farmers, their families and labourers scrambled for cover. The milchräder’s wife grabbed some food and bedding, and herded her children into the basement. Mona favoured taking her chances above ground to being in the close confines of a cramped, dusty cellar, which reminded her too much of prison. She remained on the main floor of the house until the farmer emerged to check on the battle’s progress during a brief lull. He went outside to speak to a German soldier and offer him food. In a flash, an artillery shell passed within a metre of Mona’s head and landed nearby, exploding on impact and sending a plume of earth skyward. Mona flung herself on the floor before she could see what happened to the farmer and the soldier, and decided that the cellar was preferable to the ground floor of the house if the next shell landed on the building. Joining the rest of the family in the cellar, Mona huddled in a corner on a mat while the battle raged over their heads.

When at last the assault stopped three days later, Mona and the farmer’s eldest daughter were sent out to view the damage. The first sight that greeted them was the farmer’s feet sticking out of a ditch. Near him was the soldier, also dead, a sausage still clutched in one hand. The child began to wail and ran back to the house to get her mother. Mona and the farmer’s widow struggled to carry the farmer’s body into the house. They had only just laid the corpse on the floor when Allied soldiers went through the town, telling the occupants they had 40 minutes to clear out of the area and get over the border into Holland – about a five-minute trip away…. 

As Mona travelled through Holland the extent of the devastation of the Dutch countryside began to have an impact. The country was just emerging from the Hongerwinter of 1944-45, precipitated when the Nazis cut off food supplies to the Dutch nation as punishment for its dogged resistance to Nazi occupation. And the battles between advancing Allies and retreating Nazis had laid waste to the countryside. Rotting carcasses of livestock dotted the fields, hulks of military vehicles were strewn along muddy roadsides. In some places, corpses of soldiers and civilians lay amid the rubble and ruins of what once were homes, farms and villages. Those left alive were as thin and ragged as Mona herself. For the first time, Mona felt defeated and wondered if there was any point in returning home. Would her house even be standing? What had been Willem’s fate? How many of her friends would still be in Laren? She stopped to rest near Vlagtwedde, at a farmhouse in the midst of what had obviously been a battle zone, just a few kilometres from the Dutch farmhouse where she had heard stories of heroic Canadians fighting to liberate the country and bring food to a starving nation.

Exhausted, she tried to ask for a drink at the farmhouse. “I tried to remember my Dutch, but it was hopelessly mixed with German. The people looked hostile, until I assured them I was a Canadian married to a Dutchman – then they couldn’t do enough for me.” She managed to communicate that she needed to find Allied troops, and the farmer’s brother, aged 64, proudly produced a bicycle (one of the few not confiscated in the mad rush by the Nazis to leave the area) and offered to take Mona to what he believed were Polish troops.

The first soldier Mona saw was loading a truck. She approached him hopefully, and with as much confidence as she could muster. A once wealthy woman used to dressing in the height of fashion, Mona now carried only 87 pounds on her 5’ 8” frame, was filthy and clad in shabby clothes, with only filthy bandages on her feet, having discarded the wooden clogs because they had chafed her already tortured feet. The soldier responded gruffly when asked if he spoke English, doubtless cautious because of warnings about Wehrwolf [a Nazi initiative to encourage women to befriend Allied soldiers, steal their food and weapons and, if possible, kill them]. But his brusqueness quickly changed to amazement at hearing that she had escaped from a Nazi prison and then walked across Germany. His suspicion was raised again, however, when she claimed to be Canadian. Where in Canada was she from, he wanted to know. When she replied that her home was in a little town in Nova Scotia called Wolfville, an expletive escaped his lips and he nearly dropped the box he was holding. He told her his name was Clarence Leonard of Halifax, and that she had just met up with the North Nova Scotia Highlanders.

Since arriving in Holland, Canadian soldiers had seen the effects of starvation and years of deprivation on the Dutch people. But little did any of them expect to find a Canadian woman in such condition, who had lived the experiences she had. Mona was greeted by fellow Canadians who eagerly shared their rations with her, treating her to white bread with honey and plum jam, and hot tea – her first since the cup she’d been given in the Amstelveense Prison just prior to her transport to Germany in March 1942. During her incarceration in Germany, the only drinks she’d had were water and, occasionally, ersatz coffee. The other gift she remembered for the rest of her life was from a young soldier who had received a care package from home. In it were some Moirs chocolates (in those days manufactured in Bedford, Nova Scotia). He’d savoured each one, making them last as long as possible, but when he found a Canadian woman in their midst – and a Nova Scotian, no less – he gave her the last three precious chocolates to remind her of home. After years of deprivation, they were more precious to her than any jewels or finery she’d possessed. She did not gobble them up, but cradled them in her palm for a while, inhaling the rich, chocolatey-sweet scent. When they began to melt, she put them in her pocket in order to save them and savour them little by little. In an attempt to follow the precautions necessary in a war zone, the soldiers asked her to wait for the arrival of an officer. But when she declined, they did not persist. Their instincts must have convinced them she was telling the truth. After receiving more clean bandages for her feet, she set out again.

[booksbroadwaybbc]

Lets Transform Ourselves Day 20 "Rebirth" (Pics on /r/dailyprogression) via /r/selfimprovement

Lets Transform Ourselves Day 20 "Rebirth" (Pics on /r/dailyprogression)

Background information:

I'm a 20 year old Middle-eastern guy who's very figgity, impulsive and really only thinks about the short term benefits of everything. I used to be addicted to Gaming, but ever since i became 18 years old i decided to leave that part of me behind. I live in a lower-class home, we live off of welfare and I've had the fortune of being born with an above average-IQ which has led to me being able to go to university with a loan.

Last year 2017 December 17th I quit university, broke up with my girlfriend (whom i lived with for 4 months), ditched all my junky friends and moved back to my hometown.

So this is what I'll be doing every single day.

Waking up in the morning at 7:30 AM

Meditate for 10 minutes

Practise a skill/craft in my case Programming for 2 hours (not currently bec of holiday)

Walk for 2 hours per day

Do 60 Pushups + 240 Situps And Plank for 1 minute straight

Read a book (Currently : 4-Hour work week) for 2 Hours

Go cycling for 1 hour (not currently bec of holiday)

Be hygienic

Eat clean and track the calories that i'm taking

Log of 24th of August 2018 - Current time 00:00AM :

Guess who's back, once again sharing his log? Well... it's me. You know. Gara. Yeah Gara is my name, if you didn't knew this before you do know it now great fact right? Alright lets get this going, today was an absolutely amazing day and you'll know once you start reading the rest. I woke up at a very early time in the morning at about 7 AM, I didn't want to be woken up so quickly but it happened so ... Yeah.. I just went back to sleep and woke up again and this time at around 9 AM which was a good time to wake.

Once I got out of my bed I noticed my ankle that i bruised the day before was still hurting and I wasn't able to walk without feeling a bit of pain. I thought it would be wise to not go out today, my mother and siblings were going to the mountains of Tirana to hike. I wasn't feeling it, so I told them i didn't wanna go because of the suffering I experience when walking, and there's obviously the chance that the bruise will get worse or maybe even break my ankle since they'd walk on a mountain. I got shit for not going but in the end it was okay. So today I didn't walk for 2 hours obviously, it would've really killed my body. The bruise is because of all the walking I did previously, i walked 2 hours a day at a minimum for a month straight even before this transformation. I did notice a strong increase in appetite as well to eat proteïn foods and carbs, maybe it's because of my body wanting to heal the bruised ankle? who knows.

At around 12 PM I took a nap till 4 PM, i needed this because i hadn't slept good the past days due to jet lag and just absolutely ridiculous temperatures. This did me really well and my ankle felt less sore. Oh and I drank some Albanian Vodka before going to sleep, it costs 3 euro's for only half a litre which is incredible. In holland it'd cost you at least 10 euro's for the same amount. It also tasted better and didn't burn as much as dutch migrated Vodka. Now this wasn't the wisest decision ever, but i was very bored because I couldn't do anything really i was placed on my bed and that was it.

When I woke up I decided to hit up my customers, I had some orders pending and I made a shit ton of money about 0,5K worth of sales, which is just incredible I still can't believe that you can make so much money just by putting some effort into E-commerce. At some point around diner time I got really hungry, my family was still out in the mountains and I munched some bread with butter and cheese (7 pieces of bread), also drank shit tons of soft-drinks because the water here tastes like sewer water. It's a bad excuse since it's possible to buy good water in the store, i'm just too lazy to get it.

Yesterday I was really upset about not being able to do my routines and just skipping entire parts of what i want to be. Today I made a come back and did most of the things that I was supposed to do. For starters I tried doing push-ups, I did about 15 before my ankle just gave up and started hurting a lot. So push-ups weren't going to be it today, and I started doing my sit-ups which worked perfectly fine since there's no legs or ankle movement incorporated really. I did the 240 sit-ups with a bit of struggle and after that I also did the difficult part of the whole exercise which is : Planking. It's incredible how planking an exercise so simple looking can be so hard to perform. I did the planking for 1 minute and it has gotten a lot easier over the last few days that I've been doing it.

Surprisingly enough I had a lot of orders coming in on my E-commerce website, so I was busy with that after the exercise. I really wanted to walk outside, do my 2 hour walk but I couldn't do that obviously which sort of got me down... I started a meditation session and did that for 10 minutes. I hadn't done it in ages and it felt like a fresh breath of air. Just cleansing the mind and letting my spirit heal, so I can endure more suffering and stress and overcome anxiety. I've finished my basic meditation pack that comes with headspace and the next pack is called "motivation" so it's definitely going to be different. We'll see what it's all about soon enough :)

Now I also wanted to go reading, and this time I actually did it. at 10 PM when my family was already back I told my brother (10 year old) to pack my bags and luggage and i'd let him go on my laptop for 1 hour. Surprise surprise he actually packed it all neatly and clean, then i let him go on the laptop patted his head and went reading. I went to the living room of our appartment and closed the door to be able to completely focus on my book "4-hour workweek" by Tim Ferris. This time around I managed to read from page 80 to 100, which is a lot better than 0 pages. I'm very proud that I managed to do this despite the many distractions that were around me. This time I learnt about how to improve your habits and efficiency + effectivity. Perfection is not about adding stuff to increase somethings value, but it's all about not being able to reduce things because it's so perfect. I learnt that "elimination" is key to making a habit more powerful and effective. Other than that The book is getting really interesting and the stuff that I'm learning is very applicable in real life which is just great.

Now guys I managed to do almost everything that I wanted to do other than the 2 hour walk, which is a tragedy since my ankle is bruised. I will be able to walk properly again soon, so it won't be a big problem. I hope you guys like to read my posts and if you do please leave behind feedback, it's greatly appreciated :) Ciao !

Pictures per usual are on r/dailyprogression

​

We're all going to fuckin' make it, it's not about having money or being strong and muscular. It's about believing in yourself, having the spirit and not giving up when times are tough, fuck mediocrity you're better than that you have always been better than that... All this time... You just couldn't see it.

Thank you for reading.

Submitted August 25, 2018 at 02:01AM by AttackPrince via reddit https://ift.tt/2o9w2vO

[talldarknsexy]

Panamá: Way of the Road

Crossing the border from Costa Rica, the road gradually got much more rural, the terrain got much hillier, and the houses became bamboo and wooden huts. By evening I still hadn't seen much for food and stopped at a tiny tienda. Picked out a glamorous meal of ground sardines and a can of beans. I asked the shop owner if there was a place around here I could camp. "No" he said sharply. "A yard, a field, a church?... Anything in that direction?" I asked. "No" he said. I thanked him for nothing and walked out to my bike. There was about a half a dozen people standing, watching, staring as I saddled up. I also ran into these kind of circumstances alot in Guatemala where there is also a very significant indigenous population. And I have to say it sometimes makes me feel like a very unwanted guest. Right at sunset, out of nowhere, I came across a nicely constructed house and asked to camp in their yard. Soft grass, super nice family- would reccomend. The next day, I had a short ride to a Warmshowers host by the name of Charlie. Charlie turned out to be in his 70's and was in the midst of constructing a hostel, running his fruit tree farms, and rebuilding some old machines. Charlie had lived a pretty colorful life back in the 60's and 70's riding the wave of hallucinogenic drugs all the way from the states through Mexico and Central America. He had stories of meeting Timothy Leary, various musicians, and many others. Assuming a portion of Charlie's stories are true, I was thoroughly impressed and entertained. The next day, I passed by Charlie's farm where he was working. He treated me to even more organic coconuts, pineapple, avocado, and sugar cane juice. Luxuries in America, but all of which he had too much to know what to do with. He'd been declining my offers to help out, but I did let him trade his machete for mine that he'd been eyeing. The road that day took me back over the continental divide and involved about 4k feet of climbing. But, the sugar cane juice in particular was like fucking rocket-fuel. Midday, in a remote area while I was pushing my bike up a particularly steep section, a farmer and I shared a greeting. He then asked me in fairly fluid English if I was "enjoying my exercise." He went on to point out the mountain he climbs every day to tend his crops. I've never met a farmer who knew any semblance of English, especially in remote Panama, so of course I inquired as to how... "Cable Television!" he exclaimed with a big, toothless smile . I reached a hostel called Lost and Found at the top of the divide. It involved another kilometer through a jungle path with plenty of complimentary stone stairs, mosquitos, and cursing. The hostel was definitely worth it though. The view looked out on the Panamanian mountains and it was like looking down on Jurassic Park. I tried to party that night as it was July 4th, but honestly, there were too many Americans at the bar. Or, more specifically, Californians. And maybe I was too sober, or have already spent too long abroad, but the accent and attitude just sounded too abrasive to me. The next day was my first full day off the bike in over a week. That day I went with a German and an Australian to a river canyon with some cliff jumping. And that afternoon I told my bike saddle to get bent and put my ass in a hammock instead. It was a cruise back down to the Pacific coast and I made it to a sleepy little surf town of Las Lajas. The hostel was named Johnny Fiestas. I was a little dismayed to discover there was no Johnny nor a fiesta there at the time. There was the manager, Darrio, and his lady-friend Julia. They were both a lot of fun and so for the first time in my life, I insisted on buying the "whole bar" a round. Dario was an Afro-American/Italian from Luxembourg. He knew about 5 different languages and was as laid back as the Hermes character from Futurama. Julia left that next day and Dario graciously accepted my offer to volunteer there through the weekend as they were booked up. I've found volunteering is pretty typical for backpackers in Latin America. It's usually at least a month commitment working for 4-6 hours a day in exchange for a free stay and 1-3 meals. It sounds great at first, but I usually dismiss the idea as in this part of the world that equates to $2-$4/hr. This was a very small and relaxed spot though, and I spent most of my time swinging in a hammock. If there were guests I'd be behind the bar serving drinks, which I love doing anyways... Hell I did it plenty for free in college. The rest of the day you'd find me strolling the beach, hacking open coconuts, or (something resembling) surfing. It was a fun, refreshing, and intoxicated, vacation within a vacation. I said my goodbyes to all the good folks there and rode out of town. Very refreshed, but not super excited for the next three/four days of highway riding down the mundane Panamerican highway. My bottom bracket ate a big turd on the first day and I knew I'd have to shell out at least a pretty penny in Panama City. I spent the first night camped behind the business of a nice family that invited me to dinner. The second with bomberos, and the third camped at a hostel in a surf town that was housing solely me, two Dutch girls and a pair of rabbis from Australia. One of the younger bomberos at the station was looking for some help with his English homework. I am always very grateful for the patience of Latinos to help me with my Spanish, so of course I jumped at the opportunity. We were making some progress and I looked up how to translate a word to Spanish. He asked about the Google Translate app and I showed him some of the features, including how you can use the phone's camera to visually translate text. He immediately downloaded the app, closed his book, and ecstatically thanked me. I suddenly realized what I'd done, but it was too late. I did plead with him to only use it as a tool and to focus on actually learning the language. He was so incredibly thankful... But the damage was already done. The last day was an exhausting leg slowly entering the huge city of Panama. The last bit of my central America voyage was a very unceremonious struggle over the kilometer long bridge over the Panama canal. Traffic was whizzing by and there was no shoulder. I found a really nice hostel where I hung out for the weekend. It felt crazy to have gone from the indigenous poblados consisting of bamboo jungle huts in the north Carribean to the largest city in central America, abound with towering skycrapers and department stores. I spent a day boxing my bike and another visiting the canal. Leaving central America was fairly unceremonious, but reflecting on it I've got very strong feelings. It was a very diverse region with a lot to offer. Of the places I've traveled, I had some of the best experiences there, along with some of the most trying. Sometimes being there after a while, things become ordinary. I got used to arguing about my change with the 8 year old cashiers in tiendas. Ringing the immense amount of sweat out of my clothes was commonplace as was smearing them with deoderant. One day, climbing in Panama, my shorts got so wet and hot that my camera took 384 pictures of the inside of my pocket and tried making several emergency calls. Details like these I won't easily miss. But, I will miss the fun excursions in the lush jungle of volcanoes and waterfalls, the diversity of food and culture, and the farmer who pops his head out of his crops to give me a big toothless smile and wave. It's been a blast, but keen to see what South America has in store for me.

[cyriloh]

Sandakan, Sabah, Malaysian Borneo

I told myself I will not travel as often so that I could save more money for bigger future plans. However, my birthday should be an exception. A month later after booking a flight from Manila to Kota Kinabalu and Kota Kinabalu to Sandakan, I found myself on an island of rich nature and hospitable people.

Formerly known as Elopura, Sandakan is located on the north-eastern coast of Borneo, which is strategically located on the face of the Sulu Sea. No wonder why many Filipinos are living here – it is a 20-hour ferry ride away from Zamboanga and from Semporna to Bongao in Tawi-Tawi. Call me dumb, but when I imagined Sandakan, being in Borneo, I thought it would more of a jungle place. While in fact, it was more developed and organized than many cities in the Philippines.

Arrival

I arrived at Kota Kinabalu Airport at around 2:00 AM. I stayed at Sakot Backpackers and they gave me a free pick up from the airport. I am not sure if their pickup is really for free, but when I was about to pay, they said: “It’s your birthday, so that’s our gift to you.” It was really nice of them! Imagine, I only stayed there for a night in an air-conditioned room with its own bathroom for approximately P700 and I got a free airport pickup at 2 in the morning! Also, look, they put pictures of me on their Facebook page! Hehe.  

DAY 1

Kota Kinabalu

I slept late but I still tried to wake up as early as I can so I can explore Kota Kinabalu a little bit before my flight to Sandakan.

Yes, I didn’t stay in Kota Kinabalu for at least 24 hours. The main reason for this is that I didn’t know Sandakan was more than 300 kilometers away from Kota Kinabalu when I booked my flight from Manila so I chose a very short date, and I really wanted to see the exotic animals on the island. Then I realized that in order to get to Sandakan, you either have to ride a 7-hour bus (MYR 43 one way) or take a domestic flight. I chose the latter because it was cheap when I booked it on AirAsia a month before (MYR 110 round trip) and it less time-consuming.

Since my flight was still at 2:00 PM, I had the whole morning to walk around, but I thought, I didn’t want to get too tired so I only walked around the area and went to the KK Observatory Tower.

It was kind of hot, but that didn’t stop me from seeing the entire city from above. It was around 9:00 AM that time and there weren’t many people yet, aside from a few locals probably doing some exercise by climbing up and down.

There was a small restaurant serving breakfast and snack on top. I’ve decided to have a burger and it’s definitely one of the best burgers I had, not even kidding! From up there, you will see the entire city. I was hoping to see the Mt. Kinabalu, but it was situated on the other side (of course.)

After getting lost in the city for a couple of hours, I decided it was time for me to go to the airport. From the hotel, the shuttle station was only 2-minute walk away. I love how the place was so accessible.

Sandakan

Like I mentioned, I thought Sandakan would be a jungle! But to my surprise, it is a developed city of smiling locals who are more than willing to direct you where to go. My hostel was literally in front of Harbour Mall; like it is literally facing the main entrance. It was weird to me but it was a bonus at the same time! I had the private room with shared bathroom for MYR 50.00 per night. They have dorm rooms, but the private room was not so expensive so I chose that instead.

Since I arrived in the afternoon, I just decided to explore the city (again.) I walked around – mostly in the mall – to find things that are interesting. But since it is a mall, there was nothing really interesting, aside from the fact that it was 13 storeys and the cinema was on the 11th floor, but in order to get there, you have to take an elevator to the 10th floor and walk in the middle of a parking lot and take an escalator from there.

I went to the cinema to kill the time. I watched Logan, which is a nice movie, but also very, very heartbreaking. In my head, I was like, “Hey, it’s my birthday; I shouldn’t be watching sad movies!” It was still a nice movie, though.

I went back to my room and did a little bit of work. Although it was meant for backpackers, it was not very social. So, instead of hanging out there, I talked to the guy at the reception and asked how to get to King Fung Night Market  -- a market open every Saturday.

It was a bit far from my location, but I still insisted on going since I didn’t want to spend the whole evening inside my windowless cold room. The taxi driver gave me a discount, so instead of paying MYR20.00 per way, I only paid MYR 30.00 for back and forth transport. I hyped up my expectations on the night market while I shouldn’t have. For an apparent reason, I was expecting it to be like Jalan Alor, Bukit Bintang in Kuala Lumpur. It was just a short strip of food and souvenir vendors. They had nice food and interesting things, but for the worth of the taxi I paid for, I didn’t think it was worth it. Possibly if I didn’t eat a lot that day, it could have been more fun.

DAY 2

Labuk Bay

You can either set a private tour or get a ride from a regular shuttle that goes to main attractions in Sandakan including Labuk Bay where you can encounter Proboscis Monkeys and other species like Silver Leaf monkeys, and Hornbill. Of course, I took the regular shuttle bus to get there (duh) which gathers its passenger in front of Hotel Sandakan. It was only a 5-minute walk from my hotel. The girl at the reception provided me with a map where the hotel is located but as someone who sucks at reading maps, I preferred to toss it away and instead asked locals where the place is. One man told me he will tell me where it is. So, I walked with him for a couple of minutes until we reached the place. I can’t believe a complete stranger will take an effort to stop whatever he was doing to help me! I really think Malaysians are so hospitable.

I got to the place and there were a Dutch couple and a Polish girl taking the tour with me. I sat next to the driver and made an instant Malaysian friend. We talked about random things and I learned that he is dating a Filipina girl, possibly why he was so passionate about talking about the Philippines culture and food.

I mentioned that it was my birthday. He got excited and said, “Oh! Then I should give you a present!” When we got to Labuk Bay’s gatehouse, he told me not to get off the car. He asked for my payment and to my surprised, I paid a lot less than I should have! So, I was supposed to pay MYR 60.00, but I ended up paying only MYR 15.00 because he bought me a ticket for locals.

Upon entering the place, we were welcomed by Silver Leaf Monkeys walking on electric lines and leaping from branches to branches. I was so happy because they said that they don’t show up all the time. At first, I saw one… then two… then another came… then there was a troop! They were heading to the feeding platform. I guess they knew it was time to eat so they were rushing there. I followed them and surprisingly, there were even more inside. They are the friendliest monkeys ever!

I got too distracted by the silver monkeys that I forgot that I was there for the Proboscis Monkeys.  When I first saw one, I was so amazed. They were so, uh… unique! Like, who have decided they were monkeys and not aliens??? They were in different sizes and you will know their genders according to their nose. Obviously, males should have a bigger nose and the size of their body is normally twice as big as the females.

They were so intimidating from afar, but then one came closer and I wasn’t sure if I was scared or was simply starstruck. They were making humming sound which was SO weird. Oh my god, I’m literally chuckling while typing this because it was so funny and cute when they do that sound. I don’t think I caught it on video, but it was so funny as they sounded like dogs.

Another intimidating moment during my Proboscis Monkey encounter was when they started running all over the place particularly on the roof where you can hear their heavy footsteps. It was so loud and scary you’d think they’ll fall! They were so majestic I couldn’t believe they were in front of my, literally a few inches away!

The feeding time is 10:00 AM and 3:00 PM but we only stayed there for the first feeding because the couple we were with had to catch a flight.

I loved the experience except the Hornbill didn’t visit that day, but all in all, it was a great experience.

DAY 3

Sepilok Conservation Centre

What I liked about my trip in Sandakan was that you can start the day without rushing. I woke up at 8:00 AM and still had the time to eat breakfast. During the breakfast I met people who were also going to Sepilok Rehabilitation Centre as well, so we went there together.

To get there, we had to go to the Mini Bus Station located just in front of Gentingmas Mall which is also walking distance away from the hotel. Unlike the shuttle I took the day before, this shuttle bus no. 14 caters to local passengers who need to drop themselves on the way to Sepilok Rehabilitation Centre. They were playing 90s music while the bus was running which was really cool.

It was a not-so-dull 40-minute ride. You will know that you are there when you see the big arc. This time, I paid the right entrance fee. There are two points of attraction in Sepilok Rehabilitation Centre – The orangutans and the sun bears. 

Orangutan Encounter

It was 10:00 AM when we arrived, exactly the time for their first feeding. So after leaving my bag in a locker provided for visitors (because orangutans can be curious and grab your stuff from you), I went straight to the feeding area by following the platform.

Then I saw the first orangutan. I cannot believe I am actually watching them eat. It was too surreal. Possibly because I never thought I’d see them in real life.

But of course, behind every beautiful thing in the world is a crowd of camera geared tourists. 

Being 5’3” short, I can’t see much from where I was standing as most of the tourists were tall westerners. I finally gave up tiptoeing to get a glance of these majestic apes, so I approached some local staff if that was it. They said yes. Oh okay. That was it? But then it turned out they meant, that was it for the feeding, but I will see more.

I was ready to go to the Sun Bear Sanctuary when I saw a female orangutan walking on the handrail of the walking platform. I was so stunned! With an O-face, I followed it to see a better look while there were not many people yet.

Her name is Rosa and she just likes chilling. Suddenly, a male orangutan came, too. His name is Churya. But then the staff said not to get too close to him because he’s “naughty.” I thought he meant, naughty as in naughty playful, but then he said he grabs female visitors and open their clothes! There was even a point he chased me, and the local staff yelled: “Run!” It was so funny. He was unsuccessful so he turned to Rosa and tried to get intimate with her.

Sun Bear Sanctuary

After having had enough of the orangutans, I decided it was time to check out the bears. We didn’t get a close encounter with them because apparently, they were supposed to be more vicious. It was fun looking them from afar, though.

There you will learn more things about them as there were guides in the facility telling you their stories of how they got to the sanctuary and what is their species current condition. There was even one that was rescued from a restaurant. They are being hunted by tribesmen for traditional medicine, decorations, as well as consumption.

I took the same bus to get back to Sandakan Main town and my quick birthday adventure ended there.

Things I missed:

Kinabatangan River Tour – Here you will find other exotic animals as you cruise the famous river.

Nightwalk Tour – I think it’s the same as Kinabatangan tour except you’re walking, and it was during the night for you to see nocturnal animals. Here you will see active tarsiers!

Turtle Island – Watch turtles lay eggs. I didn’t go there because it was a private island so it is expensive. 

Breakdown Expenses

Read or download my budget statement here. I spent a little more than this as I didn’t document my other meals and shopping expenses, but this gives you a general idea of what you will be spending on while in Sandakan.

[janiklandre-blog]

Thursday, March 16, 2017

9:40 a.m. very cold   Ken, oh Ken, why did you have to die - once again I'm struggling with this here weird computer - used by the Chinese for their loud movies - I want to get the Asus - it could be ordered on line if we could figure out which model I need - but then it still has to be programmed and I have no one - this get so complicated -

Plaint number one for the day. Plaint number two - roads for cars in perfect condition - I ventured on Third Avenue to 8th Street - good condition - on 8th street an area untouched, later on Second Avenue where the explosion was, half a block untouched, street crossings treacherous - while the cars are happily zooming along

Plaint number three - not a soul to talk to in the morning. I wake up, get up in an empty apartment - and yes, there are lots of peole with house mates they detest who would envy my privacy - still it is a lot more natural to share living space with some one you can talk to. Sometimes talk on my way out to Security (many women stop there at length and pour their hearts out - not very fair to Gloria who has been there since midnight at minimum wage and now may lose the job because management has decided to change agencies - and we have to deal with nothing but new faces) - anyway, Gloria was on her phone. Then I sometimes these days talk a bit to the woman at Moishe's bakery - her family came from the former Yougoslavia - she knows nothing at all about the history of the country, not even where her family came from, she does not talk to her mother, has raised two daughters as a single mother and lives on Lake Hopatcong in New Jersey, a 40 minute drive - and she says, she does not sleep. Sometimes she enjoys me telling her a bit about the country where she was born - but now she has taken to video games.

And this here my house is weird. I think there are ten apartments on my floor - many now occupied by Chinese - one woman doing her exercise walking up and down the hall and telling me long stories in Chinese - I've never been in any one's apartment - have exchanged a few words with a couple of women who I believe are 100 years old - in great shape - zero interest in talking. By now I have talked to half a dozen others - they all hate each other - and I have little to say to them. Yes, this here noisy, overheated apartment has allowed me to stay in Manhattan - now surrounded by people who happily pay $3000 for a strudio - no idea how they all make this kind of money - and so aware of the 3000 people closed waiting list for an apartment in my house - alas, you have to be Chinese to get in - still - most of the half dozen women with whom I exchange a few words call the house a prison and complaints galore - and I must admit, I too, am beginning to feel a yearning for more "normalcy".

There are in New York those normally occuring old age settings - where people moved at a young age into one of the few houses with a decent land lord - best a land lord who also lives in the house - their rents are rent controlled or stabilized - affordable - and they have become friends over the many years, raised kids together - on my block here there is a lovely woman, with a lovely husband - I believe it was her father in law who bought the house when these houses went for the proverbial peanuts, and this here was a high crime area - he was a lawyer and started an organization GOLES Good Old Lower East Side - it still exists - and when he was till alive three generations lived in the house - now his son and daughter in law and a son of their's and his family, lovely young kids - enough room - separate apartments - for everybody and these houses also in their court yards have large gardens - yes, in theory - when Robert an I got married in 1956 we easily could have bought such a house - but instead lived the unwise life that we lived - Robert died, I am still around living in this here government supported housing and our sons fled the city.

The people in Manhattan living in ideal situations are more the exception than the rule. Even on these icy days I find them hovering in corners on the street - countless have fled Manhattan - and of course with Trump who knows what the government will be up to and silently I am counting my days here - already very nostalgic for the city where I've spent close to 60 of my soon 85 years - I do know I would miss the city terribly. Still - I have to be prepared - giving the matter some thought - did not pick up the applications for similar housing in the area where my sons live - tell others "keep dreaming" - while I still am dreaming of conditions of my dreams.

One of my files somewhere in the external drive is called "Laments" - over the years I've gathered a lot of laments. Laments, laments.

In the meantime - yesterday - I did enjoy writing this here blog - appreciated by some, less appreciated by others who tell me they put their laments, plaints, thoughts into private journals that they plan to burn - of course Kafka famously asked for his works to be burned but you better do it yourself, while alive.. I, as one of the great believers in our subconsciousness - thanks to Freud - do see the subconscious around me at work everywhere - and while I am unlikely to see these journals published - I think there is a good chance they will be. I at this point picture most of my still extant writing in a dumpster - with the very unlikely chance of someone climbing into it and finding a treasure trove. So, I am sending this here out happy for the readers it finds - happy for those with the time and inclination for a comment - letting me know they read some of what I wrote - and even found it amusing!

The sun is shining - if only the streets were not so forbidding. Yesterday I ventured out - one of my many medical obligations these days was to get my doctor to certify I am in good health for the upcoming cataract op - she is wonderfully available and I also told her - called and was told come - decided on the bus 103 on block up and stopping outside her office - alas - it rarely comes. I stayed in the street - no way of climbing over the mountain of snow, leaned against a cop car, an SUV - two women cops came - and offered to give me a ride! Does happen more and more often. Came to the doctor's office, no wait, she quickly checked off how healthy I am (other than the dysfunctional gait) - my blood pressure thanks to the pills I believe cost me my teeth fine - and - my heart spiking less than it used to. She had wanted me to see a cardiologist which I never did - some things still seem to repair themselves. We had a nice chat, in 15 minutes I was out, crossed the avenue, a bus came - and in less than an hour I was back to the apartment I am treasuring now in view that I could lose it.

Have a little espresso gizmo for one shot, sweeten it with Irish cream liqueur - eat a couple of cookies and fall fast asleep for an afternoon nap (alas not always) - make a pleasant call, eat some cold cereal with half and half for dinner (not the veggies I do love but only rarely cook and rarely find in the countless restaurants surrounding me - like creamed spinach, that I love - have had a package of chopped spinach in the freezer for a long time - can't quite figure out how to make it tasty) - then my friend came, got her to listen to some of my grievances, not easy, then we watched a Dutch movie Antonia - sweet. The back to the land scenario many of us in the 60's persued - only a few found. I later visited The Farm in Tennessee and have read accounts - of the large numbers who headed there - Stephen W. whom I often mention among them, he took me there in 1988 - a tiny handful have stayed. I also did read tales of horror of farm life in Bavaria - where my father's mother originated - this totally traceless woman today. I know the farm was near Passau, where Hitler was born - but I don't know the name of the village and not the name of a single relative. That farm life was very far from idyllic - my young grandmother headed for Munich, became a waitress and pregnant from my grandfather, the rich dandy from Amsterdam, whose Calvinist mother made him marry her. Also a tale. It's 11. There is the NYT to read. I've cancelled three medical appointments - said I was out of town - tomorrow the optometrist wanted to check if the eye drops I've been clumsily using had any effect - he already wanted me to come last Friday, after he had seen me on Tuesday - and by the way, my doctor yesterday suggested I go for free standard lenses - she says hardly any difference, he only makes a lot more money out of the special ones - in Africa she said they use lenses that cost 3 or 4 dollares - compared to the $1200 for the special ones. Also from Weill Cornell I got a copay bill for $93 - the doctor asserting the neuropathy I already had been told I have - now I wonder how much copay there is on the physiotherapy sessions in unpleasant cramped quarters and I don't do those exercises - hope walking that I enjoy will do some good.

In one phone call a friend told me about her friend who falls each time she goes for physiotherapy - this is in Great Barrington - then doctors call for MRI's, cat scans - of course the nyc doctors pay these sky high rents - my optometrist at 25 Fifth Avenue has two offices across the hall from each other - he must pay a fortune and of course wants to see me as often as he can and charge medicare maximum and me a copay - it all is such a sad racket - but I got to get these cataracts fixed if I want to continue driving, also it will be nice to recognize people in the street again.

Probably I should reschedule with him for next Friday, I don't want to make him angry at me. Tomorrow I hope Molly will come.

I'll venture out at noon today - but more extensive walks risk slipping on ice - and - that can be an unpleasant end - so I may stay at home. There are many things I could do - clean, put some order into much disorder - go through so much of my writing I never read - and on and on - still, I prefer going out.  I can go on the roof for some sun. May do that. Adios, Marianne