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“Short scrambles requiring the use of hands” Um, Yikes?
The fact that I continued on after reading the sign made me feel accomplished. My first thought…Who hikes with food and water?
I’m from Los Angeles, where designated hiking trails dictate the time you spend working out. A 6-hour hike? Even my dog wanted to turn around and go home. Apparently the locals call this place “nature’s stairmaster.” Let me tell you now, no stairmaster leaves you as beat up as this mountain left me. I only huffed and puffed my way up for about 45 min before the twitching muscles in my legs said “no more”. Then began the slow, treacherous journey down. To be honest, if I were adequately prepared I would have brought butt pads.
The following day I attempted to seek out a hike that was more about the view than the glute workout. Note to self: When taking the scenic route in another country that uses the metric system, make sure to bring a device with a converter…or Google it. I underestimated what a 12km hike was. 2 ½ hours later, Enzo and I were still wandering around in the forest trying to find our breadcrumbs.
(Don’t judge the photos. The iphone camera didn’t do this place justice. Next time I will bring my “big girl” camera.)
Jacob Barnett is a 12 year old boy with a higher IQ than Einstein. This is nothing short of unbelievable.
Read more at: Daily Mail
Two days later I’m still talking about it…
I would call American Idol my guilty pleasure, but I don’t feel guilty for devoting two or three hours a week to such potent and persuasive talent. In any case, I watch the show religiously (or Tivo it in the unlikely event that I’m not glued to my couch at 8pm when it begins). On Monday night, my dream of meeting the cast came true when we coincidentally attended the same premiere. I stood in the crowd, where I felt safely camouflaged, as my father (who was also my date) laughed and referenced my shy years (age 0-12). I can’t recall which story he told because in all honesty, I wasn’t paying attention. (Sorry dad- but you get it. Was it not five minutes later that Diane Lane sat a few feet away from us in the theater, and I too felt what it was like talking to someone who wasn’t listening?) I waited until we were all done “working” before casually strolling by the group. They were off to one side so it was hard to look inconspicuous with my head cranked to the right. A cluster of things swirled through my mind as I passed them:
Why did I wear such high heels?!
Don’t stare Nikki!
Should I just say hi?
No that could be awkward, because they won’t know what to say to some girl in a fancy dress with a cherry red face who is too excited to speak…
Oh God do I go inside or keep standing here while person after person asks if I need help finding my seat?
Aaaaahhhhhhh! Do Something!
Finally, one of my idol fav’s, Lauren Alaina, pointed to me and said, “Hey that’s the girl from Twilight!” In that moment there was nothing I’d rather be than “the girl from Twilight”. My dad gave me a shove and said, “go baby!” I walked over, not knowing who to greet first. I hugged Lauren Alaina, and told her quietly in her ear that she was my favorite and I wanted her to win. Such praise was immediately followed by series of uncomfortable introductions as I told each and every one they were my favorite and I wanted him or her to win. Finally Paul McDonald, with all 32 teeth sparkling (assuming he still has his wisdoms in) walked my way. I turned red (duh), looked to the ground and told him I thought he should be the next American Idol, and that I needed to walk away because I was overwhelmed and speechless…and…well…I still may have not matured past the age of 12.
Pages I turn between takes
A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah
Just Kids by Patti Smith
I am certainly not the first to embody such enthusiasm over these two very popular books, but nonetheless I thought I’d share.
This month I’ve read a couple of fantastic books! While taking the reader on two completely different journeys, both novels describe very specific periods of time, resulting in tremendous loss. However, the life experience and growth of the storyteller throughout the course of both books left me feeling transformed, and resolved. Both were very enlightening. I felt like I was witnessing the tragedy that Ishmael described, and learning the beauty of forgiveness in the most potent form, as I turned the pages. Patti Smith writes like butter. Each page is so rich and creamy. I don’t know which I enjoyed more, her style of writing or the story itself.
I’m sure there are others out there who could give a more formal review, but I wanted to at least give a book recommendation (or two).
Hiking in the snow?
I spent 7 days packing in as much physical activity as humanly possible. It was just what the doctor ordered. Not luxurious, yet the most extensive vacation of my life, in a place that could take anyone’s breath away. On this trip, I discovered snowshoe hiking (for those of you who grew up with snow, try not to laugh at the naive California raised girl over here). It brought me to my knees, literally. Hiking up the side of a mountain in 5 feet of fresh snow will do that to you. I could barely keep my eyes open while laughing hysterically as my father disappeared into the white powder, after attempting to break his fall by putting his hands out in front of him, “superman style”. His arms were completely swallowed by the four feet of powder that greeted him, leaving only the back of his head and a piece of his body visible. I’m having a true “LOL” moment right now just thinking about it! My dad and I were in a winter wonderland together, braving the altitude, the cold, and marveling at the beauty in front of us. Do you ever get used to looking at something so spectacular? I remember feeling puzzled, in disbelief that nature could create something that was so exquisite, and ornate. While staying away from anything religious, I will say that beauty in such pure form must be intentional…right? I kept thinking that it looked like something out of a movie (that comparison while ironic is also slightly depressing). I decided at that moment that we should start a family tradition. Once a year, no matter where we are scattered throughout the world, my family will come together in this spectacular place, for a little snow shoe hiking.
Flying On a Musical Note
So here’s the story. About five months ago I was surfing the internet, and somehow came across the music video for Hanson’s new song, “Thinking ‘Bout Somethin’”. (Side note: doesn’t it feel wrong to write a title with so many abbreviations?) I was instantly blown away. I must have watched it ten times in a row. It wasn’t just their obvious talent (i.e. their voices/songwriting ability/skills with multiple instruments) that got me, it was the subtle details throughout the video incorporating their sense of humor that I feel makes them such unique artists. Their unwavering devotion to their positive lyrics is a testament to their confidence. It’s refreshing to see young, talented musicians showcasing their passion for their craft in such an openly positive way. Giving off the impression that they don’t need to be tortured souls to make good art is bold in a time in the world when so much is going wrong. That along with the location choice and production design of the video is what really captivated me. Watching a video like that just makes you want to smile! So what did I do next? I wrote them a letter… a fan letter to be exact. It took quite some time to figure out how to write something that was short, concise, flattering without blabbering on, yet mature and respectable. I even called my dad a couple of times to have him proof read it, and then proof read it again. I’ve written many people in the past. When I like a director or a writer I generally write to them, letting them know. The only difference is that usually happens either right after or right before a meeting/audition has been set up. My letter to Hanson was nothing more than a fan letter. I am not a musician, so I couldn’t relate on that level, all I could do was tell them how much I appreciated their music, and hope one day they would read it. I waited and I waited for a reply. In fact I even tried tracking the letter through my agency (we are at the same agency) to see if they had received it. After four months, I got a response! I was over the moon! Not only did they write back to me, I was also invited to a show! Due to my relatively hectic schedule, it was difficult trying to figure out where and how this would happen, but as the saying goes, where there’s a will there’s a way. I spent hours on a genius website called tourtracker.com, to find out where they were playing. Unfortunately, they are only moving further and further away from me. So the story ends with this. On Saturday I am flying all the way across the country to Virginia, to see Hanson play, and I can’t wait!
-Nikki
Fearless and faceless…so who is to blame?
As a general rule, I tend to steer clear of any topic that feels even remotely controversial. Why? Probably to avoid the seemingly inevitable surge of hate in the counter-attacks made on anyone with an opinion. The disturbing and recent articles on bullying that have begun to surface have dredged up a lot of emotion for me. I can’t help but put some of the blame on what some consider respectable sources for news/celebrity information, which for the reason I just stated will remain unnamed. What are we teaching our children, or in my case my ten year old little brother? How is the constant criticism and negativity that surrounds us even considered freedom of speech? Why isn’t there a distinction made between allowing everyone to have an opinion, and useless violence in the form of words that cut as deep as a knife? The question it raises in my mind is: Is this kind of hatred and anger congenital, and we are only now exposed to it because of how accessible our voice has become through the internet?
Although I have been reassured that my teenage years were far from abnormal, I certainly wouldn’t refer to those years as smooth sailing. I even co-wrote a film about my adolescent angst. My youth was filled with unwarranted anger and in-your-face rebellion, but I am forced to think that it manifested itself differently being that it was just a different time back then. Now, we have people who are directly bullying people to their face, and then we have the anonymous Internet hate, which is consequence free. There is no face tied to a screen name, and no responsibility for the words that are written. It’s all too easy, and kids/teens are too comfortable expressing themselves in such a negative way. What happened to the saying, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”? I feel inclined to equate virtual bullying to the all too familiar adrenaline rush one gets from doing something naughty, or the kind of twisted power one feels from condescension. What is missing in this case is someone standing next to that child, as they sit behind their computer pounding all of their feelings into the keys, to say it isn’t ok. Unfortunately the lack of awareness leads to the inability to teach kids to be responsible for the things they say. The damage is done silently. So who is to blame? Maybe instead of pointing the finger at parents, we should redirect our attention to those who are out there making a living off of their hate and judgment-filled articles. Shouldn’t they instead use their voice to inspire kids in a positive way? Maybe they don’t realize that every time a remark is made by them in some un-called-for attack on a celebrity (just to add more views to their blog or website) they teach that kind of behavior to some very impressionable kid that is ready to absorb hate like a wet sponge. Or maybe, I just need to find a way to accept their regurgitated answer that’s plays over and over again on repeat; their staple excuse which magically alleviates the responsibility of millions of children’s futures, so they themselves can sleep at night without the weight of a guilty conscience. We are told time and time again that it is just the world we live in- that the generation below me, nourished by gossip journalism, will somehow grow into healthy well-rounded human beings. For whatever reason, I just can’t endorse that.
-Nikki