see as i saw

This year's Christmas gifts to my parental units were experiential.  At the end of the day, spending time together engaged in a jointly agreeable activity seemed more meaningful than any material item that I could buy them.  And my hypothesis was proven correct; I'm not sure that my parents have ever thanked me so effusively for their gifts.

While mom and I had pre-Christmas day theater date at the Nutcracker, dad and I had a post-Christmas day theater date at Lincoln.  I suppose it was a theater kind of year, although it's safe to say they were vastly different environments.

Despite knowing the plot line and how Lincoln would end, thanks to all of the U.S. history classes of my youth, I found myself quite enmeshed in the story and the details.  Part of my time was spent mulling over whether Abe was an introvert, because that's been a theme piquing my interest during the past few months.  Then, of course, I wondered about the amount of historical accuracy.  Given that it was a Spielberg film, I hoped it was fictionalized only as much as necessary to fill in holes (and obviously there's always a bit of dramatic flair).

After sifting through a few articles where Lincoln/Civil War-era historians weigh in, it seems as though the script stuck pretty close to reality along the way.  And the details that were fabricated or amped up were not of a variety that it made the story misleading.  On top of that, I do believe that Mr. Spielberg made a film that Americans may watch without bemoaning how boring history is.

I often joke that I work in a frat house; it's just the four guys and me.  Conversations range from dumb humor to things that are less than appropriate to baby strollers (they all have young kids).  A debate over the hotness of Christina Hendricks ended with the tables being flipped, the guys demanding my celebrity wishlist.

Although there's no doubt that I frequently swoon over an array of actors, musicians and athletes, I scrambled to come up with a top five.  I couldn't get past Adam Levine in the moment.  I'm sure it's because I was so focused on my work.  So I was required to promise that I'd develop a top ten.  I've run through who's top of mind, but I'm sure there are some obvious ones that I'm forgetting.

This is not about to become an insightful post.  Some days I'm not up for deep-delving thoughts and analysis.  Like today.  Instead I bring you my top ten, as it stands tonight, in no particular order.  Not surprisingly, most of these guys have dark hair.  And I want you to understand how difficult it was to not include 90% of professional male tennis players as a line item in my list.

1. Adam Levine
2. Matt Bomer
3. Andrew Garfield
4. Carter Oosterhouse (if you watch HGTV, you should be familiar)
5. Ben Affleck
6. Andy Roddick
7. Darren Criss
8. Ryan Gosling
9. Ryan Reynolds
10. Milo Ventimiglia (see: Gilmore Girls)

Hmm, now I can't stop myself from thinking of more possibilities, but I'm not willing to alter my top ten.  Some usual suspects that don't make my list?  David Beckham, Brad Pitt (maybe back in the day, not now), Channing Tatum, Johnny Depp, Leonardo DiCaprio.  If you don't have your own top ten, please take a moment to daydream.  And feel free to share.

Do you remember the awkward adolescent years? If you don't recall having awkward years, you're most likely delusional. It's not something I think about often, for good reason, and I doubt that I've thought about those years in quite a while. But the youngest of my cousins are in that awkward stage right now, and seeing them over the past few days brought it all back.

Changing dynamics of friendships. Braces. The opposite sex. Self-consciousness.

Some of the awkward memories merely make me laugh or shake my head. During my middle school years I weighed somewhere between 80-90 pounds and probably measured around 5'3". There wasn't much of me. Yet, I insisted on wearing my shirts in a size large. Other memories are less amusing, but have given me insight into my personal development. I can see aspects of my personality that began taking root back in those seemingly innocent middle school and high school years.

To be completely honest, I've never longed to return to those years of my life. I can see how people might say that things were so much easier back then and they'd gladly go back. The way I remember it, the challenges and emotions of those days felt big when you were in their midst. Today's challenges in the adult world may be of a different nature, but our enhanced (hopefully) personal development is equitable to their heightened gravity.

The day started pleasantly and promising enough.  By 10:00am I had already worked in a three mile walk by the lake, a shower and breakfast.  I made a command decision that today would be a Starbucks coffee day, thanks to a few bucks remaining on my gift card.  After navigating the crowd in my tiny neighborhood coffee joint, my iced coffee and I traveled to a park bench.

It was more than an hour before the sun started to fade out and the dark sky rolled in.  I was making such great progress on The Grapes of Wrath, only five pages left.  Determination to make that book a part of my past instead of my present (it's been a struggle to read a book I'm not enjoying) allowed me to convince myself that I could easily make it home before the rain.  I was partially correct.

Finally finished, I started toward home, a mere three blocks away.  The sky was ominous and intriguing, so I saw no harm in stopping for a photo.  Then the dust started gusting into my eyes, leaves were pouring out of trees onto my head, and I could hardly walk forward or in a straight line.  Garbage bins were crashing and burning onto the path one or two steps behind me.

It became unclear whether I should duck into a doorway or try to make it home.  Part of my mind was flashing through scenes from Twister, anticipating an F5 in the next thirty seconds.  Ultimately, I decided that I'd rather be in my own building should it come to that; there was comfort in the idea of a secure underground level.  As I started crossing the street, my mass of hair whipping in front of my face, there was a sound of metal screeching on concrete.  Sure enough, a large metal sculpture on the sidewalk corner had just tipped into the street as easily as a chess pawn.  If that wind was taking down ten feet of metal, I had no business being outside.  Time to pick up the pace.

I jogged the next block and a half, noting tree branches on cars, people cowering in alleys and doorways, other people jogging toward wherever, metal torn away from telephone posts, dislodged signs.  These winds had been in effect for no more than three minutes and I was clueless about what else was coming.

Once I stepped inside my building, and checked that my car was debris-free, my heart rate slowed, but I noticed that there was a little tremor in my hand.  Checking out the weather radar quelled any worries, seeing that I was on the northernmost edge of a front heading southeast.  Of course, that made me wonder what the center of the storm looked like.  A few highlights, according to the National Weather Service: "damaging wind in excess of 60 mph, large hail, deadly lightning".

If only I could've actually spent today napping on the beach, instead of just employing it as a play on words for this photo.  Although 60 degrees and sunny is nice for the spring time, it just doesn't live up to that amazing summer-like week in March.

My only hesitance about using this photo for today is that the bulldozer says, "GO SOX".  I would like to provide a disclaimer stating that I am not a Sox fan.  But I'm not exactly a Cubs fan either.  It seems that my blood runs thick with Michigan sports teams, even if I'm no longer a resident.  So, just pretend that dozer says, "GO TIGERS" - or, better yet, "GO WINGS".

If you were unlucky enough to live in the Midwest and be employed today, sorry about that.  I spent the day taking a bike ride and reading at the beach.  The sun and the warmth were perfection, but the wind caused some unfortunate side effects on the beach.  I suppose that I at least left more exfoliated than I arrived...still working on getting the sand out of my left eye though.

So far, in 2012, I have worn a swimsuit at least once in each month.  Granted, in January and February I was in Costa Rica.  I think it should be duly noted that in March, though, I was in Chicago.  Hoping to keep that streak alive in April.  Also, I couldn't help but tentatively dip my toes in the water.  It was precisely as cold as you would assume.  I'll wait a little longer before diving in.

Good thing I spent my whole day absorbing the great outdoors, because tomorrow it will be all screens tuned to March Madness...TV and two laptops.  For now, I need to go fine-tune my bracket.

Trips to Michigan seem almost incomplete somehow without a trip to the lake.  I realize that this same lake exists a mere seven minute walk from my apartment in Chicago, but it's not nearly the same.  The water is murkier around here and the beach can easily evoke an overgrown frat party vibe.  The bias may also be heavily influenced by the fact that my childhood summers were largely spent on the shores of Lake Michigan, the shores located in Michigan.  Maybe it's the lighthouses and the sandy bluffs, or the lack of LSD traffic noise and feeling like someone is practically sitting on your towel with you...for some reason the tranquility only washes over me in the western Michigan portion of my favorite Great Lake.

The pier at Grand Haven would likely qualify as an iconic image of my childhood.  I couldn't begin to count the number of summer hours spent on this shore, and a few winter hours for good measure.  It's one of the many facets of my home state that I haven't found a comparable match for in or near Chicago. I'm not sure if it's because they don't exist or I haven't searched hard enough (maybe far enough?).  All I know is that those Pure Michigan tourism commercials narrated by Tim Allen are capable of stopping me in my tracks, inciting a slight sense of melancholy and a strong urge to jump in my car.  As much as I love my international jaunts, my current state of unemployment has me thinking about spending a little quality time with my Michigan this summer.

Accepting that tomorrow is my last full day in Sámara is kind of rough.  If only there was a way to merge my two completely disparate worlds.  It did get me to thinking about some things that haven't been a part of my life for nearly a month, but seemed integral to daily life in Chicago.

- Jeans: This might not sound that strange, but it will be odd to go from a daily outfit consisting of a swimsuit and flimsy cotton cover up to all of that heavy denim.
- Credit card: Costa Rica is pretty heavily cash-based.  I've been living on bills and coins for a month...even for my lodging.  Those were heavy ATM withdrawals.
- Hair dryer/flat iron: I don't miss these, but dry hair is a necessary evil in Chicago winters.
- Full-length mirror: Focus on appearance has been pretty much negligible for the past month.
- iPod & DVR: I was practically able to add TV to that list, but I've watched a few shows before bed in this last place.  Not using my iPod surprised me at first, but the sounds of the waves and the reggae music piping in from the Gusto Beach bar are a perfect background.
- Driving: Maybe not that odd for most Chicagoans, but I usually get behind the wheel at least once in a week.
- Gloomy weather: I've literally seen the sun every day for four weeks.  This is a streak I'd prefer to keep going.
- Meat: Somehow, during my first week here, I accidentally lived as a vegetarian.  After that, I thought I'd challenge myself to keep it going...and I did.  There's a good chance that I'll hunt down a cheeseburger pretty quickly upon returning to the U.S. though.

It has definitely been an interesting change of pace and routine.  There are a few things I won't miss: daily full-body sunscreen application, omnipresent sand (not just at the beach), and bugs everywhere - ants crawling on my towel and my body, bugs in my shower and my bed, on the floors and the walls.  On the other hand, I won't begin to enumerate the things that I will miss.

Besides seeing all of the people that I love, I'm starting to notice other cravings for home.  Many of them are food-related, like french fries, iced mochas, and Subway (for whatever reason).  More than anything, I can't wait to luxuriate in the comfort of my own bed and pillows.  I may not move for an entire day.

Mondays are always a little slow on tourist traffic in Sámara (oddly, I've been here long enough to observe assert that fact).  So, a couple of the guys at Tico's Surf School occupied themselves by standing a ladder against a palm tree and climbing into it.  Sandro manned the machete and started knocking down clusters of pipas (a.k.a. coconuts).  Pablo rounded them up, then they set to work hacking off the tops of the pipas and delivering them to the beach.  Poke a straw in it and you have yourself a gratis, natural-made, tropical drink: coconut water.  It was sweet, but mild.  Mostly, it felt like a fitting addition to my trip, as it comes to a close.  Later, Christian was cracking open a pipa to get the actual edible coconut out and offered me half.  There's no way I have a desire to eat store-bought coconut again.

It's the little things about this odyssey that have become so dear to me and will be missed the most.  *sigh*

As late afternoon drifted toward dusk, I sat on the sand gazing at the ocean.  The waves have been rather large late in the day, thanks to the recent full moon, so the local Tico surfers have been out in full force.  Yesterday and today I found myself passing two plus hours just watching, completely content to stop and stare.  The ambiance of the sunset and the bongos helped, of course.

As an aside from this, I've been thinking about how I need to find something in Chicago that can set my mind in this same tranquil groove.  There will be no beaches, bongos or surfers to be found.  There has to be some place or activity that can help draw me into this happy bubble of peace.  (The answer is not yoga.)  It would be a shame for all of this zen-like time to be reverted in the blink of an eye.

As my remaining time here trickles away, I find myself even more energized to wake up early (as in, sunrise) and start experiencing the day.  Then I also linger a bit later at the end of my beach day, waiting for the sunset to finish its full show.  Today's tide had some intense waves, so the local Ticos were out doing some real surfing (as opposed to us daytime amateurs).  It was an entertaining show for at least two hours.  So, we had a surf show and sunset, plus the bar next to us was putting on a little live entertainment with bongos and an acoustic guitar.  It was so easy to zone out and feel the utmost of tranquility seep into your body.  I've realized that I need to find a place or experience like that in Chicago.

The bench in the picture belongs to one of the four surf schools and a true statement down here.  After three days of getting on a board, I can see why they feel that way.  Clearly I'm about as beginner as they come, but the progress I've made is evident.  It also becomes more fun as you improve, since you don't get tanked my every wave you try to ride.  Too bad there will be no applicable use for these surf skills when I get back.  I wonder if it's like "riding a bike" and I'll be a few steps ahead of the curve when/if I try it again some day?

If you follow the road past the Palí supermarket, you're on your way toward Playa Nosara and also heading out of the area frequented by tourists.  This will lead you to the area where a lot of the local Ticos live.  You will also find this open field, a line of palms, and an amazing sunrise view.

It seems that after three years, my body is pre-tuned to wake up by 6:30am.  While that may have seemed like a chore when the prospect of work and/or cold weather awaited me, it doesn't seem like such a bad idea in this beach paradise.  I enjoy the quiet of the town in the early dawn hours, much like I enjoy the early dusk hours when everyone vacates the beach.  There's an innate sense of peace and tranquility that encapsulates you.

It smells like bonfire and sounds like reggae as I write tonight.  My new (temporary) home has a front porch that allows me to continue relishing the outdoors after dark.  I'm taking in as much of it as I can before returning to the winter season.

I can hardly believe that I have only about a week left of this venture.  It just hit me today that I'm nearing the end.  I'm partially ready; there are times during the day where my body and mind actually feel spurred to action of some sort.  There's also the excitement of reunion with those who know and love me.  On the other hand, I've been here long enough that I'm starting to settle into some real life patterns and bonds.  I can nearly see myself finding a job and sticking around.

Those are the decisions I'll be setting before myself when I head back to the Windy City next Thursday.  At least I know that I'm relaxed and in a positive frame of mind to face those life decisions now.

In the Midwest, I have a daily yearning for sunshine.  Probably because I know that's a stiff order that will never be filled.  Here in Sámara, during high season at least, I almost pray for some clouds.  The ninety degree temps have you feeling grateful for a little shady cover.  Also, the clouds here make the sky more interesting.  Especially when you spend a large portion of your day staring at it.

These parallel clouds intrigued me.  I did an extremely brief Google search in a hunt for their name, but didn't dig past results for "wave clouds".  If you happen to be an expert in this field, meteorology or Googling actually, let me know what they're called.

My brokedown apartment needs to be vacated tomorrow, since someone is ballsy enough to be buying it.  That means I get to move, one more time.  I'm upgrading for my last nine nights.  A private cabina, a bit closer to the beach, with a patio and AC.  The unit itself is smaller, but so light and clean.  I'm looking forward to the peace and absence of fear about what will falter next!

In honor of the Puppy Bowl that I will not be able to watch, I bring you this little dude.  I don't know his name, but he's a regular on the beach where I park myself. Today his tongue paid my face a visit while I was stretched out on my towel, engrossed in the last ten pages of my book.  Never saw it coming.  If he didn't belong to someone, I'd try to bring him home.  Although, I doubt that would go over with customs.

Sadly there was no opportunity in my day for surfing, seeing as my foot was swollen and painful - the the extent that a limp was a bit of a struggle even.  After some icing, motrin, and sitting on my rear end all day, the pain is abating.  I foresee another stab at surfing tomorrow or Tuesday.  I'm off to find the Super Bowl!  It may be en Español and without all of the commercials.  Thankfully, the internet will accrue all of those for me AND then I can skip the pointless ones :)

Last night I experienced my first rain shower in Sámara.  It couldn't have lasted more than fifteen minutes and the intensity was only enough to create a sooting pitter patter on my tile roof.

Then, late this afternoon, we had our first flash shower.  The sun doesn't even disappear for this quick of a rain cloud.  The best part is that smell of summer rain; the fresh cool drops hitting the hot earth.

After the rain, I wandered to the beach for another night of sunset gaping.  There was a haze over the shoreline that made for an interesting perspective as you looked down the beach.

Tomorrow at 11:00am I scheduled a surf lesson.  We'll see if the years of gymnastics in my youth have any bearing on helping me balance upon a surf board while the ocean strives to toss me.

All of my energy was expended on floods and bees, so this picture will have to whet your visual appetite for the night.  Hoping to be back with renewed inspiration tomorrow!