Travele Wide

I write to you now from the warm adobe plaza in Taos New Mexico. My things have finally been removed allowed to stretch out across the floor of my new home after being packed up in my focus for the past 17 days. And after 17 days of jumping time zones I feel at home in the high desert town, nestled amongst 12,000 foot mountains and the Rio Grande gorge.

While driving up here, a man pulled up next to me rolled down his window and began waving his arm as if I were a semi and he wanted me to pull on the horn. I give in and roll down my window. “arere yuewju tra?” he says. “WHAT” I shout across the highway. “Are you from Tracy?” I make out. “Yes” I reply, realizing my license plate says Tracy Ford, and I am not about sort out the where I am from question while going 75 across a four lane highway. “I’m from Stockton” the man shouts proudly. Not knowing what else to do, but certainly not willing to pursue this further, I wave him the hang ten sign and let him pass me. I have been battling that same where are you from question for a while now. Both envying and pitying those who simply answer “I’m from here.” I have resigned to say that I am from San Diego. Other answers include “my parents live in the bay area” which usually results in further questioning of where and me resorting to the end of the BART line. Or I might answer “my school is in Albuquerque” which most people then assume UNM and I have to clarify that I go to a small school that is actually a satellite school off a university in Illinois. Again to complicated. I could also say “I was born in New York” but not without explaining subsequent moves to Minnesota, Northern and southern California and most recently New Mexico. But San Diego. People know where San Diego is and I reek of California, so it is usually the most succinct and accepted answer. None the less I am a merry wanderer. In the great words of Bob Marley- Travel Wide, Travel Wide.
Summer Camp.

I made it through six weeks in family practice which felt more like summer camp than work, including a camp name.
"What's your name" a patient asks.
"Elisabeth" I respond.
"Yeah, but whats your second name" the women persists. Alluding to the fact that no one in the south has just a one part name. There I was ‘Miss Elizabeth’ or ElisabethAnne.

The inner banks and Drug reps of North Carolina spoiled me with its sweet tea, southern pulled pork, and red velvet cake. And the outer banks with its warm ocean waves, steamed shrimp and crab legs. And my last week I conceited to try a souhern classic—the Chick’n Chedda’ Biscuit from the chicken kitchen. Think what you may, but take it from the ultimate skeptic; it is the most tantalizing of southern cuisine. I don’t have a picture, but the chicken kitchen is an old wood house with faded blue paint and inside it carries the scent of flakey buttery homemade biscuits and crisp breaded chicken. It has the kind of thick cheddar cheese that melts out onto the wax wrapper and turns it translucent. All I can say is I am glad I did not try one until my last week.

My preceptor Amanda, was an absolute delight, sharp as a tac and pushed me to see every infected ear and strange rash and lawn mower accident that walked through the door. Her husband Collis was my behind the scenes advocate- concerned as to whether or not my apartment had a TV, feeding me homemade Texas Brisket and ensuring that Amanda and I got to go kayaking through the swampy estuaries of the inner banks. And Doc Robert Earl Lane- an old town celebrity who called everyone sweetheart while grabbing you around your waist, he cut things open without letting the numbing medication have its effect quipping “it’s a good thing I’m gentle ain’t it.” And my nice neighbor lady who shared just a little too much and tried to set me up with everyone she new in Edenton, but also made sure my iron and stove were turned off on more than one occasion.
The south was a funny place and I will miss the smell of roasted peanuts, cotton and tobacco fields, double names, and frustratingly poor grammar.

EST

My last day of work was July 30th. And I woke up early Saturday morning, excited it was the long awaited packing day. I am a natural at very few things- but I take pride in my high density packing. I could have been an engineer. Books and cutting boards line the cut out surface of the rear of the trunk. Next the crevices are filled and evened out by socks, t-shirts and jeans. Then a grid of egg crates and canvas bags medially and my bicycle laterally. My car travel bag up front and my duffle bag for my flying ventures tucked behind the front seat. I made “bars” out of whatever I had left of my baking supplies as part of my “no ingredient left behind” policy and placed them between the front seats to power my through my 2,000 mile drive. And I was set—with enough time to catch Amanda and Collis for one last swim and dinner.

Aug 1- I began my venture home, but not without a 4 hour detour up the coast to Washington D.C.—you cant help but feel patriotic as you pull into a city designed by a French man…

Pulled up to Tasnuva’s block and parked between a BMW and a Lexus, as to make my focus, packed with all my material goods seem a little less appealing to those thieves out there. We hopped on space mountain, I mean the DC metro (same thing really) and headed for pancakes, and park shinanigans. We hopped in on a game of football/Frisbee with a couple other guys and a couple of kids- and when inquiring as to where the kids came from one of the guys said I don’t know his mom just kind of dropped them off at the park and said she would come back later. The city is filled with young people from all over—Tasnuva went as far to start using “Hella” as to distinguish herself as a Californian. 1 coffee, 2 refills, a five guys burger, open mike and metro ride, and 6 hours of sleep later it was Monday and I was back in my focus.

Aug 2- So.Country Roads- Blue Ridge Parkway The “smokey” mountains. Smokey meaning there are in a cloud which makes them appear smoky on a good day. On a bad day such as this particular Monday it just means dense fog. Judging by the number of guard rails, and bridges I could make out I am sure the blue ridge parkway is worthy of its status as a national park. On august 2 however I strained my eyes to see 15 feet ahead of me. At one point I got off to ask the nearest way back to the interstate, and behind me pulled off a motorcyclist who waited for me in hopes to continue to follow me through the fog. Believe you me, I audibly praised the 40- shouting “take me home I-40!” as I turned onto the on ramp. I made it to Ashville in time for a tour of the town stoked about its urban active wear and homemade organic food shops, though I left empty handed after taking a look at its price tags- curse you “designer green”! Ever onward- I made it to Nashville that evening. Monday night and all the doors on the mainstreet are open with live music flowing out onto the streets. I spent the night on a couch with a friend of a friend. Her name was Liz and she lived with a girl named “Betty” and upon finding out my name was Elisabeth they asked what my middle name was- Elisabeth Anne- turns out all three of us were Elisabeth Annes (well Elizabeth Anns)! Betty cut my hair. How do you like them apples.

Central Time

Aug 3- Done with the road and plow my way back from Nashville to ABQ. 1,200 miles and 18 hours later I made it. I did gain an hour making it a little less painful—and pure stubborn ambition to be a road warrior.

Mountain Time

Aug 4- Lived the ABQ dream with a jog, errands and dinner in old town-green chilie and sopapillas, and studying late at the UNM library. With the girls house packed full of people and the boys house with 5 empty couches I slept at the boys house that night, not bothering to question why no one else wanted to. Despite the lingering scent “boy”, I slept like a rock.

Aug 5-suffered through the school thing. I tucked my car safely into the Fox’s garage next to the affectionately named “Green Weenie” and disealed powered Jetta, where my car would be safely kept for the next 11 days. Entertainment for that night was playing Swedish Engineer as we attempted to reconstruct my white Ikea desk in its new home- Phoebe’s room.

Central Time

Aug 6- Arrived in Minnesota just before midnight where my bed this time was a couch in my uncle’s basement- never underestimate the comfort of a cool celler in the middle of a humid Minnesota summer.

Aug 7- I completed a triathalon- raced on a mountain bike with wheels half the size of my road bikes and came in 3rd in my age group- unclear as to if this was a dream, too ridiculous to be real. If it werent for my father showing up in the rain looking like a drowned rat from the constant drizzle, taking pictures- I wouldnt believe it. Toured the Mall of America with my brother’s family- one twin asleep and the other being forced into the mini American Girl doll displays, cooing at each new scene.

So it was my grandparents 50th wedding anniversary that night. I was all set and excited to go- I had made it there despite plane delays, my purple dress was hanging up ridding itself of wrinkles- but as I flipped through the name tags in a box on the table I noticed my name tag was not there—grandma grabbed the box “of corse it is” as she begins to look through them all. “well carole, did you even check them” says grandpa. “Check under Q” Melonie quips. Nope not there. Guess I will be babysitting tonight with Nick, the Man-ny tonight.


I still made it onto the boat that night—and I am glad I did. Nice words were said by all. “Love is not gazing longingly into one another’s eyes, but instead looking forward in parallel”


Aug 8- After a delicious brunch (see recipe Appendix for more) we had dinner with Apple valley folks taking some classic shots of Chris, Karl, Ali and I infront of the garage door.

Aug 9- Well he did it. 49 years old and my dad still pulled himself up on his old slalom waterski, gliding out over the wake and shooting up a spray. I think that old ski will break before he does.

Aug 10- Casettas pizza, roof top cocktails, the messiest display of a last super at granny’s with Mady pounding green beans, me tipping my wine, Karl dumping his water…

Pacific coast time

Aug 11- Back on the west dancing in Katie’s car to our personal anthem “California Girls” as we make our way to the park for an epic Volleyball tournament. The more I travel, the more I notice how all cities have very similar qualities- the trendy green in Asheville, the lake side path and old homes of uptown Minneapolis, and the coming together in community spaces like in DC. Back at Katies apartment, Nick whipped up on of his specialities. “Two tortillas is the secret, and you have to get the sauce all the way to the edge of the tortilla” he tells me. Man this guy is an expert. ANNND a sponsored kite boarder- check his blog! (and see appendix for tortilla Pizza recipe)

Aug 12- As it turns out, some of Katies friends were headed to crater lake for a camping trip and could drop me off in Portland. But what I need to emphasize is that they were car camping. Well they were RV camping in a car- meaning they had the amount of stuff you would put in a car packed into Katie’s Matrix. I had to bite my tounge while they were packing- resisting the urge to just do it for them, seeing as I am the packing master- their placement of coolers and tents, soft shell bags was all wrong. Regardless I shared the cupcakes I had purchased that morning with them and we drove along merrily. They dropped me off in Vancouver at Jami’s house. WoWser. Beautiful. We drove down to Portland and she hiked me all around town- powell’s bookstore, 23rd streel, downtown, china town, waterfront, voodoo donut, pearl district. Cocktail hour, the mall for shoes and then brought me to Alex’s house and waited with me. We watched for a bicyclist to ride up, and were faked out about 7 times before he finally road up. Hurray!

Aug 13- With alex off to work at 7 am, I took advantage of the day getting in a good run through the cool air along the river and then played domestic goddess bobbing and darting through town on his very reflective bicycle. Dumped a load of laundry into the machine, covered it with baking soda and hoped for the best. Soon enough I heard the rumbling a beating of a troll- I rushed downstairs to the washer and made my best efforts to constrain the beast. Before adding the next load, Scott, the gental giant came down and thurougly explained the condition of the washer, adjusted its fooding and helped me with the next laundry load. This would be the first of many calm explinations and demonstrations from scott. I rushed off to the grocery super store, and biked back with groceries and organizing supplies for alexes room under each arm. Next off to the Clog master- nice women. good clogs. Grabbed alex's freshly seamed and polished nerd shoes and headed back. Made some cuban Pork sandwhiches with onions and jalopeno peppers and salsa and beet salad in time for alex to come home and devour it. I generally cook by the "I'll have what your having times two rule" which usually works out well. That evening we biked across the steel bridge to whatch a bike race in the pearl disctrict, and no more than 2 minutes upon our arrival should I hear "Liz" and who should it be but Grant J Loomas, an old Hillcrest dinner co-oper. "Of course you are here" I say.

Aug 14- Alex again trotted off to work at seven with what was no doubt an extra spring in his step due to his new clogs. I headed out on a quest to find the most delicious almond croissant- wish I had a recipe for that one, but it is on 5th street at an Italian bakery. I made my way through the classic canvas tent city with trendy green artisans and vender foods. After an epic journey down the bike path I returned starving rescued by a text from grant to get burritos. 31st and Alberta. I ride through blocks of regular houses and out of nowhere comes this trendy little street with loads of d-lish restaurants. When Alex came home that night we made it out to the Columbia Gorge. I was thirsty

Aug 15- Sunday, Alex and I drove out to the coast for the dramatic beaches of the Pacific North West. Car rides, ocean, and naps are good for the soul and soulmates. Dinner with a Minnesota-Nice- Couple.
Mountain Time Back to the future, fly home to ABQ, pick up my car from lidnseys house and drive to taos.
Aug 17- my uhhh first day to work… preceptor called in sick, went mountain biking, and now here. My place is without internet. So I am pulling a Ria- pre writing my emails and blogs and then sending them from the town square. The entire town square is a wireless hotspot. I am a big fan of Taos. A little bigger than silver city, the charm of santa fe without the snobs and plenty of adventure to be had.

TWA

Hey guys, I woke up early the smorning, itching to continue my five week adventure streak- googled TWA aircrash in efforts to find a route up to the crash site, each one warning of how strenuous it was and not to go alone...6:38 am- shouted "HEY CANDICE" across the hall to my roomate "want to go find the crash site?"she suffles around in her bed and asks "do we have to leave now, or can we go in like ten minutes" by 7:30 we are on the trail- no map, a broken compass, and no clue. A couple of scribbled notes, a few landmarks, 1 PB&J and 2L of H2O each. A quick two mile "warm up" we find the right trail. See the thing about the crash site is that there is no formal trail to it, you can either climb up to it from Baca Domingo trail. or scale down to it from the La Luz. Anyway we made our way up 2,000ft and 3.5 miles of a very convoluted (tortuous if you will) and overgrown trail to the site. Worth every penny- or calorie of energy spent. The entire plane is still there, in peices spanning from the initial memorial sign, two miles deep into the canyon entire wings ripped off by the canyon walls, the propeller blades, and a bunch of other pieces that I wish anyone of you had been there to identify. Anyway this is one of the neatest and most rewarding hikes I have ever done, partially because we had seen just glimmers of it from above when doing the La Luz trail to sandia peak, partially because it brought us deep into the thicketed woods that I didnt think exhisted in ABQ, forging a trail with someone as open to adventure and make mistakes as me, and topping it off with a stop on the way home to CESARS greek and mexican. Candice got a gyro and i got tacos... everybody wins. Put the wrong memory card in so only had 7 pictures... but I will be back, next time with a little more forethought...dad- i definately should have brought the binoculars! http://picasaweb.google.com/easchulze/TWA?feat=directlink Here is the story of the crashhttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/TWA_Flight_260 Happy Trails,Elisabeth

TWA

Two intrepid travelers set out on a trail this morning, they didnt know which one. No map, no knifes, no first aid kit. One PB&J, and 2L water.

6:21 am- after five weeks of pioneering into the greater outdoors fighting our way up peaks, taking granny gear all the way to santa fe and racing through the foothills, I woke up itching for another adventure. I googled the TWA crash site, somewhere between the Baca Domingo trail and La Luz.

6:36 "Hey Candice... want to go find the TWA crash site?"

Candice rummages around in bed "how about in like 10 minutes?"

An hour later we are out at the trail head, thats right an hour from the sheets to the trail.

With a couple of hand written directions and landmarks we embark. A quick mile and a half warm up out on 342, up the Pinos, back 341 over to 230, up the creek, up a 20 foot bank, through a primative trail, back down, over to find two carines leading off to the crash site. 2 miles horizontal, 1,400 feet verticle later we were at the crash site. And let me tell you that was one long convoulted overgrown SOB. chu-know what I'm say'n?

Anyway, totally worth it.

Presenting

How many miles must we march...

Summer time in the city!

This has been one of the best summer's so far.  Summer is this extrenuous force that can not be stopped, hot summer days, the sun burning well into the evening hours and keeping the night warm. And here more than anywhere the energy hangs in the air and then explodes into an evening storm, lighting up the skys.

Today we walked out of class around 2, big dark clouds pulling a curtain over the desert sun. It felt like 8 at night. I spent the afternoon at UNM against the large glass window, the storm erupting infront of me. Went home a couple hours later, the clouds had cleared, and I went for a walk through the air cooled by a summer storm.

Anyway, this summer has been great-- I was nervous about being away from the ocean- but New Mexico has presented more opportunities and summer blessings than I had expected. The last five weeks can be accounted for by two weeks of tennis lessons, 35 batting cage tokens, 3 peaks, 100 miles in the saddle, 50 kilometers of pavement, carrot cakesm, a season of Scrubs, pediatrics and clinic visits. I'm going to have a hard time leaving this place-- its the first place that really feels like mine, and when I leave it I have no one here to come back to. NY, MN, and Norcal are all where my family moved me  I did this one on my own and I feel like it is a really good fit.

I am stoked to be writing the survival guide for next years incoming class- really- I will post it when I get through...

Four weeks of hiking every weekend with the APC. alpine club. antigen presenting cells

El Mapias

La Luz

Mt Taylor

Embudito

So last friday I road my bike up to santa fe with Colleen and Craig, discovered the most delicious chocolate chip cookies in a town called madrid.

Sunday was the big 10k through the sandia foothills

Our downstairs neighbor is moving out, came to our apartment with a moving box of beer and a giant lion pinata. How can you turn that down??

Neil Bogi.

Ok so We have lost three people from our 30 people program, and we are all a little on edge about who might be the next to go- threatening that we are NOT allowed to loose anyone else. Over the most bang for your buck beers at kelly's Skyler and I both came to the conclusion that it would surely be one of us- the next to walk the plank that is.

"Skyler... Thats it, I am definately the next to get booted out of the class..." I texted today after finally looking up my login- user name 'neilbogi' who even is this neil bogi? he's the one that did so shitty, clearly.

I got the lowest grade in the class on the PACKRAT. Do you even know what is like to get average?? now take that, dwindle down the 50 percent that are below you and you will find yourself amongst the ranks of the few, the shameful, the dissappointments of our day, with me.

"O thank god" texted skyler

Ok Right. lets get some perspective-put on those rose colored glasses for a minute- nay those polarized glasses, because as candice and I talked about, they make the colors around you so vibrant, and make the dull and ordinary into something extrodinary. So this "PACKRAT" was the prep test for the PANCE that we will take at the end of our studies, following graduation, and it does not count for anything right now, mearly a measure of our capabilitys, or lack there of.

Whatever, just funny that it happened on the same day Alex called to tell me he got honors in surgery. eh, what did I expect.

Here is how I have decided to see it- it is like running a 17 minute mile (or in the case of my score an hour mile) in PE at the beginning of the school year- that way when you have to do it again in 6 months you can cut your time in half (or in my case double your score) Basically I am shooting for black horse, most improved, break out artist of the year.

Fact of the matter is- I am terrrrrible at medicine. But I am terrible at everything to begin with, we have talked about this. It just sucks, because its not like I am not trying, I study. a lot. actually. I am thinking of cutting back. trimming the fat one might say.

Confriends

6 days 7 nights. in san diego and I got nothing to show for myself. No pictures that is. I have plenty of swag, sand and salt tucked into the seams of my bathing suit, clothing stained with the dirty basement water of a santa monica water heater, a bag full of henrey's trail mix, and the figurative puckered rasberry skin, and tear swollen eyes from once again ripping off a metaphorical band-aid.

The ocean was beautiful "no surf- really- you can sea geraboldi and shit" I bailed on alex leaving him a tablecloth and blanket deep to go swim a mile out in the ocean. The invigorating hug of the brisk pacific in late May. I may be a bit biased by flying from the brown dry desert to San Diego is like descending into paradise. Alex road up in his 94 navy camery with a huge bunch of wildflowers for me (its my story I will "remember" it how I want) And we headed back to la jolla just as the may gray marine layer was breaking up.
That night we met up with the ria-mister and Casey for a ball game at PETCO. Swooped a metered parking spot- and a free ticket that had fallen on the ground- which the kind and rightous man in front of us insisted that it be handed over to the guard- which then promptly "went to go find the guy" Ass whole. what? Fun game, Casey got suuuuch a good deal on a bear and a whole bunch of simple carbs for ten dolla!!

Alex took off early the next morning for work, leaving me with his car... "freedom" Met up with oscar and madison and abel and crew for an ocean swim, hang out and fro yo. The beach is a great freaken place- went to the new fro yo place afterwards, hahha "uhhh oscar, I didnt bring my wallet..." 5 dollar frozen yogurt cup already filled....whuups.

That night I headed out to meet Kelly and Nicole at a peruvian restaurtant in north park. Such a nice evening, debriefing with the girls followed by.... another fro yo. sucka
I returned home to alex and his mail order bride aka his new I touch, I think he might love it more than me.... it even sends him text messages, thats weird.

Saturday was big conference day, alex was kind enough to drop me off in the morning, and went to a "soviet" playground, and signed me up for the lobbiest group. Met up with kelly and took the place by storm- sooo many PA's all in one place- amazing! 6 lectures and lunch with two ER PA's from Kentucky later, I was back in Alex's car figuring out dinner plans- some stirfry and mother quick's maranaide and 2 things of brown rice later we had ourselves a dinner party. God what would I do without Ria? She just gets shit and doesnt back down from it in the face of debby doubter, and always gots your back you know? sometimes I worry about how my relationship will survive without her- she is like a difusser. Anyway. Peanut sauced it up, some brownies and a night giggling with the girls.

The next morning I dragged alex out into the surfless ocean and then we headed up to the orange county for some pizza with Katie. I love her. It was so nice to see her. And then continued our way up to los angeles. I love doing that drive with Alex, its so nice to just be on the road with him. We road our bikes down to the pier and walked out through the venice beach shit show-always entertaining. Alex and I picked up two tri tip and two artichokes for dinner that night, which would be interupted by an evening bailing out the basement, what else would you expect.
It was a fun night, and I slept very well :)

The next morning we headed back so I could swing by the conference and then over to Nicole and Talenes to make "cookies" and by that I mean healthy delicious fiber bars :) I returned to alex's for a memorial day BBQ with hot dogs and costco beer, and way undercooked brownies. We took a walk after dinner out to the sand cliffs over wind-n-sea, and watched the waves crash under us. I love that ocean. And that boy.

Alex had work again on tuesday, after dropping him off at some nuclear time in the morning I met up with madison and ria at Harry's for our 6 am diner breakfast, everything I had remembered. Ria and madison just as quarky and fun as ever. a couple hours later I packed it up and headed downtown to check out the exhibits and swoop some free swag, chatted with the surgery and pediatric PAs. Back at alex's I could barely keep my eyes open and slept away my ocean time damn it. Dove in the small waves at scripps for a couple minutes before heading up to pick up alex, who didnt get out until 5:20- could have stayed in the ocean!! anyways, had enough time to swing back by the house and then off to the airport.

Empty flight home, got to debrief with andrea and then made my best effort to study- too exhausted and heart broken to focus.

the last of the week flew by between class from 8-7 and running around the neighborhood with colleen and lauren snapping pictures of public health and interviewing the crazy locals.

Friday morning headed out to the Roadrunner food for the homeless center- sorted and packed up food all morning with the crew- I am so impressed with the facility and the workers there- I cant wait to go back. went out that night to kelly's- got all dolled up and everything, was a really nice night, skyler, candice and I were the last ones there at midnight. On our way home, candice three imperials deep ate pavement on her bike as her front tire went completely flat, we walked the rest of the way, candice cursing at her self for being that drunk biking girl.

Took some niquil and passed out for the next ten hours, fought off the niguil hangover with a movie and letter writing, anothing think I have been pretty behind on.

Productive day at the UNM library with candice- thank god for her universal charger. And sushi, that came off the little boats! Had an epic bike ride- road straight up tramway no problem- flew if you will, and then battled a ferocious head wind all the way back, taking a brief hiatus behind the rows of rental films at Hastings.

completely unproductive at home, and now I am back at the flying star, phew.

in retrospect I should have stayed home.... before shit hit the fan. or smoke that is.

Tuckered out, going hiking manana :) should be wonderful, got to go home and catch some z's.
peace and love. LIz

Edward R. Murrow:
Most truths are so naked that people feel sorry for them and cover them up, at least a little bit.

Familie

So basically in life I think we are just looking for someone who gets us- who may not understand our obsessions with the color orange or playing with Lego, but will take it and run with it. When we are younger it is mostly our family who understands where we are coming from, but as we get older we relate to our friends more, so when we find that one friend who just gets us the most, we want to make them our family. And that is what Karl did when he married Mel, he made her family. I mean to be quite honest I am not sure I get either of them- I mean what could bring Mel down to San Diego to play with robots trusting the good old Schulze sense of direction to get her there, the navy seals are not that attractive. And what could bring Karl out to Pennsylvania in the middle of winter- the Hershey factory is not that great...... But I get it- its love. And what else could bring us all out here today- it could be this fantastic wedding, but I am pretty sure it is love-So here is to Mel and Karl and a lifetime of hanging out with your best friend!
And now they have invited a few more friends into their family!

Taos Box of chocolate

After a week of pushing our minds to the limit- mentally physicially and emotionally drained from over 600 multiple choice questions, 225 of which were a practice were the PACKRAT, of which I knew uh 25? It was about time we spend a weekend pushing the other end of our limits. Matt, Foxy, Kela, Lindsey, packed what felt like 8 days worth of stuff for 8 people into the green weenie, we took off to taos! Jamie, Jami, heather, josh, and candice carpooled behind us, equally as loaded down, the rear trailer hitch riding just above the road, following us on a very convoluted 3.5 hour journey dancing our way throught the drive through at DQ, up the high road to taos and stopping off at the sancutary. Free of the car, and 10 egar bodies, we started playing catch with Eliot's (Foxie's 5 yr old son) nerf ball. We all recognize the raging river beside us- and Michela shouts out "Dont throw it to them if they cant catch" Heather launches it to candice and curplunk! the ball goes straight into the water and takes off down stream- all of us dashing down the riverside trying to reach in for it- heather dashing through weeds and over fences- but the river claimed the first of its victums of the weekend....
soon we would find ourselves just like that foam oblonged ball.. bobbing amongst the rapids...
We set up camp around Beer-thirty. 5 different pods (tents) set themselves up, with the mothership- jamie's million person tent in the middle, to be admired. Food, frisbees, footballs, and friends, and fire filled the afternoon and late into the evening. Dance party. A shit show in the most amazing sense of the phrase.
Strong wind... strong wind... moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake
The wind began to blow and a fine dust found its way on to everything- we didnt notice until 11 when people started falling off and retreating to their tents.
I stayed up- I love the campfire and people begin to fade away, and the last seven of us crack one last beer and keep talking.
In a bit we make our way over to the tents that have been BLOWN AWAY- the once admired big tent is now completely horizantal- flattened by the strong winds, candice and I are sleeping outside and snug ourselves up against the sturdiest tent as a wind block and tune out the immense ruffling of the tents in the wind. By four Am more than half the group has retreated to the cars, and candice is crumpled by my feet. We are all covered with dirt, especially those why didnt put the flap on, and covered with the filtered fine soot that made it through the screen on the tent. Coffee is made, and we make our way over to the rafting meet up spot. Drive way up the river, climb into wetsuits and splash guards and load up on four different boats. Candice, Ben, Lauren, Sophia Tracie and I take the lead and the rest come following- I loved it when our boat was in the back and we could watch as all the little yellow helmets bownced around through the rapids. We went four a 16 mile adventure down the river- keeping our guides as entertained as ever laughing and splashing, falling overboard and shouting commands through class 4 rapids. In the end the river only clamed one boat as victums- flipping it at the very last rapid before we pulled out.
I was exhausted on the ride home, and after laughing hysterically at the DQ lady who was shouting at an unreasonable volume back at lindsey through the intercome, my small reeses blizzard pushing meover the edge into a coma.

Pack. Rat.

I cant say if it was the residual stress, minor but relentless anxiety, or shear excitment for the weekend- but even after not setting an alarm and going to bed when the big and little hand were pointed vertically- I woke up at 5:44, in denial of my unfortunate conciousness I laid restless in my layers of feathers. By 7 I concieted to the day- made my way to the pool and aquajogged the morning away.

9:00 am- Lindseys house. As I walk inside I sigh in releif- because surely I must still be asleep- the place is a dream home. Beatiful wooden floors, vibrent mix of bold and bright colors, and a greenhouse off the master bedroom that has ducts to each room to warm the house during the winter. The kids rooms are straight out of pottery barn. God I want a house.
anyways- plow my way through 225 patient based questions on the packrat. So ok. this seems reasonable- I am a forth of the way though my diadactic training I should be able to get a 25% on the test... a 25% on a 4 answer options multiple choice exam... because of my "training".