Monday, October 11, 2010

Ode to the Internet

I don't want to take the time necessary to convey the love I have for what has become my love of being able to share with my world of "friends" the very important, deep, and meaningful thoughts I have within moments that I have such thoughtful thoughts. I want to be able to share what I think is worth sharing, with a photo, let's say, that may convey the humour of the situation, within moments of that thoughtful thought.
But the world is not up to speed with me. It's driving me batty to think that I couldn't call out of England without sacrifing our next house payment. All so that I could call my Mum to say that I was at Buckingham Palace to watch the changing of the guard. I also couldn't upload to facebook a picture of the fruit compote that we had for breakfast in Spain, as the compote had very interesting looking fruit/garnish on top of it. All this frustration because I didn't have a free  wireless connection at every street corner as we do in America.
I have imagined what it must have been like for those travellers back in the day when everyone did a "grand tour" of the world. They too were probably wanting to share their experiences with their peeps, but those travellers may have actually taken the time to write and to give thought to what they were writing, in a letter intended for one particular person, or audience. 
My last blog post seemed to be an example how we can make a choice to share even ridiculous thoughts with the world. Does the world need to know that I had a gurgly tummy during my first transatlantic flight? I think not. 
It takes time, and some level of deeper thought to find, and use words to describe the "pretty" river outside our hotel in Toledo. It takes time to decide whether I would like to convey my thoughts in a way similar to Nathaniel Hawthorne, or Erma Bombeck. Either of those writing "styles" take time, which the "younger" generation, such as myself, is no longer willing to take.  Nor are we interested in the wait it may take to have shared those thoughtful, important thoughts that go beyond that layer of instant gratification to which our modern minds have become accustomed.
So, I am not willing to take the time, at present, to really write an ode to the internet, as is would take too much of my time to explain what would only scratch the surface.
I wonder if "we" as a generation have become such that by only extending ourself to "scratch the surface" on any given subject, that we are missing out on a deeper, truly more excellent and meanful life that is intended for us by our Creator.

Tuesday, October 05, 2010

I Was Suppose to Be Sleeping. Things They Don't Bother to Mention in Travel Guides

* warning- I know this post is not completely editted, but I know you all don't want to miss out on the fun!
>I should be sleeping right now... But since I'm not asleep like I should be, please enjoy my stream of consciencenessy thoughts.
Random idea, theme topic 1: Bloating in the sky.
Ever since the airplane ride back from the girls trip to Chicago last September, when Sunae told me that carbonated beverages make one, well, bloat at a high altitude, I've noticed that my in flight abdomen can be, well gurgly, unconcomfortable, and if I may say, Bloaty. Yes, capital B bloaty.
 Yes, middle aged women are often bloaty, but now that I am throughly into my own historical middle age, I can say that whilst travelling  in a plane, in the stratosphere, I, well, get bloaty. 
Why can't we just take a pin and pop the bloat like a balloon?
2. Squirells, as related to bloating.  
 It feels like a couple of squirells are chasing each other around in my gut. No. I think it's more like they are trampelinging from one of my internal organs to the other. Name an organ-liver, spleen, gall badder, those squirells are just bouncing away. 
This is what one may feels like after five airline flights and a transatlantic flight as one of those flights feels like. Not that I'm complaining!
3. "You were lucky!"
 This travelling process also reminders me of back in my old Young Life days when the old Malibu Princess would take FOREVER to get to the Princess Louisa Inlet. The last trip to Malibu, almost twenty years ago, I eventually progressed to bringing a sleeping bag, pillow, and Thermarest. Back then I wore a hat, Sporthill pants, all while I hoped it didn't rain so I could sleep on the less noisy deck, which was outside, mostly, uncovered. To makes the return trip more difficult, was when when I was all out of money, and could only smell the salt and vinager potato chips...
4. Preparation for Spench.
Another observation is that this world wind tour our family is taking is real, not just a dialogue previously written for Madame McKenroe's first year high school French class. Nor is it not just another hour of non-chatter in my college Spanish discussion class. This is genuine immersion. A chance for me to bring the good old American Melting pot across the pond and mix all my language studies, history studies, and art studies into a smorgasbord.
So, here's what's gone on so far. The beginning of this trip is like a Tuesday on a soap opera. The suspense that built up after Friday, climaxed on Monday, and this was the waiting time for whatever storyline change was going to happen on Friday to leave one in suspence. 
Today, well sort of technically yesterday's threat alert- a little snippet about increased terrorist threat for Americans in Europe added a little flavor to our itinerary. This  warning evoked that the kind of feeling one gets from watching a James Bond movie. The suspensful kind that leaves you hanging on the edge of your seat.