Saturday Soliloquy #32: Our Recent Travels (the way to General Conference)

Ria told me more than a year ago that she wanted to go to SLC, UT for General Conference so much that she was going to earn the money up to take our family there.  She was determined that we would make the trip October 2013.

She didn't earn money as quickly as she expected.  When she did sell a painting (her primary avenue for earning the money for the trip), she turned to me and said, "I'm so excited!  We'll be able to go to General Conference for sure!  I only have to sell a few more paintings!"  I wanted to encourage her, but didn't want to mislead her, so I asked, "How much do you think we need to drive to Utah from here?"  She said, "I don't know.  But we've got almost as much as need now, right?"

Obviously, I need to focus a little more on financial information in her homeschool!  :)

I did inform her about how much the gas would cost and her hopes were dashed.  She said, "Oh!  I don't think I can make that much by next Conference."

By that time, I'd started a business and determined that I would take my girl (children) to SLC for the next General Conference, if at all possible.

I did work hard toward that goal and was able to earn enough to pay to rent a van.  My husband wasn't willing to allow us to drive our own vehicle for concern over it's viability for such a long journey.  However, I did not have or make enough money to pay for the fuel to get to Utah.

We were blessed by a wonderful benefactor who gifted us with enough money to pay for fuel!

So, we departed in the evening of March 31, 2014.

It took right around 24 hours to reach Jessie's Dad's house: Pop.  Jmy was able to meet his name-sake.  That was probably more important to me than anyone else.  It was nice to see and photograph them together.  I'm glad all the children got to spend some time with him.

From there, it took us around 34 more hours to drive to SLC, UT.

I'll share a story or two from that journey, in the future.  For now, though, I have to tell you that I would not recommend doing it in the way I did unless you absolutely must due to circumstances.  And, if you decide to go ahead with it, you should probably make sure you do a few things I did not do before you depart.

First, make sure to get enough sleep and/or take a nap before you leave.  Sleep is really helpful when dealing with 5 children cooped up WAY too long.

Second, if you can afford it, it would probably help to sleep somewhere on a bed.  I like driving at night because the children are sleeping.  It is definitely my preference.  However, I would've liked to sleep on a bed instead of the floor boards of the van.  But circumstances being what they were, the floor was WAY roomier and comfortable than I expected (with both front seats pushed as far UP as possible and both middle seats pushed BACK as much as possible).  And EmJ (almost 10 months old at the time) didn't mind the floor one bit.

Third, let school go while traveling - whether you homeschool of public school, don't worry about school.  Deal with it when you return from the trip.

Fourth, hopefully you can either get off TV entirely (as a regular habit) or "TV/electroncs starve" your children for at least a week (probably better to be longer) before you leave.  (I DID do this one and it's SUPER helpful.)

Fifth, keep sugars ingestion SUPER low before and during the trip.  I was not as mindful of that as I should've been before we left and I definitely paid the pieper for that one.  BLECK.

Finally, if you believe in it, have your favorite priesthood holder (or three) give you and the children blessings.  I did not do that before we left our home, but I did do it before we left Utah... and the two trips were like night and day.  Night on the way there, and day on the way back (day being glorious and wonderful in my opinion).

In the preceding, I alluded to the difficulty of the drive TO Utah.  Honestly, though, I cannot figure out how to adequately describe how horrible it was.  Hellacious doesn't cover it.  Seriously bad.

I took my own advice on all points above for the trip back to our house.  So, I'm sharing from experience!

Next time I'll share about our time IN Utah!  :)

Saturday Soliloquy #26: How I Met My Husband: The Online Story

Before I went to Japan, I tried out matchmaker.com and thought it was pretty fun.  I met a few guys that were nice and went on a few dates.  So, when I returned to the US it was only natural that I would use the same service.  I was hoping to find a fella with whom I could hang out and kiss.  Man, what a silly girl I was.  Still, that truly was my 'goal' for online dating.  I didn't understand then what I understand now about the spirit connections formed in any sort of sexual interaction.  Kissing, whether folks want to admit it or not, is most definitely a sexual interaction.

I'll share more about that later.  If you'd like to read what I have learned about that subject, make sure to let me know.  Requesting more on that topic will sure speed my sharing on it.  This post is meant to be about how I met Jessie.

I was stood up twice after I came back to the US.  Jessie was going to be my last try at hanging out before I went to Australia.  I'd decided that maybe my Host Family (in Japan) was right.  Maybe I was Christmas Cake and no guy (no one) would want me.  Man, you should see what I looked like back then.  For me to believe such a thing is absolutely ridiculous... but I did!  Which, really reveals SO much about how much I thought of myself.

Jessie found me through matchmaker.com and wrote to me.  I had established a few rules for myself.  At the time that I used matchmaker.com, they had a few different areas for each profile.  There was the multiple choice, short answer, and long answer.  I filled mine out absolutely truthfully.  Although I knew it was unlikely that most told the truth as I did, I attempted to treat them as if they did.

One of the rules I'd established for myself was that if a fella answered one particular question wrong, I wouldn't write to him.  The question was: "What are you looking for?"  The choices (since it was in the multiple choice section) included things like: "long-term relationship, just for fun, one night stand."  I hope you can determine which answer was unacceptable to me.

Well, Jessie had answered with the wrong answer.  He had answered that PARTICULAR question with the wrong answer.

The funny thing... with every other guy I'd met through matchmaker.com, they always asked to meet me really fast.  Not Jessie.  In fact, I asked to meet HIM!  You know what he said?  He told me he had to do laundry because they were going out to sea for two weeks!  (Sounds a bit like when a girl says she has to wash her hair, so she can't go out.)

I told him I'd write to him in email while he was gone.  He didn't believe me.

But I did.

The night he returned, I was out with another guy.

Yes, I was that cute!  heeheehee

Anyway... I went out with that other guy just because I was bored, honestly.  I wanted to go out, he offered, and so I went.  Unfortunately, I didn't REALLY understand how much he liked me.  And I didn't deal with him very well... I wasn't blunt and direct (as I usually am).  In fact, I was a coward in the way I dealt with him after that night.  He brought a friend to meet me because he liked me THAT much.  That, of course, scared me off because I truly was looking for just a fun friend to hang out with and maybe kiss sometimes.

When I returned from hanging out with that guy and his friend, I found that Jessie had called and was so annoyed with myself.  To give me credit, though, their ship had pulled in early.  Jessie wasn't due back until the following day.

I attempted to call him back.  No answer.  They were using the internet and those were the days when a phone line was almost always tied up to use the internet!  Can you imagine that?  I tried repeatedly to call him back.

Somehow we finally connected and made a plan to meet at the Denny's I'd worked at on Newtown Road.

Saturday Soliloquy #12

Another experience you simply cannot understand unless you’ve experienced it in Japan is Karaoke.  In the U.S.A. Karaoke, as I’ve seen it, is a caricature of that which exists in its country of origin!  In Japan there are Karaoke businesses.  These are buildings dedicated to Karaoke.  When you go, you usually go with a group.  You and your group are brought to a room fitted with seats, a table, a big screen and a method of choosing your songs to which you’ll sing.  You are assigned a waitress and can order appetizers and alcohol.  There may be places that have meals as well as appetizers, but I didn’t experience any.

Along with Karaoke, it’s interesting to note that drinking alcohol is a completely different thing in Japan compared to the US as well.  I mean, for instance, you can purchase humungous cans of beer from automated machines (like soda machines).  That is a whole thing in itself, too, the whole automated dispenser-thing!

Regarding alcohol, it seemed very much that there was not any stigma attached to the consumption of it.  The only problem that arose (socially speaking) as far as I could tell and was told, was if someone who drank was a mean drunk in public.  Otherwise it seemed like alcohol was viewed simply as a means to an end.  For instance, I learned it was pretty common practice for a boss to go out drinking with his employees for the express purpose that his employees might see him as a regular person and not the mean “bottom line” guy he has to be at work.  It was definitely seen as a social lubricant in Japan far more than I’ve ever known it to be accepted in the US.

As for the automated dispensers… well, if you can imagine that it might work in such a machine, I’m absolutely certain the Japanese could tell you if it works out as practically as it does in theory!  Seriously.  In addition to beer (and other alcohol to a lesser extent), you could find pantyhose, magazines, food, porn, movies, and more in such machines.  I’m absolutely certain I did not see as wide a variety of them as there are, in fact, available to be seen and purchased from.

Another automated sort of thing that was very different in Japan is that there were numerous video game/gaming spots.  Within each such place, you’re sure to find a mini-photo booth.  When I went to Japan, these photo booth pictures were popular enough that most of the tiny planners have a few pages specially dedicated to and made for them.  I heard, also, that there was a bit of trading of them that was popular.  They sure were fun!  The photo booths were one of my favorite activities, actually.  They could be found almost everywhere, not just in gaming places.

Although I didn’t experience it at all, there were also specific places for various forms of gambling.  Pachinko is one I can think of right off the top of my head.  I can’t tell you any more than the name because I never went in or played.  But I can tell you those shops/buildings/places were VERY well lit and noisy.  Regular shops were also lit well, but these gambling houses were almost TOO well lit.  This seems almost a direct opposite of the same sorts of places in the US… though I’ve never personally been to one in the US… I’m just basing that on what I’ve heard about them and seen in movies.

Saturday Soliloquy #11

When I went to Japan, I had very little understanding of the culture into which I was stepping.  I didn’t know what to expect in most instances.  One thing I thought I would understand without too much problem was the food.  I knew I loved sushi.  What more could I need to know?  Well, as it happens… a lot!

For instance… in Japan there are often displays of the kind of food prepared in a given restaurant.  You look at them and choose and then place your order.  Well, my first experience of this was rather embarrassing.  I thought the display was the food from which I should select… yes, some of the fake food looks THAT real.  So, I picked up the display and brought it along to where I thought I should pay for it.  There was much confusion – especially complicated by the fact that I spoke very little and understood probably less Japanese at the time of this incident.  Thankfully, when I went to Japan the Japanese were (still are from all I understand) so super polite that they would not make fun of me or laugh in my face as an American employee in the same situation would more than likely do.  I rarely blush.  But I think I must’ve been quite pink in the cheeks over that one!  I sure felt flushed!

Another difference that was quite fun is the sushi bars.  You think you know sushi bars, huh?  Have you BEEN to Japan?  Okay, I hear a no.  Well, then, my friend, you have NO clue.  Not all, I’m sure, but perhaps most of the sushi bars in Japan are far cooler than anything your experience can convey.  Convey.  Conveyor.  Conveyor belt.  Can you imagine little plates of sushi moving along a little conveyor belt either #1 from the kitchen, through a little plastic flap door, around your table, and back through another door into the kitchen or #2 on a conveyor belt circling endlessly around the sushi chef(s)?  Can you imagine it?  Well, if you can not, let me know and I’ll try to more adequately describe it for you!  It was awesome!  One thing about these sushi bars is that the sushi itself is priced based on what kind of plate it is sitting on.  If you’re not familiar with the pricing… well, it can get pretty steep pretty fast.  And they do have drinks on some of these conveyor belts… and those are stupid expensive.  And yes, it is upsetting and embarrassing to find out how much more expensive after you’ve selected one only to find out you really didn’t have permission to do that… but wasn’t told so from the outset.  *sigh* One of the problems of passive aggressive communication practices… and that’s basically almost all Japanese.

I’ve already mentioned the Korean BBQ restaurant.  That was super cool.  I sure would love to find something like that around these parts.  Highly unlikely, though, I’m sure… given that the nearest town to me is only of medium size… definitely not a megopolis or anything like that.

The other coolness that I especially loved was the Chinese restaurant my Host Family took me out to with some friends.  I definitely had the STRONG feeling of being their pet on display on that outing.  None-the-less, it was a great restaurant experience.  So, it was a Chinese place.  Our party had a room to itself.  Cool, I’m thinking.  There were two main tables.  I was put at the children’s table, which I’m sure was intended as a mean thing, but though I could feel that, I preferred to be among the younger folks.  In the middle of each table was a ginormous lazy susan.  Food was places on the lazy susans and we all selected food from the lazy susans to put on our own little plates and then eat.  It was very cool.  And though I do not remember any of the food items specifically, I did enjoy it quite a lot.  And the effort of the youth to include me in conversation and try to get to know me was quite nice, too… definitely experience far more of that among them than the adults among whom I “should’ve” been seated.  Boy, I’m glad I was insulted by being seated among the youth!  J

The final note about food is one that I’m pretty sure translates across all cultures.  I’m not absolutely certain on this, but I’m pretty sure given the natures of those involved are pretty static across cultures.  I reference the way that my Okaasan (Host Mother) spent hours preparing various foods so that my Otousan (Host Father) could enjoy the glory of preparing them at the table.  This was not a daily practice, but, rather, what happened for those meals that, apparently, my Otousan enjoyed fixing for the family.  All praise was directed toward the father even though all he did was nicely put the work together and then serve it.  Hmmmm…  Sound familiar?  This is not the primary mode of food preparation in my home, as my husband is a Chef… but there are times and it does annoy.  A common experience of this I can immediately think of is the “traditional” Thanksgiving dinner in many American homes.  My Host Mother seemed fine with it, though I think she did appreciate that I thanked her for preparing all the items used in dinner.

Saturday Soliloquy #8

Japan: Part 2

I attended Kansai Gai Dai Daigaku in Hirakata-shi.  I lived in Katano-shi.  It took me about an hour to get from my host family’s home to school.  I rode my bike to a bike parking lot near the eki (train station), locked it up with a neat tire lock that was the combination kind, rode the train with one changeover to Hirakata-shi and then walked about 30 minutes to my school.

The sheer horror I felt upon realizing that no one I knew was going to help me to know where to go from the changeover to my school was one of the most frightening things I’d experienced to that point in my life.  Thankfully, I’d taken it upon myself to get to know as many of the other foreign exchange students as I possibly could during our week before host family placement.

My host sister directed me to where I should go and I, a scared woosie, cowered inside myself and tried to follow her directions.  I kept wondering how I would ever know if I’d gone the right way!?  Surely I wasn’t going the right way and would end up somewhere far from where I should be!  You cannot imagine the degree and extent of my relief when I saw another foreign exchange student from Kansai on the platform I ended up at.  (I was elated to realize I had comprehended her directions AND executed them properly!)

The poor fella I recognized?  Well, I was so thrilled to realize I knew someone there that I ran up to him and embraced him with the exuberance that only someone who knew me back then would understand.  I’m not the person I used to be….

Anyway… the first couple weeks were full of anxiety and fears.  I had a difficult time acclimating to Japanese life.  Not that I disliked it.  I guess you have to understand who I was up to that point a little better.

Before I went to Japan, as I remember myself, I was a very shy person who was working on “fake it till you make it” outgoing-ness.  I was doing really darn well, apparently, because no one around me believed for a second that I was shy or introverted.  Yet, I definitely was.  When I was younger (before I absolutely HAD to start doing things for myself, working, and making purchases and whatnot), I was terrified of social interactions.  Even the simple kind of a barely communicating purchase at a fast food place seared me with dread.  I was shiver-me-timbers scared stiff.  Seriously.

I remember one time, when I was trying to do something or another online, I started to feel the room was shrinking around me.  It felt like I couldn’t breath.  Honestly, I thought I was going a bit nuts and burst away from what I was doing just as quickly as I could, jammed my outdoor shoes on and ran to the top of the hill to a small park of sorts.  It’s a quiet place I’d found.  I often escaped there during the school day when I felt the beginnings of that anxiety-attack feeling come upon me.

Saturday Soliloquy #7

Japan: Part 1

My trip to Japan was actually before my trip to Australia.  I’m glad, for the most part, but the awesomeness of Japan definitely outshone Australia as a result.  I think if I went to Australia first, I might not have been so disappointed with it.  Who knows.

So, I left for Japan in August of 2000.  I was only there for three and a half months, but those were some amazingly full months!

I wrote a newsletter about my experiences there, which I sent to a few people.  One of those people is my Mom… I rather hope she has copies of what I wrote.  I need to ask her.  However, I’m going to initially, at least, write my story of Japan as I would be left to tell it… from my memory now.  Since my children, especially Ria, ask me regularly to tell about my time in Japan, this really is the best way to do it.

Perhaps I should start before the trip with a few details.  First, it is important to know that my Dad’s limited time in Japan as a result of a Navy cruise definitely influenced my decision of destination to Japan as a foreign exchange student.  However, if I had not been taking Japanese with Ishibashi-sensei, I may not have seriously considered Japan when I started to think about doing exchange trips.

Ishibashi-sensei is such a spunky, smart, amazing lady that I wanted to be in her presence as much as possible.  So, I decided to add Japanese to the Education minor, which was necessary for me to become a teacher.  As a result of this choice, Ishibashi-sensei convinced me to go to Japan to complete the majority of the course requirements for my Japanese minor.  She conveyed how much more amazing and wonderful it would be to learn about Japanese religions and be able to visit shrines and temples IN Japan.  Because I was seriously planning to go SOMEwhere as an Exchange Student anyway and my Dad had such a great experience there, I was an easy sell on going to Japan.

As a result of getting all of my information submitted first, I won a travel scholarship.  That’s how my plane fare was paid.  What a huge blessing that was to me!

I worked full-time during that summer break and saved up somewhere around $1000.  Thankfully, at the time I went to Japan, the exchange rate was quite in US currency’s favor.  So, my $1000 US became a little bit more in Yen.

I honestly do not remember where I ran into them, but somewhere and somewhen I was out and about I happened to see and speak with some LDS Missionaries.  To be completely honest, I do not remember the meeting at all.  I only know it happened because I retained the business card of one of the missionaries I met.  His name was Elder Triplett.  As an interesting connection, these many years later, I am currently (2012) in DeLand 2 Ward with a brother of Elder Triplett.  Amazing, right?  Regardless, I know that this “chance” meeting that I don’t even remember was orchestrated by our loving Heavenly Father.  It was one of His Love notes to me.  He was showing me in a very real and concrete way that He knew where I was and that He was mindful of me… and wanted me to know that ministers of His Church would touch my life wherever I went (remember me meeting Elders in Sydney and then Perth, Australia!?).  This is a precious gift to my heart now, though I didn’t get it then.

Saturday Soliloquy #6

Temple Square

because Ria asked (October 7, 2012)

I know the Temple at Temple Square in SLC, UT is beautiful.  I’ve been there.  I’ve even got a picture or two of me in front of it.  However, I don’t really remember anything at all about the Temple or the surrounding grounds.  I went there pretty often.  I remember at least three distinct visits.  I think, honestly, it was probably more.

The only thing I really remember of Temple Square are the sweet Sister Missionaries who were such a blessing and comfort to me.  As I reflect upon those visits to Temple Square now, I think I was seeking Christ in my own limited and rebellious way.  Although I did not find Him in the way He must have desired, I found His Love in those sweet Sister Missionaries.

Their names are gone from my mind.  Their faces are erased.  Beauty is the only thing about their physical appearance that I can remember.  Each one was radiant.  I wanted to BE them.  I wanted to BE a missionary (even though I decried any belief in the LDS Church at the time).  I wanted to feel love for everyone the way they so obviously did.

I knew they felt this amazing love for everyone, you see, because it was so very obvious that they loved me.  Steeped in sin as I was at that time in my life, they loved me.  They listened.  They accepted me.  The comforted me.  And it was just perfectly clear and obvious to me that they loved me.  And I wanted to BE that.

So, even though it took me around 8 years after those sweet visits to Temple Square in SLC, UT to return to church attendance… even though it took me that long to return to Christ overtly… I had found Him in those sweet Sister Missionaries on Temple Square.

Whenever I meet a woman in the Church who inspires me or who I aspire to be like, I feel compelled to ask them if they served a mission.  Whenever I meet a woman who seems to radiate Charity, I question without even considering: “Were you a missionary?”  And ya know what?  I cannot think of an exception, there may have been one, but I cannot remember it.  As I recall, every woman I can remember admiring or desiring to emulate has, indeed, served as a missionary.

Though we cannot change our past and I am mostly happy with who I am (my past is part of that so I have to accept it), there is a small part of me that wishes I would’ve been courageous enough to stick to the restored Gospel of Christ and served a mission.  There is a humungous part of me that wonders what and how I would be (and my life with it) different if I had been the woman our Father surely desired me to be: Faithful.

A potentially positive result of these almost wishes and musings, I desire very much for my girls, my daughters, to become like those sweet Sister Missionaries who worked at Temple Square.  Heck… maybe one or more of them will be such a missionary!  Wouldn’t that be something!?  It sure would do my heart some wonderful good.  But to be missionaries...  THAT is the most important aspect of one of my greatest goals for my daughters; all of my children.

Will I think them a failure if they do not serve a mission?  Certainly not.  If they grow up to know that their life is a mission that should be dedicated unto the Lord… then I will have accomplished something marvelous in them, for the world and, most importantly, for Heavenly Father!

Saturday Soliloquy #5

Part 5 and Final: Australia

One of the purchases I made before I left Perth was a didgeridoo.  It was the most expensive decorative item I’d ever bought for myself to that point… and still to this point, too.  Unfortunately, much of the actual (not just sentimental) value of it was removed when the tag snapped off during the packing process when we moved from Virginia to Florida.  It was a result of having the Elder’s Quorum help us move.  But how can I be mad about that?  I mean, I was mad.  But I had to let it go because they helped us so much.  I mean, I don’t think we could’ve loaded the moving truck in time to actually move if it wasn’t for their work for us.  And we didn’t have to pay for their time and effort.

I also bought some other omiage… what are they in English.  Oh, yeah, souvenirs.  I bought Jessie a really nice boomerang (mostly decorative) and a bullroar/outback telephone/bush phone (also very decorative).  I bought t-shirts and ash trays (because they looked cool).  I bought less expensive boomerangs and other less expensive souvenirs.  It was pretty fun to make those purchases, but also expensive.

For my trip TO Perth, I traveled the southern edge of the island continent.  For my return to Sydney, I would travel the northern edge of the continent.  I wanted, very much, to go to Uluru, but because I didn’t have enough time to travel there and get to Sydney in enough time, I had to nix that plan.  The funny and rather odd thing is that normally Uluru is a big red mound-type hill.  The year I was there, it was covered in grass because there had been so much more rain there than normal.  So, instead of a red mound, it was a green one!  I didn’t get to see it with my own eyes, but there were many people who shared this interesting bit of information with me and anyone else they could talk to about it.  It was that strange!

My first stop after leaving Perth was Monkey Mia.  It’s a tourist destination with a dolphin that visits the shore each morning.  When I went, the dolphin had a calf.  I didn’t get to see either up close, but I did see them.  It was neat to see a dolphin in real life and in the wild, for the most part.  I think the only time I’d seen a dolphin before was when I went to an aquarium… I think that was in Australia, too, but I can’t remember for sure.

Monkey Mia also had lots of pelicans.  I hadn’t seen a pelican in real life before, so that was pretty cool, too.  The one very uncool thing about that little vacation was that I was foolish and got a horrible sunburn.  It hurt for days and days and made riding a hot bus very uncomfortable!

From there I went to Broome, Western Australia, I think.  I’m pretty sure I stayed in a hostel there because of the timing of buses, but maybe I only changed buses.  The next place I know I stayed in a hostel was Darwin, Northern Territory.  The bus pulled in quite late in the evening and then I had to catch the next bus early in the morning, so I literally only spent the night there.  I don’t even remember what the city looked like – except, I think, that’s the city I felt like I was back in the USA because it just seemed like a city in the States.  Since I had traveled by bus in the USA before, I actually had a direct experiential comparison.

Still, I wanted to investigate the town.  I didn’t get to, though, of course.  On to the next stop.  Brisbane, Queensland was nice.  If I remember correctly, I remember feeling like that city was very similar to what I’d heard about and seen (pictures and movies) of some southern cities in Florida.  Since I live in Florida now (2012), I can tell you I think I was spot on.  Of course, I think the comparison would be even more accurate of Brisbane to Miami or something like that, but still.  It’s pretty similar.  Palm trees, pastel colored buildings, very open and spread out… that kind of thing.

Newcastle, New South Wales, was a stop, I think, at which I had to change buses.  I’m not absolutely sure about that, though.

I do know, for sure, that I returned to Sydney!  J  I also returned to the hostel I first stayed in because it was just that cool.  It was the Sydney Central Hostel on Pitt Street.  I think it would be super neat to return there with my family.  I’m sure I would have a much more enjoyable time with my children and husband than I did alone!  I liked it, but it wasn’t super enjoyable because I felt so very lonely for someone(s) with whom to share the experience(s).  I guess that’s why I remember those girls who befriended me in Adelaide and Katrin Henn so well.  I wish I could remember my Adelaide girls’ names.  ahwell

There was a big market in Sydney that I enjoyed perusing and visited twice, I think.  The whole area was very neat.  There were so many places for shopping… they were all close together and all too easy to meander from one area to another.  I’m pretty sure that it was on this trip to Sydney that I made the trek out to see the Sydney Opera House.  What a very neat structure!  I mean, I knew that from pictures, but seeing it in person was definitely worth the walking time and effort to get there and back to my hostel!

I remember the hostel in Sydney being a great place.  It was clean and orderly.  The staff was young, so they were distracted, but they were kind.  I think it was at the Sydney hostel that there was a locker room area where you could pay to keep your bags secure until you could get into your rooming area (and keep extra bags even when you were in your room).  I had to pay extra, but it felt good to know they would be safe in their little locker (or, at least, I believed they would be safe).

My return to the USA was, as I recall, uneventful.  The airports were still under tighter security than ever before or since, I think, so that was stressful.  But I didn’t have any problems with flights being super late or missing a connection or having to sleep in the airport (which I did have to do on my return to surprise Jessie back in October).  Oh, I just remembered something about that.  There was one point at which during the whole process of trying to get back to Virginia that I sort of met another family trying to get back to the same area because their son was set to graduate from some military school or another.  We were basically in the same boat.  I don’t remember why, but I ended up almost driving with them to another place to catch another flight, I think… but I felt absolutely sick about it (after we were already on the road), so I had them bring me back to the airport.  It was at that point, I think, that I ended up sleeping in the airport.  It was absolutely nuts!

I was definitely glad to be back in the USA.  I felt very different, though.  Reverse culture shock, upon returning to the States from Japan was rough.  The reverse culture shock really was not so much a problem this time around, but I was still coping poorly with the after effects of the destruction of September 11^th.  I felt like I was horribly altered… changed in a way I felt like everyone should notice… yet it seemed no one really did.

It’s only been very recently that I realized a part of me died as a result of that False Flag.  The part of me that died was not a terribly good part, necessarily… but it was the lighter, easier going, more fun loving part of who I had been.  I became much more serious and goal oriented after my experiences surrounding that September than I’d ever been.  I also became angrier, I think… angrier because I felt this constant looming sort of unsafe feeling.  I still feel it.  I’ve just gotten used to how it feels… and, more importantly, I feel God’s Peace and His lifting power.  I guess, it would be more accurate for me to say that I know the sense of impending danger is constantly sort of looming, but the burden of it is not upon me the way it was back then.  Our Heavenly Father has that kind of authority… to relieve us of burdens in ways that may seem small to the understanding of men, but which are truly miraculous!  Anyway…

I guess that’s all for the story/stories of my time in Australia.  I hope you’ve enjoyed it.  I think I’ll move along to… or move back in time… to my trip to Japan.  My time in Japan and Australia are the two stories Ria asks me to tell most frequently… those two and my wedding and birth stories.  So, that’s what I’m planning to write.  Next Japan, then probably I’ll consolidate some pre-published (on my blog) stories about meeting Jessie and getting married, then share or re-share birth stories for each of my children in Saturday Soliloquy.  Probably, I’ll share whole stories all at once in the future… we’ll see.

Saturday Soliloquy #4

Part 4: Australia

Do you know I actually felt responsible for the attacks of that day?  I did.  I felt like I should’ve been able to warn someone.  I should’ve been able to help or something.  I believe now, that I was doing exactly what needed to be done and that all good that has come of the evil that was done is exactly the best it could’ve been.  I’m grateful to believe that I may have been able to help.  I’m especially glad that my help (if I was of any help) was completely unnoticed.

I went to school and spent time with my friends a little bit.  Mostly, though, I spent time alone.  I felt unable to benefit anyone else, so I didn’t want to bring them down.  My friends Josefine and Keefe interrupted my lonesomeness many times.  Felicia did as well.  I’m still very grateful for their kindness and care!

The missionary dinners still happened every Sunday.  Those were great times.  It became rather burdensome (financially, especially) after a few weeks because the guest list kept growing!  After a while, I finally asked my friends if they could help by cleaning up afterward.  I think I eventually may have asked for others to bring some food to share, but I can’t remember about that for sure.  I know I asked them to help clean up, though.  I enjoyed preparing the food and eating it with them, but having to clean up by myself (or with only Felicia) was a major bummer.

October was the month, I think, that Jessie returned from his deployment.  I returned to the USA to surprise him.  He was definitely surprised!

Before I went back to the States, I made sure to purchase a camera Jessie’d told me about that he wished he had again.  It was a Nikkon film camera, I think.  I no longer remember how much I spent on that, but I spent a lot.  I also purchased some special lenses for it.  We still have it.  Don’t really use it, but we do have it.  He was very happy to receive it.

The return to the USA was rough.  There were problems with flights connecting and the security was ridiculously altered… it was definitely tougher and to the extreme.  All bags were searched thoroughly… it was super time consuming and really stressful.  One of the funny things that happened as a result of the tighter security is when a guy had to go through my bags.  He was getting in to the camera bag.  Well, I had packed it full of panties and bras because I wanted to keep the camera and lenses safe, but I didn’t have any other small bits of anything to stuff in there to keep it safe.  Well, that poor guy was so flustered.

I finally did get back to the States and my brother Josh and his new wife picked me up from the airport.  Apparently Caroline didn’t (and still doesn’t) remember meeting me the first time we met before I went to Australia.  Crazy, right?

Well, I might not remember meeting her, either, except that I had an experience that made the meeting stick in my head.  When I met her Evelyn was angry with me.  My sister was sitting on the couch with Caroline and Josh, so I didn’t want to go over there because I didn’t want to cause a kerfluffle with Evelyn.  Instead, I stood near the front door.  I remember standing sort of in the corner at one point, a little bit behind a floor to ceiling lamp my parents have/had near there.  When I was introduced to Caroline, I learned that she was from a family of six children, too.  When I learned that her family had two boy and four girls (opposite Josh’s and mine), I thought that was really neat/interesting.  The part I had a difficult time dealing with at the time is that immediately after I learned that information about her, I heard, in my mind, “He will marry her and they will have six children.  Two girls and four boys.”

Please remember, because it is important to understanding my feelings about such an experience, that I was not attending church at all at the time.  In fact, although I believed in God again by then, I did not necessarily believe in all the other stuff I was taught as I grew up.  So, when I heard, in my mind, this information about my brother, I felt like I was going absolutely nuts!  I even remember looking around and trying to figure out if anyone else heard it – even though I knew I didn’t hear it in my ears.

Thus far, Josh and Caroline have one girl and two boys.  Unless they make some radical changes, I’m pretty sure they will not have any more children because my brother, Josh, got himself snipped (commonly referred to in our society as being “fixed,” which is revolting to me since, in fact, someone who does such a thing is actually purposefully breaking the equipment the Lord Himself installed!... but I digress).  They felt and still feel, for all I know, that they did not (do not) want to have any more children.  That's totally fine, of course.

Now I’m going back to the main story.

I had reserved a room for Jess and me in a nice hotel in downtown Norfolk.  We stayed there for a day or two.  It was fun and nice.  We went out and walk around the downtown area and had a meal around there, I think.  Mostly we just spent time together.

Because of the trauma of my experiences, I was really happy to be back and seriously wanted to just stay and not go back to Australia.  It would’ve messed up my education a bit, but I didn’t care.  I just wanted to stay with Jessie and get back to school in the next semester.  Jess talked me in to going back to finish up the semester and my travel plans in Australia.  I’m glad he did and that I listened and did finish up that goal.

The return flight to Australia was not nearly as bad as getting back to the USA.  I remember having a difficult time getting back to campus.  I think I took a Taxi, which was rather strange because the driver wanted me to sit in the passenger seat not the back seat and I thought that was odd.

So I finished the semester.  It went fine.  I cannot remember any problems or anything that went particularly poorly.

My final return flight to the States would depart from Sydney.  The bus pass I’d purchased allowed me to travel as much as I wanted, but I couldn’t back track unless there was no other option.  Setting up my trip back to Sydney was a little bit stressful because I had a certain amount of time to travel and I had to work my needs into the scheduled bus travel times.  I managed it, but barely.

Saturday Soliloquy #3

Part 3: Australia

What I mean by giving up is that I had tried speaking directly to the dorm full of kids partying who made lots of racket and they would be quiet for a few minutes, but then they would become loud once again.  Some nights, before I “gave up,” I would yell across the courtyard at them to shut up.  When I gave up, I gave up fighting to try to get some sleep.  I just accepted what was and tried to occupy my time productively… sometimes more so than others.

 

So things proceeded until the evening of September 11, 2001.  I do not remember anything particularly about the day, but that evening I started to feel super sick to my stomach and fuzzy-headed pretty much all of the sudden.  These feelings and sensations set in sometime before 8pm.  In Australia it is 12 hours different from the east coast of the USA.  My roommates, by this time, knew not to bother me if I was trying to sleep.  Surprisingly, this time I was able to fall quickly to sleep.  I slept well, in a way… well compared to the sleep I had been getting.  But I was dreaming amazingly strange dreams.  In my dreams I was viewing two realities at once.  One was what it was… the other was me trying to interpret it in real time… trying to make it my own when, in fact, it was not my experience at all. 

Around 10:30pm someone came rapping roughly on my door, calling out to me.  I guess it was rather difficult to rouse me, that’s how deeply I was sleeping (totally uncharacteristic of my month there!).  Felicia, Josefine and Keefe were yelling that the Twin Towers had been bombed and I needed to wake up and come see. 

My dorm did not have a TV in it.  We didn’t buy one together and no one person had bought one for the apartment dorm.  So, my friends took me over to one of their dorms.  It was totally dark by this time, so I remember disjointed moments of walking with a flashlight bouncing ahead of us.  I also remember my friends talk to me, but feeling completely out of place… like I was in the wrong reality… almost like I didn’t really know where I was.  I woke up well enough, I suppose, by the time we arrived at my friend’s dorm apartment. 

My friends sat me down in front of the TV.  I was sitting on the floor.  The TV was already on playing and re-playing horrific scenes of devestation: the Twin Towers being bombed, a plane crash, an attack on the Pentagon.  My friends were upset, but they had seen these things a few times (for the most part), they were watching me (I realized later). 

At first the feeling of being in the wrong reality persisted and I felt only confusion.  I saw what was going on in the scenes on the news, but I felt so very strange because I felt like that was where I actually was, not where I was actually sitting.  And then it hit me like a ton of bricks!  I’d been dreaming the things I was now watching on the news.  I’d seen almost exactly the same things as the news was showing.  The only difference is that in the dreams, I’d actually BEEN there and felt the fear and concern and terror of a few different people.  In these dreams I was myself (interpreting the dream in real time) and I was also the person actually living the horror.  In one, I was a woman who ran from a Tower or a building that fell.  She/I was holding a baby.  She/I tripped and the baby flew forward out of her/my reach.  She called out, “Where is my baby?  Is she okay?”  I called out, “Where is my baby?  Is he okay?”  In another moment, I was a person standing a few blocks away when the first plane flew in to the Tower.  I saw it because I was walking in that direction.  I stopped walking and stood in abject horror as I realized what had just happened.  The true depravity of the situation finally sunk in and I called someone on my phone, but the phone would not work.  As myself, Tori, in Perth, I dreamed the exact same things, but the setting was the downtown area of Perth.  The exact same things transpired, just in the environment I was familiar with.  Although I’ve been to New York, I never saw the Twin Towers in real life before.  There was another experience of split experience versus dream, but I cannot remember it at this time. 

I’ve come to understand, after these 11 years, that Heavenly Father accomplishes so much with and through us with each and every little experience of our lives.  For instance, the False Flag of September 11^th is a blight in the memory and experience of most people who know about it.  However, there were innumerable miracles and blessings that came about as a result of that devastating attack.  While I refer to miracles, I do refer to miracles in an overall sense.  But I also believe (have heard) that there were miracles wrought in the lives of many individuals as a result of this experience. 

Before I made the trip to Oz, I’d begun guided imagery meditation.  I wanted to become more in tune with the universe and develop my psychic abilities (please remember I was not going to church at all at this time of my life, so referring to psychic abilities as Spiritual Gifts was beyond my ken).  I did my meditation a few times once I was there, but nothing really regular.  However, I do realize that it was those meditation experiences that enabled me to be the tool I was for Heavenly Father on the 11^th of September 2001.  I believe Heavenly Father used my spiritual strength to help others who physically lived within the attack zone to endure what they went through. 

I was not as strong as I needed to me, though.  I was ill equipped to deal with having a psychic experience!  I felt like I was going absolutely NUTS.  Seriously.  I know now, what I know about God using me, but I had not frame of reference for such a consideration back then! 

My Mom pulled me back from the brink a few times.  Her calm, soothing voice, sometimes stern and forceful… other times sweet and uplifting… I know that my Mom is the biggest reason I’m still able to function today.  Jessie helped, too.  But he wasn’t really able to call often and I certainly wasn’t able to call him.  My creative writing class and painting class helped tremendously as well.  Having those two outlets by which to purge the “crazies” helped me process through the feelings, reactions and dreams I had for months after the attacks.

Saturday Soliloquy #2

Part 2: Australia

Even though I was away from the fullness of Christ’s truth on the earth, God was mindful of me.  No matter where I went, He showed me His messengers very quickly.  I cannot remember at all when I ran into the Mormon Missonaries in Japan.  All I have of the exchange is a business card.  I’m sure Father God made sure I received it so that I would have a tangible reminder that I did meet them there.  Funny thing about that… Triplett is the name of the missionary whose card I have.  One of his brothers is in my current Ward here in Florida… the Deland Second Ward.  Pretty flippin’ neat to me!!!

I was pretty much alone while in Sydney.  I did meet Katrin Henn with whom I am still infrequently in contact.  We’re Facebook friends.  J  We enjoyed some time together and ate a meal together.  I was glad to have someone to hang out with for a while.  Solo travel for a girl like me is definitely not the preferred mode of operation!

Sydney, like Japan, had lots of little sushi bars… and the small step in, buy something, eat, and leave kinds of places.  There really aren’t those kind anywhere I have seen in the USA.  I also enjoyed some finer dining, but nothing super expensive.  My most expensive meal was Thai, but I cannot remember where I ate it.

From Sydney I went to Canberra, the capital of Australia.  It was very spread out… the sights I wanted to see, that is.  Since I wasn’t willing to spend lots of money, I planned to walk to do sight-seeing.  I was pretty well out of shape by the time I went to Oz… so I was way tired out by that city.  I think my favorite place there was the AustralianWar Memorial.  The depth of the impact that place had on me was tremendous, which is why I remember it so vividly.

Next stop was Melbourne.  I honestly do not remember anything spectacular about that city.  Actually, I can't remember anything at all about it!

Adelaid was the next.  I was befriended by two lovely girls who were traveling together.  They were having such a good time together.  They were so kind as to allow me to join them and I had THE most fun of my whole southern Australia traveling with them.  Their names are lost to me.  I know one of them had brown hair and the other had blonde hair, but other than that... I cannot remember anything.  They befriended me while still on the bus and then invited me to hang out with them.  I'm so grateful, still, for that kindness!

After Adelaid, I had to travel the LONG stretch to Perth, the city in which I would go to school. I chose it for a really silly reason.  I chose Perth because that is where Tony Zeppetella’s ship stopped during his 6-month cruise after he left Virginia and broke up with me… and broke my heart.  Yeah.  I told you: really silly reason.

Somehow my luggage had been misplaced in the travel.  It seemed like a problem (and really was), but overall it was a huge blessing because I ended up having to walk a LOT farther than I expected once I left the bus terminal in Perth.  I remember that I was SO thankful I didn’t have all my bags to lug around with me both once I left the bus terminal and especially once I got to Edith Cowan University!  I had to walk all over the place to get things situated and get into my dormitory.  It would’ve been a huge difficulty to lug those bags and all that weight in that heat!

One of the problems of the missing luggage is that I did not have a pillow or any bedding in my dorm.  I didn’t have the time or wherewithal to buy any by the time I realized this, so I spent my first night in my dorm room with very little sleep and very cold.  (The very little sleep would be a longer-term problem than I had any idea about at that point!)

My dormmates soon began to arrive.  Stig, from Norway.  Wan from Thailand.  And an Aussie whose name I cannot remember… he barely ever associated with us, which is why I cannot remember him.  I can see his face pretty clearly, though.  He was a heavy-set guy.  He played the sax, I think.  I’m pretty sure he smoked pot.  He was very shy and kind.  Felicia and another girl from Malaysia.  So, we were a pretty diverse group.  My best friends while there were Felicia, Josefine, Keefe, Mijke, and the Mormon Missionaries.  Josefine and Keefe are married now!  So neat, right?

Oh, yeah… the Missionaries.  That’s a funny story.  See, I mentioned earlier how Heavenly Father let me know He was watching out for me everywhere I went… well, either the day after or two days after I arrived in Australia (but definitely within the first week), the Mormon Missionaries actually knocked on my dormitory apartment’s sliding glass door!  As a result of which, I ended up having them over to eat almost, if not every, Sunday while I was in Perth.  Yes.  Seriously.  It became a sort of big party.  I was a bit of a party organizer in Japan AND Australia.  Funny, eh?  I even have a few of their names in my special address book a Japanese lady gave me!  J

So, eventually school started.  I was taking an Education course that had to do with Special Needs Children, a studio art class, a writing class, and something else, but I cannot remember what it was.  The writing class and art class became, with my Mom and Jessie, lifelines for me after the trauma.

I arrived in Perth at the very end of July or beginning of August.

Sleep has, as long as I can really remember, always been a bit elusive.  I have a difficult time falling asleep and sometimes (too often) staying asleep.  At times, the slightest noise will waken me and continuation of it will prevent me from re-attaining that state of rest I do so desire to enjoy.  This was definitely true of my experience in the dorms at Edith Cowan.  Initially, I had a difficult time adjusting to the time change.  When I was pretty much ready and able to sleep through the night, the kids in the dorm complex started partying and making a ruckus to all hours of the night… all week long.  This was a huge problem for me.

Eventually I gave up and started to spend the majority of many/most nights at the campus computer labs.  I had my favorite one, of course.  I played a LOT of  Bejeweled.  Back then it was really new and I only played it as a time wasting thing… not gambling or anything like that, which is available now-a-days.  I didn’t JUST waste time.  I also spent quite a lot of time writing for my Creative Writing class.  (Kinda like now: can’t sleep at 3am and I’m writing.  Story of my life, eh!?)

Saturday Soliloquy* #1

*The definition I intend most for the term soliloquy is: a speech in which a character reveals his thoughts to the audience but not to other characters in the play.  The play being, of course, life.  It seems rather appropriate given that I have such a difficult time actually speaking my stories... so I can tell them here... to my audience.  And I'm pretty well aware that my audience is very few (if any?) of the actual characters with whom I interact on a daily/regular basis!  So... it's totally appropriate, to me.  And since this is my little place, my opinion counts most.  ;)

PART 1: Australia

My girls, Ria especially, regularly ask me to tell them stories about my life.  I rarely feel any desire to revisit the past.  But I realize how valuable stories are.  I do not feel adept at telling them verbally, though.  That is Jessie’s forte.  So, I’m going to begin remember-telling the stories from my youth and young-adulthood.  I’ve told some of these stories in my journals and other places, but this is especially for my children because I love them more than anything or anyone else (except their Daddy).

Australia

I made the plan to travel as an exchange student to Australia at the same time I made the plan to go to Japan in the same capacity.  I was twenty-two or twenty-three years old, or so, and felt just so very old to be single.  (I expected and rather hoped to be married at 19, like my Mom was.  So, given that misguided expectation, 23 was pretty old.  As I write this now, at 36, I scoff at my silliness!  How YOUNG I was!!)  So, because of my agedness in unmarried-ness, I decided to map out my life.  Surely, I figured, if I wasn’t married by now, who would want me!?  (This attitude was impacted greatly by the misadventures in dating I’d experienced.)

The first order of business was to determine what I should do to earn money for the rest of my old-maidenhood.  (I think the experience I’m about to describe actually happened when I was a little bit younger, but I didn’t get back to my secondary education for a while after it.)  I had no clue where to begin.  So, I turned to a college catalog.  The index, to be exact.  I started at ‘A’ and went through ‘Z’ and highlighted all the things that were interesting to me.  I have to tell you, there were lots of markings.  However, they did sort of congregate together.  Once I made it through the first to the last, I went back through, but started at the last and went back toward the first.  I didn’t make it all the way back to the beginning because I had an experience.

As I came to the highlighted term ‘teaching.’ I felt something remarkable.  I felt like it was something I simply MUST do.  I was excited and happy and felt I’d accomplished my purpose.  As I sat there, rather exultantly, I realized that I didn’t know WHAT I should teach.  I had a thought to go back toward ‘Z,’ but felt the answer was in the direction I’d already been going… so I continued.  The feeling I’d felt when I read ‘teacher’ occurred again, but with completion when I came to ‘English.’  It was more than I’m describing.  I felt euphoric, finished, yet only at the beginning.  I felt like I KNEW what I needed to do.  I’d been feeling rather flopsy and unsure about what my life would/should hold, so this feeling… this was a NEW feeling!  I knew WHAT I should study in University.  What a great feeling! 

I developed my ten-year plan when I had about 2 years of College left.  Since I was still a student, I figured I should do something interesting AS a student.  So, I decided that I should study abroad.  I chose Japan and Australia because my Dad had been there as an enlisted NAVY man while on cruises when I was a child.  I’d loved the stories he told and the experiences he conveyed.  He rarely told the stories… yet another way we are alike, I suppose… but when he did… WOW.  I was transported! 

I went to Japan first.  I’ll tell you about that in another story.  This one is all about trying to get to Australia!  It was rather difficult just getting there, I tell ya!  You see, I met a guy when I got back to Virginia from Japan.  Within a month of returning from Japan, he found me on matchmaker.com, actually.  He IS your Daddy!  How did you guess?  J 

So, even though he departed for a six-month cruise the May after we met (January 2001), I felt like I should just stay in the U.S.A. and finish school.  But he and I talked about it and figured the time would pass more quickly for both of us if we were both doing something great.  So, I worked and prepared, planned and eventually went to Australia. 

I left VA at the end of June or beginning of July 2001.  I was a nervous nelly and packed WAY too much.  I mean, seriously way too much.  I mean, I could barely carry all the stuff I packed.  I had two huge backpacking backpacks and another smaller daypack style backpack.  The weight… well, I was able to use the buses on the way TO school, but not without unpacking lots on the way home from school!  Seriously.  (That has a LOT to do with my food storage obsession and the trauma I experienced as a result of September 11, 2001.  I digress.) 

Departure was seriously nerve wracking for me.  I dislike change, even exciting positive change is difficult for me.  On one hand I kept trying to convince myself that I should stay and continue school as I’d been doing it, but on the other hand I argued myself into keeping with the portion of the 10-year plan that I COULD complete since I wasn’t actually married yet.  The arguing side won out.

I got to Sydney without too much difficulty.  Flying that long is exhausting, but I didn’t have any serious hurdles to jump or problems to overcome.  I was able to make my way to the hostel I’d previously booked.  It all went very smoothly, for which I was very grateful because I was seriously scared of this lone travel thing.  Thankfully, at least, English is the primary language in Australia, so I didn’t have to worry about communication, for the most part.

Sydney was great.  I remember loving my hostel and feeling at ease there.  I mostly wandered around pretty aimlessly while I was there.  I did take a tour bus up to the Blue Mountains, but I can’t remember if that was my first time there, or whether that was my last week in Australia.  *sigh* Regardless, that was a pretty great trip.  And I do think it was at the beginning (this part of the story).

It was during one of my first few days in Australia, and definitely there in Sydney, that I was wandering around and sat myself down on a park bench.  I was just enjoying the scenery and the breeze, when I happened to see Mormon Missionaries.  I was so surprised and pleased (note: I wasn’t active at all in the Church at that time in my life) that I called out to them.  I think they were both American guys and we enjoyed a few exchanges.  This is a pretty big deal.  Here we have a tangent.