9.23.2013

California, day 1, chapter two.

The schools I visited today were ridiculously beautiful. One of them was an oasis atop a hill overlooking Newport Beach, one of them a mini-Stanford, and the other a Mission-style expanse with mountains in the background. I chatted with a number of counselors, some who knew the college well and some who did not - but it's all in a day's work. 

School #1

School #2

School #3 

And now I'll visit a community based organization in downtown Santa Ana, which has already proven to be quite a contrast to the almost too-perfectly groomed coastal Orange County towns. I've never presented at such an organization, but I look forward to the welcome diversity in surroundings and audience. 

Another challenge this trip had presented so far: driving! Lots of it! Did you know southern CA is really spread out? And, according to the vista I had while traversing interstate 241 multiple times (aka learning how toll roads work) - it's not all densely populated. I saw a lot of rolling hills without so much as a water tower on them. After my CBO visit, I'll be driving to San Diego where I'll stay at a Hilton apparently near a premier golf course (Torrey Pines? Didn't ring a bell) (but it's not like I follow a lot of PGA action). Many scenery changes today.

It's hot, too. It must be near 90. And while my hair lays better in dry heat, my shiny face and sweaty back add a level of awkwardness I had hoped to outgrow in my 6th year on the job. Things I've improved upon? It may be minute, but I can navigate awesomely. I have also been blessed with the ability to find the last available free outlet in two Starbucks visits to keep my phone charging because without my phone... I'd be halfway to Oregon by now.

As Matt would say, that's all.


California, day 1

This is my view during a stop between high school visits:


This doesn't suck.

9.19.2013

Adventures in the common cold

What started as an innocent "meh, I don't feel quite right" has blossomed into a full-on rage-fest of germs, snot, puffy face and crabby mood. I may have screamed profanities at my gps lady when she led me in circles around the Hertz car return (which, to find in the off-site St. Louis airport location warrants a sense of traffic and navigation only possessed by people like Sacagawea). I also may have thrown shade at the man holding the B 29 boarding number trying to budge in front of me, B 23. I had barely paid for my Kleenex before desperately ripping it open to catch my runny nose. I am writing this from my window seat, with two nice people next to me who obliged my need to get up and drain the HonesTea I pounded with my decongestant. I do love listening to their banal conversation about Chase Freedom cards and frequent flyer miles. Then it turns to conversations about kids in school. And now that the woman next to me knows I work at a college I'm worried she'll bring me into the conversation. Which generally would be okay if I didn't look like this:


Not pictured: damp Kleenex I'm clutching for dear life.

I take off for Southern California on Sunday. It will require 100% of my mental and physical capability. I can still leave room for the occasional rage at stupid navigation systems, though. 


9.18.2013

Fine to dine

This is my travel season dining companion:


Sure, my companion is quiet and isn't much to look at, but offers me the ability to awkwardly stare at my iPhone and update my blog, check work email, put out fires, etc. I used to be more self-conscious about dining with an empty booth, but now I relish in it. Primo service, sometimes little free things thrown in, and in and out in a flash. Can't beat it.

Of course, I'll always prefer a real human as my companion but I'll take what I can get. Also, see photo below and tell me if I'm supposed to drink this...? 








9.17.2013

Gray skies and face masks

There's nothing like waking up in a hotel and feeling as if you were hit by a Mack truck. This morning, I was greeted upon awakening by that sore throat and stuffed head feeling. So lovely. But, oh well - it's boring to talk about feeling sick.

 Also this morning, I woke up in familiar St. Louis fall weather - gray, heavy sky, maybe going to rain, maybe not. I visited one of my favorite private high schools, with its beautiful Spanish mission-style architecture and curated art gallery near the entrance. Last year when I visited, the weather was the same but I was caught in a downpour. The friendly college counselor gave me an old umbrella from lost and found to take with me. The ratty piece of wire and nylon helped keep me relatively dry as I navigated the city for three other high school visits. Wet feet, damp hair, raindrops splotching my professional wardrobe. There's nothing like trying to pull yourself together while your face drips from the elements. I've been lucky so far with my travel season. I'm only two weeks in, but just as I start to collapse from being away, missing my Matthew and feeling disconnected from friends and my city, I get to go home. Traveling alone is a finely-honed skill, though, and one I'm proud to say I've mastered. It comes down to getting enough activity and eating relatively well. Yesterday, for old times sake, I got a Jimmy Johns sandwich and wolfed it down; then, immediately regretted it. I've really taken to the Whole Foods a few interstate exits away - at least I know the options there are delicious and won't make me feel like I ate a brick. Of course, if you feel a little lonely and miss talking to humans who know you, in person, it can all just fall to hell...

If I don't have people to see, I'll find places to have coffee or work on my laptop with the hum of others around me. I also have another slightly more non-husband-approved tendency: shopping. I can't help it. The number of schools I visit compared with number of actual students seen correlates directly with how loudly the local Nordstrom Rack or Sephora calls to me. If I haven't had success at a school or there's a lackluster fair, I somehow manage to fall inside a store and all of a sudden I'm buying the most comfortable sweater and a lipgloss that makes me look older than a current college kid (an important feature if my overall look). Other signs I've hit rock bottom? I zone out while emailing and all of a sudden I'm watching Big Bang Theory or Two and a Half Men...and LAUGHING. Or I start to consider Bravolebrities like Kim Z or NeNe my gal pals. TV binges are okay but it's probably good to break it up with a few phone conversation (ie checking to see if the Huz has fed/watered himself in your absence; checking in with parents when dad is recently retired and all of a sudden decides he's a chef). (PS Big Bang Theory just played a big laugh to a character saying "coccyx" in its plural form...).

That's about all I've got for now. I am being productive: working on eradicating whatever plague has invaded my face pores --
-- which I texted to my parents, eliciting a "oooo SCARY" response from my mom. I need to drink all the water possible to also clear up whatever is also currently taking down my immune system. It's all good, y'all. I got this.

9.11.2013

12 years

Just as I'll never forget where I was when I watched the planes hit the towers (first hour art class with Mr. Hopkins, 10th grade), I'll never forget my first visit to Ground Zero. I approached the site with my classmates during an off-campus study program to New York City in 2007. It was our first full day in the city, and as we approached Ground Zero from Battery Park, the feel in the air was palpable. There's a sense of reverence at Ground Zero, and even with the New York white noise of car horns, sirens, and millions of rushing people that seems to hover in the space above, you just stop and stay still for a minute. I visited when the clean-up was still in progress in the giant footprints of where the towers were; there wasn't a clearly defined footprint or elegant place to reflect like there is now (according to photos I've seen). But, it was a powerful image of recovery and rebuilding. Large photos from the day circled the viewing area near where the PACE station had been; behind it and across the street, the little cathedral stood as a makeshift memorial. It held not just religious services, but around the perimeter of the chapel and narthex, left-behind memorials of plastic flowers and pieces of cloth with names written on them. Lots of "Missing" photos and signs, as well. I remember being especially touched by the incredible displays from other countries. It's trite to say, but no matter where you were - New Yorker or not - you were affected by this incredibly deeply. And you've been to New York since then, you'll agree that there is an intense resilience of the human spirit rising from the city.

9.10.2013

tis the season

I realized just now that it's possible to drive a car where I feel, simultaneously, like I have the longest legs and the tiniest t-rex arms. I navigated this tin-can Toyota-something to a familiar suburban Hampton Inn in Kansas City, where the manager graciously allowed me to check in at 10:30 a.m. And here I sit, monitoring my student worker's coordinating endeavors, requests from bosses, and searching for creative Facebook content for our admissions page. It has to be close to 90 degrees outside, yet my room's air conditioning blasts and I'm freezing. I've found an afternoon mini-marathon of a show I've never seen, Rizzoli & Isles, but for background noise it'll work. Plus, Matt and I toured the Paramount lot this summer during our honeymoon where the drama is filmed. This is where I learned of Matt's long-standing crush on Angie Harmon and her soothing husky vocal tones. Today is a much slower than normal schedule, because the cheapest flight landed me in KC at 9:15 a.m. for a 6:30 p.m. fair. So I'm trying to keep up, plan ahead, and will get lunch soon with a friend in the city who is always great to see. Travel season has started, and as such, I'm going to try my darndest to update this here blog for my #1 guy. Our summer was a full one: our wedding, honeymoon, friends' weddings, moving into a new house and trying to unpack amid it all. And now I embark upon my annual fall travel season, which will be highlighted this year by voyages to both sides of the country, and not just in the middle. And, gone are the road trips to the Dakotas and Northern Minnesota. I'll miss the bright trees. I have chosen to continue writing here because as it turns out, I have 3240 other blogs I've half started that are bouncing around the internet somewhere. I'll try to include photos as much as possible, though, because we all enjoy visual aids to stories.