World Cup Fever

As I sit here impatiently waiting for the Brazil vs. Australia game to start, I have to wonder...is there anything better than soccer? No. There isn't. I LOVE THIS GAME (I know, I know...wrong sport tagline). Without a doubt, this is the best sport in the world. And really...the World Cup...it can't get any better than this. Sarah, you would have loved the segments they did on Brazil and their two star players - Ronaldo and Ronaldinho. The Brazilians are definitely my favorites so far...I mean what team has players whose names are as fun to say as Kaká? I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT! The tension, the excitement, the controversy, the passion, the skill...IT'S SO GREAT! And best of all...anything can happen. Crazy things happen in World Cup games. It's FANTASTIC!

My New Residency

As I sit here checking my email in the most amazing hostel in the world on the southern coast of South Africa on top of a green lush hill with a view of the ocean down below I have come to one conclusion: I am not coming back. (Okay, I am because I have to, but at least I have a couple of more days!)

Lessons Learned

We have a wonderful luxury in life. It's the luxury of learning lessons from other people's experiences and mistakes and twisted philosophies. As I've thought about it, I've realized that recently I have been the guinea pig for many of the lessons that will surely come in handy to me and my three white mother companions. Of course, me being the guinea pig only came out of my own reckless abandonment of reason and forethought. But I've found that often that is when some of the most valuable lessons are learned. I suppose that's what I get for following Mr. Keating's urges to carpe diem. At any rate, I thought it might be fun to recount some of the lessons we've learned from each other. Post your lessons with a comment, but for now I'll start:

• Jenny confirmed to us that Walter (Sleepless in Seattle) is not a suitable husband for a passionate and super-motivated woman
• I think we are all now well aware that contacting anyone from Willoughby's past is not a good idea
• Steering clear of Miss Grey (as in, Willoughby's latest) is probably wise, as an encounter will only make the heart sting
• Whitney taught us (and I confirmed) that generally the word 'naked' never comes out right in a conversation with the opposite sex

Really, I think Jane Austen already taught us most of these lessons but I guess I'm discovering that I don't believe the stove is hot unless I touch it. That's probably kind of dangerous, but exciting and experimental, too! So, if you've got a lesson to be learned and the thought of seizing the day makes you weak in the knees, you can count on me! I'm feeling very adventurous. Carpe Diem! Really, have I learned anything??

Dreams

Don't you just love that Cranberries song? It is the quintessential 90's alternative pop rock song, and I'll never get sick of it.

Oh my life is changing every day
every possible way
And oh, my dreams, its never quite as it seems,
never quite as it seems

It seems I'm finding that maybe part of the reason that we're allowed to live out our dreams is to help us appreciate what seem to be more mundane experiences of life. The Provos of life. I don't really know what else to say. But that is what's on my mind. I'm going for a run in Fort Tryon Park. Want to come?

Can I also just say that I'm a little surprised by how much I miss the Prince.

Sitting with Ben

Since I don't have internet access from my apartment, I had to come to the Log Cabin to type a blog. I realize that it's been a bit, and I wanted to let you all know that I am still alive. :) Ben thought that the name of our blog was quite witty. Ben and I have become good friends over "American Idol." He understands. We'll leave it at that.
And so far, I have been able to keep Willoughby at bay. Joanna sent me an email worried that I was back in his powers, but I have taken my motto from a recent film I saw: "We grow wiser to him--and that's what makes us strong." Although I toyed with the idea of telling Jo that we were engaged, I didn't want to give her a heart attack.
I have relied on the love of Whitney and Sarah to aid me over the past week. Let's just say that I really needed a friendly ear and someone who would ask me how I was doing. I found myself asking so many people that question, and I had forgotten how nice it was to hear in return. (Ben just ran away--what a man. He is now claiming that he didn't run.)
That's about all from here. I keep thinking that all of my mothers are off on adventures, and I'm just in Provo.

A Bite of the Big Apple

I am in New York! And I'm exhausted... I had a redeye flight on Friday night that got delayed and didn't leave until about 1:30 am. I barely slept on the flight, but was so happy to have Seth meet me at the airport when I got to JFK. It took us about 2.5 hours to get to my apartment (which I LOVE!) and we pretty much just threw my stuff down (and I showered quickly - I think it's essential after any flight) and headed out again. First stop: pizza. Yum. Then we did a mini "welcome to New York" photo shoot - haha - I'll have to post the pics when I get them from Seth. We met up with Seth's friend Jason, and headed out to P.S.1 in Queens. It's an old public school that now holds part of the MoMA's collection. Mostly contemporary stuff. We went out to watch Iron Artist, an art competition a la Iron Chef. Imagine 200 hipsters watching as two teams create something symbolizing "man's inhumanity to man" in 45 minutes while flecks of styrafoam swirl through the air. That was pretty much our experience.

Then we caught a train to Astoria (a Greek neighborhood) where we decided that our hunger had gotten the better of us. We went to a little Greek restaurant and while I enjoyed the style of the restaurant and people watching all of the "OPA!" Greek families, the food I got was pure nastiness. Sad. I just wanted a gyro, but the place we went didn't have them. I was feeling experiemental and very proud of myself for going out on a limb... but now I just know never to order Moussaka again. As we ventured back to Manhattan, my good friends thought it would be nice to show me where I would get off the train for work. We explored Times Square a bit and went for a quick grocery run at Whole Foods. It's quite the natural and organic, expensive shopping experience. I'm eating Kashi Go Lean Crunch for dinner today since that was the only cereal option I'd heard of that they had at the store.

I visited the famous Manhattan 8th Ward for church. It meets in the same building as the temple, near Lincoln Center. Mostly I went because my ward meets at 9:00 and I wanted to sleep in, and I also wanted to check it out. It's a huge ward - actually slightly overwhelming. I will probably attend my Inwood ward from now on. But I did get to see Sister Andersen, a missionary I taught a few months ago in the MTC! :) She is serving in the 8th ward and it was a treat to see her.

Now if I can just talk myself into going to work tomorrow...

LEAVING...

I have decided that a love of travel is really not a good passion. Besides the expense factor, I think there is some truth to the fact that after we have lived somewhere, we leave a part of ourselves there and can never actually feel like we completely belong in one place anymore. That is how I feel about Brazil, and I am beginning to understand that it will be that way for Mozambique as well. Isn´t it odd that we can come to love such different places so much? For a lot of the beginning of this trip I kept dreaming about how nice it will be to not have to wear flipflops in the shower, to get a hot shower, to be clean, not stared at, not crowded onto chapas and machimbomboms (buses). However, now that I have about one more week here before I leave for South Africa, and then about another week before I get home, I am starting to get worried. I had a dream last night about getting home, and it just left me with this immense feeling of sadness. Why do I always have to leave a part of myself in places where I know it will be so difficult to return? I don´t even know how to explain the changes that have occurred in my way of thinking and my views of the world. Anyways, I don´t have much time and I don´t want to be too down. I am very excited to see everyone again, but right now I will admit that I don´t really want to come back. Why does life have to include the sorrow of parting? Well, I do miss you all and am excited to hear about your adventures. I will be back in 2 weeks! Love ya!

On a Plane in 24 Hours

Why is it that right before I leave a certain place, I always find the most compelling reason to stay? Why do perfect first dates only happen when departure is an imminent reality? I suppose it is just a part of life which will help all of us decide to eventually settle down. I cannot comprehend the thought that six weeks have passed and Portland will once again be part of my past. I try to imagine life in Manhattan, but find it difficult to see myself as a citizen of the chic city sky-scraped society of New York. Perhaps I will only be able to see myself in it when I get there. I think sometimes it's hard to imagine anything but the homesickness of the past when you try to imagine new places; all you know is what you're leaving behind.

Tonight I went out with a fabulous modern version of the Gregoire of my past. We had gelatto and then headed to a local concert venue to watch Portland bands UHF and Charmparticles scream the night away. The band that we were looking forward to (Jonah) wasn't hitting the stage until 11:00 and by then Charmpartile had already worn us out and we were on our way back over the Willamette. At my place we talked music and sang and played the guitar -- he's heard of Moxy Fruvous independent of my influence. Can you say "keeper?" :) Conversation was easy, constant and fun. Really, does it get any better? And I'm leaving...

In twenty-four hours I will hopefully be sound asleep as my 747 flys silently eastward chasing the horizon until it kisses the sunrise and brings me to my new playground.

Love you all!