Peru Part V - Machu Picchu

On the morning of the fourth (and last) day of hiking, we began our day by being awakened at 4:00 am. I wish I were kidding. The reason for this is that trail to Machu Picchu opens at 5:30 am. The idea is to be one of the first groups in line to get going on the trail. Why? Because we want to hit Intipunku (the sun gate) before the sun rises.

Let me explain a bit here. The sun gate is not actually the sun rising. The sun gate is the spot in the mountain across from Machu Picchu that the sun first rises over, and thus when the first rays of the sun's light hit Machu Picchu in the morning. So it's not tecnhically the sun rise, but it is the first sunlight that hits the ancient city. Apparently, if you're there on time (and the weather cooperates) it's a beautiful sight to see.

We were not there on time.

Surprise!

And we were booking it, too. I mean, the trail from our camp to Intipunku had one really really (really) steep portion, but otherwise it was moderate ascent with a little bit of descent thrown in to keep you on your toes. I was practically running...at minimum I was at a fast trot. Rindee actually couldn't keep up with me. I think our guide was surprised. He kept saying that we didn't need to hurry, but I really wanted to see the sun hit Machu Picchu. I'm not sure it would have mattered if I had gone faster, though. The clouds were still pretty thick when we arrived at the sun gate. For example, the first picture below was taken at 7:35 am. The second picture was taken at 7:40 am, and the third picture was taken at 7:41 am.

The clouds moved unbelievably fast. We were actually relieved that we got to see the city at all. (Oh yes, that's actually Machu Picchu that we're attempting to take a picture of. It was our first glimpse of our goal.)

Some (sane) people choose to arrive at Machu Picchu early in the morning, and make their way to the sun gate from the city. This doesn't involve camping, just an overnight stay at a hotel in Aguascalientes, a bus ride to Machu Picchu, and a 45 minute hike up to the sun gate.

I'm not judging. :-)

Thus, as we headed down to Machu Picchu, we kept passing all these people in nice clean clothing with hair that had been washed in the last four days. They smelled like lotions and softener and perfumes. I couldn't believe it. I kept saying to Rindee, "They smell so good! And their clothes are so clean!!" Yeah, I think it would be accurate to say that by day four, I was good and ready to get back to civilization.

Before you actually enter the city, there's a point where taking pictures of Machu Picchu is excellent. We stopped here for a while for photos and discussion of the city we were about to see, and it was at this point that we began to be hopeful that the weather gods would be kind to us on our last day. The first picture below was taken about 10 minutes before the second.
Okay, I'll shut up now and post a bunch of pictures. First a little background, though. The last time I was in Machu Picchu, I was 16 years old. I had a point and shoot plastic Kodak 35mm camera. I didn't realize what I was walking into, and I ended up running out of film. I spent the rest of the time walking around the ruins and just absorbing the energy that comes from the mountains. It's ridiculous how powerful that place is. Not to get too "new agey" on you, but you can almost feel it humming. When I was walking around as a teenager, I would get as far away from groups of people as possible and just sit with my eyes closed and relax. But I never really forgot how frustrated I was that I ran out of film and couldn't capture everything I wanted to show my friends back home. (However, when I got my pictures developed, they came back with a personal note from the developer commenting on what beautiful shots they were. The site is really THAT gorgeous. Pictures don't even do it justice.)

This time, I didn't make the same mistake and took about 100 pictures of Machu Picchu. I'm not very good at editing, so I'm just going to stick a bunch of them up here for you to see. I'll try to put a description of what I was taking a picture of, but otherwise, I'll just let them speak for themselves. They are roughly in chronological order, so you can see how the light brightens as the sun came out (slowly but surely.)
The photo above is of an area that used to be a moat. It was another form of protection for the city. The picture below is the same moat looking upwards.






At about this point, I became fascinated with pictures of Machu Picchu through doors, or windows...any stone structure really. You'll see a few of these.









Blue Skies!!!
Ahhh...This is Intipunku from Machu Picchu. It's that little dip in the ridge of the mountain. See it? That's where the first rays of light would hit Machu Picchu each morning. There are actually temples set up in Machu Picchu so that on the summer solstice, that first rays of sunlight will shine through a window to perfectly hit a spot on the ground that will make a sacred shape. No kidding.






A word about the photo below. This was a guard house, and the highest point in Machu Picchu. When I was 16, I remember running (RUNNING) up to this hut in a race with my cousin (who was 36 at the time - whole new respect for the cousin...) From that high vantage point, he took a picture of me with the ruins behind me that won a photo contest at Butler University. Even though Rindee and I were exhausted, I cajoled her into heading up to that point with me to recreate that picture 14 years later. We didn't run.
Once we got up to that vantage point, we were able to take the following pictures.

And while I can't show you the picture that Rindee took of me to recreate the photo of sixteen year old Emily (because I look like a horrible version of thirty year old Emily in it) I can show you this one of the two of us triumphant at the top.

Immediately following this picture, we sat and enjoyed the view (and the warmth of the sun) for a while, and then headed down to meet with our guide to officially end our tour. We had two choices - take the bus down to the town of Aguascalientes, or hike down. Rindee was for the bus. I believe my exact words were, "Come on - we're so close! We started hiking, let's finish hiking!"

The town was five miles away. I don't think Rindee will ever forgive me.

A short break from Peru

Sometimes, I wonder how I got lucky enough to find this job? Meet Olive. She's visiting today until her forever family comes and picks her up this afternoon. The picture doesn't do her justice. She's SO cute. Luckily, I can love on her and call her cute and give her kisses...and then send her home at the end of the day. Three dogs are all I can handle right now. Promise. I look longingly back on the days when all I had was Casey. Sigh.

Also seen at work...the flowers on my desk. Well played, dear boyfriend. Given my disdain for the holiday, he didn't resort to the cliché of roses, but (against my wishes) brought me flowers anyway. Apparently he's in on the secret that even the most cynical of hearts melts when confronted by flowers... Damn. Who told him? He even remembered to look for a boquet with Gerbera Daisies. I guess Valentine's Day brings out the best in all men?

Other random notes:
- I had a chem quiz yesterday that I'm fairly certain I aced. Woo to the Hoo! Unfortunately, in class immediately following, my professor mentioned quadratic equations. Do YOU remember quadratic equations? Me neither.
- I'm venturing out of my apartment tonight for dinner with friends, and Saturday night for game night with other friends. I feel like a normal person again. (though I'm sure my schoolwork will suffer.)
- I bought a book called "All About Us" and asked the boyfriend to fill it out with me if he absolutely felt he must get me something for Valentine's Day. He was as thrilled as you can imagine. (I wonder if the flowers were an attempt to get out of this?) Regardless, it's filled with interesting, thought provoking questions. As long as you're both honest, I recommend this book to anyone.
- It's COLD here. Like "dogs-run-out-to-do-their-business-then-turn-around-to-come-back-in" cold. I dislike cold. I need to move to California or something. Anyone want to pay my rent?
- The boyfriend's birthday is in a week and a half. Any suggestions for what I can get him?
- Tyson is currently on a regimen of drugs to help with his anxiety. I don't want to jinx it, but so far, it seems to be working. That's the good news. The bad news is that he's only on the drugs for 12 weeks. During that time, we're supposed to get him used to being in his crate (and NOT injuring himself). Fun.
- Starbucks is one of the most interesting places on the planet. Did you know that? When the ridiculously short hours for the library closest to my house end, I tend to move the studying to Starbucks. I've seen breakups, I've seen divorced parents doing the child swap, I've seen giggling high school girls (lots and lots of giggling high school girls)... I mean, you name it, I've seen it. I'll blog about this someday. Who knew?

Peru Part IV - The end is in sight

First, one more picture from day two. Here's the entire group at dinner the second night. This picture couldn't be taken at lunch because A) Rindee and I arrived a good 90 minutes after everyone else, and B) Rindee chose to sleep instead of eat lunch. I basically went to lunch and sat comatose while picking at chicken. Yeah. We were tired.

A quick note about camping. I was as comfortable as possible with my sleeping pad and down sleeping bag. The bag had a hood type thing that you could tighten with a drawstring and pretty much wrap your entire body in the blanket - which is exactly what I did on the second night. Being up that high is COLD. I would never have made it if the guide hadn't suggested filling a water bottle with hot water and putting it in the sleeping bag with me. Genius. It may have been the coldest night, and I may have looked like an inchworm, but MAN did I sleep well :-)

For day three, I'll just let the pictures speak for themselves (with a little help from Emily commentary of course.) Please note that there are MANY more pictures from day three. This is due to the fact that A) we slept more than we had at any other point since our adventure began, and B) we didn't have to carry our packs. Even though the weather on day three was the worst out of all three days, we took more pictures to document our trek. The weather changed this day from drizzly to flat out rainy and since we were at a higher elevation than we had yet been, it was cold. When we stopped for lunch, we were damp from the wind and rain, and even though we were in our food tent we had ceased all exertion, so it was actually bone-chillingly cold. We listened to the rain pour down outside the tent and were torn: stay in and try to stay dry, or to out in the rain where at least we're warm from the hiking. Luckily, day three was mostly descent, and we went down into the "tropical jungle" portion of our hike. The rain did eventually taper off into drizzles and then nothing at all.

The morning of day three, our guide "let" (read: strongly suggested) Rindee and I leave about 5-10 minutes early so that we could have a head start. After our 90 minute late arrival the day before, I can't say I blame him. We made pretty good time without our packs. After about 15 minutes, I asked Rindee to take this picture of the campsite we had left behind.
Our first stop was Runkurakay. Unfortunately, when we arrived it began to rain so we pulled out the ponchos. I have no pics from the ruins for you. Sorry. You'll have to make do with the pic of the ugly chick next to the sign for the ruins. At least I can prove we were there somehow. (Hey - it was early. Early morning + hiking does not = flattering pictures.) I would like to point out that we arrived at the ruins in the middle of the pack this time - not last as usual. Go us!
As we continued on our hike, the rain cleared a bit, and we got the following pictures, one of the trail we were traveling and the other two of the view when we could see it.


This next picture was taken when we stopped for lunch. As I mentioned, it was FREEZING. I took this picture of one of our fellow hikers because it perfectly summed up how we were all feeling.
After we had all eaten lunch and waited for as long as we could, we continued out into the rain. Along the trail, we came to this Inca cave. It was only about 20 meters long, but it was pretty cool nonetheless. This is actually one of my favorite pictures from our trip - not only for the cave, but because the way Rindee and I look perfectly sums up the day.
Then Rindee wanted an action shot - I think she was trying to show the drop off on one side of the trail. The stones (that were actually laid by the Incas by the way) were actually pretty slick...and I think she had a fear of falling off the edge...

As soon as we could see the next set of ruins, we paused for another photo op. We couldn't quite get the ruins in the pic, so we settled for the view instead. (This photo also serves as proof that without our packs, Rindee and I kept up with the group pretty well :-) (Random note: this was actually one of the many points on the hike where I actually said, "My boyfriend is a genius!" The hat that I'm wearing was soaked from the day before, and did not dry in the cold overnight. However, since it's wool it was still just as warm as ever. I didn't even care that I looked like "cancer-patient Emily" in these pictures. I was warm, and that's all that mattered. Genius!)
The following two pictures were of some ruins (Wiñay Wayna which actually means "Forever Young.") that were about 30 minutes from our campsite. Had the clouds pulled back a bit, we would have actually gone into the ruins. As it was, the views were obscured, so we just took pictures from afar. The first picture is the first time we could see the ruins on the trail, and the second is when we were much (MUCH) closer.

From the same point where I got the closer picture of Wiñay Wayna, I rotated about 45 degrees and wanted to get a picture of the mountain and the river. We could actually hear the river from where we were. I couldn't believe that. Man it was LOUD!
From there it was just a quick 30 minute hike to our campsite for the night. Since it was the last night, we took a bunch of pictures like:
Rindee and I in our tent.
The entire group at our campsite before dinner:
Our dinner spread on the third night. They served us restaurant quality food each and every night. Amazing since all they had to use they carried on their backs the entire way.
And finally, our porters. A word about them... They were responsible for carrying the necessities for our campsite. This included all the food, the tents (both the meal tent and our individual tents,) and all of their personal belongings. (On the third day, they carried the personal belongings of Rindee and myself as well :-) They carried an average of 50 pounds on their back - per porter! Additionally, they were the last ones to leave the campsite (as they tore everything down for travel) and the first ones at the NEXT campsite so everything was set up when we arrived. It was truly remarkable what they did. As we were hiking, people behind us would shout "Porter!" and everyone would draw to one side to allow the porters to run (RUN!) past. Man.

Okay - this weekend I'll finish up the last post about Machu Picchu. If you think I had a lot of pictures from day three....you ain't seen nothin' yet.

Peru Part III - "Once in a Lifetime"

First, more pictures from day one:
Here's a view of some more ruins that we passed. (There were so many that the guide didn't even bother to name them to us.

Here's a river that we crossed. The Urubamba, I believe. We crossed several, or maybe just one several times. Either way, they were all frothy and fast moving like this one, but since it was the first day, this one got its picture taken. After that, they sort of lost their appeal. It may have been due to extreme exhaustion.

Here's Rindee bravely crossing the scary river on the slippery bridge with no guardrails. (Little did I know that this would become one of the LEAST of my worries.)

Another pretty view courtesy of Rindee:

And just look at how happy I looked. So happy and well rested and definitely not in any physical discomfort. Welcome to day one!

Here's our first campsite. I don't know about you, but I LOVE sleeping in tents!!

Oh yes, and once I figured out that there would be no mirrors on this trek, I took quite a few of these types of photos. You know, just to make sure I didn't have any large foreign objects stuck to my face. I would post more of them, but - you know - this is a family friendly site, and I don't want to scare the children.


To backtrack a little, when we first met with our guide for the trek, he went through what we were going to be facing. The first day was "Easy" the second day was "Challenging" the third day was "Unforgettable."

On the first day, we hit a pretty steep incline that our guide called "the first test." I finished last (of course) but it's not like I was hours behind the rest of the group. I felt confident going into day two.

Before I begin the description of day two, keep in mind that while it was a very very (very) difficult day, the experience was awesome for the grandeur we saw, and the accomplishment that we achieved. I just sort of tended to forget all of that in the difficulty of the climb...

Yeah...I don't have so many pictures from day two. Apparently there was a bit of a language barrier, and what meant "challenging"
to those running this tour was actually "soul crushingly impossible." To begin, it started off completely differently as we hiked through this sort of jungle theme. The grand vistas weren't entirely gone, but they were definitely fewer and far between. We hiked through that jungle-type vegetation for the first two to three hours. Rindee seemed to have more energy than I in the mornings (I always KNEW I wasn't a morning person) so she was pretty consistently ahead of me. It wasn't cold, in fact, with the exertion, it was actually pretty warm. I think the vegetation had quite a bit to do with it. To explain the incline, I think that Rindee was only about 20 steps ahead of me when she took this picture. It was in this jungle madness that I took a tip from Tyra Banks. This past season on ANTM, Tyra advised a girl who was struggling with tears to just "get it out and get over it." She said that if you didn't just let the tears out, you would struggle with them for much longer than necessary. With that in mind, I had a minor breakdown. It wasn't so much that I didn't think I could make it, it was just that it was SO HARD, and I was SO TIRED. Keep in mind that the worst hadn't even come yet. So I cried, and Rindee encouraged me, and we kept on going. After our rest stop (and I won't post pictures because we all looked exhausted and terrible) Rindee and I took pictures of our eventual goal for the day. Unfortunately, it's obscured by the clouds, so use your imagination. At this point, the incline got serious. Rindee and I began counting out one hundred steps (and anything that involved one foot even slightly in front of the other counted as a step) and then stopping to breathe. To say that I had difficulty catching my breath is a gross understatement. However, thanks to a Gatorade that I purchased at our rest stop, I got my second wind, and this was my time to be encouraging Rindee. This is also the time when she looked up, saw how much further we had to go, and had her mini breakdown. Luckily, she was able to get it out and get over it as much as I had, and we continued. Not so fortunately, she began to get altitude sickness as we kept climbing. She felt sick to her stomach, she had a headache, got ghostly pale and overall just did not look well. It was at this point that we both agreed that this was most definitely a once in a lifetime experience.

We made it to the peak, but I think that at that point, with the clouds obscuring any type of view we may have had, we both just wanted to get to our tent and sleep for about a thousand years. Once we reached this pass (called "Dead Woman's Pass") I told the guide, "I never believe that I can't do something. But this - this I don't know if I did it because I could, or because I had no other choice." But after the mini-breakdown, I was pretty calm the entire hike (when I wasn't trying to catch my elusive breath.) Each time I would get frustrated or upset, I just had to stop and look around. I was in one of the most beautiful places on earth. Some people might never see this place in their entire lives! How on earth could I be upset? That calm stayed with me after the pass when we still had about 90 minutes of descent to face. When I saw the trail heading down, I was exhilarated!
We had cleared the pass! How hard could a little descent be. Um...pretty hard, actually. Rindee had surrendered her pack to the guide at this point, and was looking pretty peaked. After she stumbled once, we made her sit and eat a granola bar. I don't think anyone was as happy to arrive at the campsite as Rindee, or as relieved as I was. After a three hour nap, we recovered enough to enjoy the view that evening. It was spectacular to be up that high...

Before we went down for our "pre dinner nap," Rindee had adamantly declared that the following day she would be hiring a porter for her pack. I agreed that would probably be the best decision for her. She urged me to do the same, but I stubbornly said that I could do it on my own. Upon awaking the next morning and hiking to the bathroom which was about 100 yards away and about one level above us, and groaning with every step, I succumbed to Rindee's advise, and we hiked day three sans pack. A completely different experience that I will share next.

Peru Part II - I can't believe we're doing this

My friend Rindee arrived in Lima on the night of my birthday party. She got in late enough that she didn't get to participate in any festivities, but she did get some food and leftover cake. :-)

The next morning she and I were scheduled to fly out to Cuzco to begin our adventure. It was at this point that my vacation ended and my adventure began. Laugh at the picture all you want, but I was a bit stressed. Rindee thought this was hilarious and couldn't help but take a picture. Brat. I kept saying, "I can't believe we're doing this." Rindee wasn't quite as stressed. I blame the fact that I had planned everything and was hoping that it would all go smoothly.
Rindee was just being where she was told to be at the time she was told to be there. She was much more optimistic and excited to be on our way. If I was a person who held grudges (ahem) I would surely still hold this against her. As it is, we went through enough that I can forgive the fact that she got a cute airport picture, and I got an "on the verge of psychosis" airport picture. Not to worry, the pictures got worse.

It turns out that the hike we booked may as well have been named "The Inca Trail for Dummies." All we had to do was get ourselves to Cuzco, and they took care of the rest - from picking us up at the airport when we arrived and taking us to our hostel, to picking us up from our hostel the next morning and getting us on our way.

We spent the majority of the day in Cuzco wandering around the city and acclimating to the elevation.
We had chosen wisely when finding our hostel and were only a couple of blocks away from the main plaza (Plaza de Armas.) We walked at a leisurely pace and avoided big hills or stairs, but I still had a tougher time with the altitude than Rindee did. We both felt short of breath, but I definitely had a headache that I could not shake. I also did not sleep well that night - a symptom of altitude sickness because your body isn't getting as much oxygen as it's used to and basically freaks out and wakes you up to avoid death.

Okay, that was overly dramatic. I wasn't close to death. But I was definitely not feeling normal.
Nevertheless, we both felt normal enough to find the main market where we purchased some apples and bread for breakfast the next morning, and each bought a serving of freshly made juice. I say "serving" and not "glass" because if you want it "to go" you get to take it in a plastic baggie as pictured. (You like my jacket? Really? Good. You'll be seeing a lot of it.)

The next morning, we were picked up at 6:45am. After a stop on the way to purchase last minute items (walking sticks and a poncho for Emily) we arrived at 82km and the official start of the Inca Trail. I estimate the number of time that I said, "I can't believe we're doing this" upwards of 500. Seriously. We were so excited to get started. I remember our guide coming around and checking out our packs. When he picked mine up, he sort of grimaced. "Is it heavy?" I asked, "mas or menos" he answered with a grin. His grin became familiar over the course of the hike. I eventually learned that it always meant he wasn't telling me something. At that point, I decided to disregard the implication. The average pack weighs between 6-8 kgs. My pack was 12.5lbs when weighed in the States, so I figured that was right where I needed to be. Later, I could only wonder what on EARTH possessed me to think I could handle myself and a 12lb pack. Ugh.

These first few pictures crack me up. Our smiles are so happy.
We started taking pictures immediately. The views were awesome, if a little cloudy. I was completely content. I remember telling Rindee that I really hoped that I wasn't the slowest person in our group.
I mean, there HAD to be at least one person slower than me, right? The second picture here was taken as an "action shot." It was pretty much my view for the entire hike.

Hey! I have short legs!

Besides, our guide stated at the beginning that he always stayed at the back - behind the last person. Theoretically, this was to ensure that everyone made it okay. Realistically, it just meant that the guide, Diego, and I became pretty good buddies.

Okay - more later. Emily's tired. Must sleep.

Peru Part I - Lima

Going on an international trip at the beginning of a new school semester, or anytime during a school semester, probably isn't the brightest idea. But boy let me tell you how good it felt to have 10 entire days of no responsibilities. No housework, no homework (didn't take it with me. no sir.), no dogs, no cooking....

That's what my grandmother's house is like to me. It's a true vacation. I really envy those of you who have extended family living so close to you. It truly is a blessing that I think many take for granted. I mean, if my grandmother lived within two or three hours from me, I would see her every holiday. And yet, I know people whose grandmothers live in the next town over and they hardly ever see them. I literally can't fathom this. If you're one of these people, pick up the phone and call your grandmother this instant. Talk to her for a while, and then arrange to have dinner or something. Seriously. I insist. I see my grandmother once every three or four years! Do it for me.

Walking into my grandmother's house is like walking into a hug. It's pure unconditional love. It doesn't matter what I've accomplished with my life so far, it doesn't matter how much weight I've gained, or whether or not I've fixed my hair, or if I'm in the grumpiest mood ever... I'm a grandchild and I am loved. It doesn't have to be earned, it is just given. And it elicits from me the deepest love, loyalty, and commitment that I've ever felt for someone about whom I know so little. In my grandmother's house I am "Princesa Preciosa" and she reminds me every chance she gets. In return, every time I see her I have to kiss her or hug her or let her know how much I return that love any way I can. It's that love that's given that makes me seek her out every evening to say good night before I go to bed, and makes me say good morning to her every morning before anyone else. It almost makes me feel like I'm not worthy of being loved that much.

My grandmother is 95 and my grandfather is 93. (I know, I'm going to live forever, right?) My grandmother still gets up at 8:00am every morning and cooks lunch HERSELF for everyone in the household. She has a woman who helps her in the kitchen, but the helper is assigned menial tasks like cleaning the lettuce, or peeling the potatoes. My grandmother cooks the entire lunch, and despite my repeated inquiries, there is absolutely nothing I can do to help.

How hard was THAT?! In the US, I am a single independent woman. I am involved in every single detail required to run my household. In Peru I am useless. I have no responsibilities, and can only sit and watch my 93 year old grandmother do stuff for me. I can't even take my dishes to the sink from the table without her getting upset.

So Lima was a time for me to do nothing. Time for me to fill my hours with random walks with my mother, to knit, to sit and enjoy the 77 degree weather and nice breeze. A true vacation.

While on this vacation, I took some time to look around and see things through a stranger's eyes. In Peru, man do they keep everything. For YEARS. I can't tell you how funny it was to see my uncle's entertainment center. A brand new DVD player sitting on top of a TV that has only 13 channels. And why not? Was the TV broken? No. It still worked fine. Why upgrade and waste the money?

And this? This is my uncle with his car. His car is a 1965 Plymouth Fury.
(Stephen King fans? Anyone? It's not the right year, but...) Um, his car is older (significantly older) than I am. And why not? It still runs fine. If something breaks, it can still be fixed for less than the cost of a new car. And so the car still lives. I am astounded each time I go to Peru that the car still runs. When I look under the hood I am more astounded. This time I did notice that he had fixed the overheating problem that made the floor underneath your feet really really hot when you were in the front seat. I'm not kidding.

My aunt Pilar was given a labrador puppy a year or so ago. Since she works all day long, the puppy was immediately brought to my grandmother's
house for companionship. His name is Rocky (pronounced with a Spanish accent "Roky.") Rocky lives the life, man. Apparently when he was a puppy puppy, my grandmother would feed him out of her hand. Now he gets an interesting mix of food that consists of part dog food, part whatever we ate that day for lunch. Rocky has it good. Turns out that Rocky is not bilingual, though. He can "sientate" but just looks at you and wags his tail if you say "sit."

Saturday night before I left for Cuzco and the adventure that is part II, my family threw me a birthday party at my aunt's house. I was the youngest person present by about, oh, twenty years, but MAN do those Peruvian men know how to dance. There was alcohol, there were hors dourves, there was live music (including, but not limited to when my mother took the microphone.) My birthday cake looked awesome. The designs on top were made of sugar and white chocolate and edible (though I didn't eat them.)
Silly Emily wore high (HIGH) heels and got a blister the size of Mars on her little toe. It was so big I almost named it. A blister that had to be popped and "medicated" so that she could put her hiking boots on the next day. That blister was a little problem on the next part of the adventure, but nowhere near the biggest issue I faced. I'll post that up next.

Sorry about the lack of grand vistas and great photos in this post. This is the beginning of the story and it needs to be told. The mountainous pics are coming. Promise.

Home again, home again, jiggity jig

After leaving Lima Peru at 12:35am, I got home this afternoon at around 2:30pm. Both bags arrived with me, and the trip was as smooth as one can hope for an international flight.

There is NO WAY I can post about this trip yet. I have a chem test on Tuesday, PLUS a post Chem lab write up, an entire different Chem lab, and a pre-lab write up due immediately after my test. I'm assuming that it wasn't very smart to leave all schoolwork at home, but then again, I was on vacation.

Look for updates on Friday. Highlights? Um, my family threw me one hell of a 30th birthday party complete with live music, merengue and salsa dancing, and a DVD to record the entire thing. I took advice from Tyra Banks (thank you ANTM.) I learned that camping sometimes means you poop into a hole in the ground. Climbing up to 4200 meters is the most physically challenging thing I've ever done in my life.

Oh yes, and the world got it absolutely right when they voted Machu Picchu one of the new seven wonders of the world. If that picture wasn't enough to convince you, here's one of my own from a very untalented point and shoot photographer. The site couldn't have been more beautiful.

Oh hell, and here's one of me with a llama. Just for fun :-)

Surprise

So, my boss started the birthday celebration. At least my desk looks festive now :-)

Blog Posts from the Edge

I've never been on the edge of a nervous breakdown before. The view is nice from here. People treat you with a sort of careful friendliness. Everyone should try it.

The short story is that I am Stressed. Out.

The long story includes classes and homework and planning ahead and this plane that is scheduled to take me to Peru at 8:30am on January 16th, which leaves me not quite enough time to get everything done...which means something's gotta give, and I'm terrified that it's my packing which would mean that I'll show up in Peru with underwear and a toothbrush and nothing else.

I know, I know. How can I find time to post when I've got fifty billion other things to do? Simple - I need a break to hang on to the frayed edges of my sanity.

The boyfriend left yesterday for his company's national sales meeting. (this means that it's just me and the dogs....which means that my lunch hours are now "dog walking hours"...class ensures that I don't get home in the evenings for their walks otherwise...sheesh!!) His flight was at 11:15am. I had to be at work at 7:00am in order to leave for class at 4:00pm. Even though I happen to think the Indianapolis International Airport is a happenin' place to be, the boyfriend opted NOT to get there five hours early, but instead to take a taxi to the airport at 9:00am. Which lead to the following phone call at 9:20am.

"Emily? I need you to come pick me up and take me to the airport."
"I can't! I'm at work. I need my lunch hour to go home and walk the dogs."
"My taxi just got into a wreck."
"WHAT?!"
"Yeah. He got hit by a maintenance truck when pulling out of our complex. We're okay, but the driver can't open his door. He can't take me. He said another taxi would take a while to get here."

At this point I had a mini breakdown while I calculated that I could just get to my complex by 9:50am, and then to the airport by 10:20am...he could still make his flight. My very understanding boss let me go (I think he recognized the signs of an impending breakdown) and the boyfriend was at the airport by 10:20 and on his flight by 10:45. Whew.

I mean, who does this stuff happen to?

I did get out of Biology lab early last night, so I guess I should count my blessings. That extra time allowed me to stop at Target for last minute travel items and finish up my Chemistry lab homework while still getting to bed before midnight. The dogs all got rawhide chews so they would keep still. Call me crazy, but I think they like it when I'm stressed.... Lots of treats. Anything to make mommy feel less guilty for ignoring them in favor of Chemistry labs.

Tonight I have to leave work at 4:00 to take a Chem quiz early that I would otherwise miss. Then I have Chemistry lecture at 6:00 and lab immediately following. I should get home around 11:00pm. Then I have to pack. I can't forget to take my Chemistry lab manual with me, as well as my notes on Chapter 13 because I have a test and a lab due on Tuesday the 29th. (I get home at noon on the 27th.)

What about Biology? Well, right now I'm treating Biology like the bastard child and ignoring it. I have no choice. That test isn't until February 6th, so I'll worry about it when I get home.

I've gotten to the point where I can say these things matter-of-factly. I look at the amount of crap that I have to get done in the next 24 hours, and the amount of crap I have to prepare for when I get home, and I wonder why exactly I thought it would be a good time to take an international trip?

Oh yes. I'm turning 30. That's right.

I should be old enough to know better.

Time is on your side...

I have this old grey sweatshirt that I filched from my ex. I joke that it's the only good thing I got out of the relationship. At least, that's what I used to joke. It's a men's extra large, so it's pretty big on me, but otherwise it's just your standard issue dark grey zip up hoodie from Old Navy. I wear it when I don't feel like dressing up, or I'm really cold, or I'm sick... you get the picture. It's even my "Laney armor" as you can see.

After all these years, it's pretty worn. It's soft, the cuffs are frayed, and there are random holes in the arms from where I would wear the sweatshirt to play with the dogs. The boyfriend comments about the holes and tells me what a shame it is because it was such a good sweatshirt. But what I think is that at this point it's pretty much the perfect sweatshirt. More importantly, after all this time, it's lost all association with my ex. It's really just a great sweatshirt.

The point of that story is that all things fade with time. Even the worst moments in our lives, the breakups that feel like they're going to tear us in half, the deaths of loved ones, the realization that things aren't going to work out the way we planned - we have an amazing coping mechanism built into our psyche. That coping mechanism is time. "This too, shall pass," was said for a reason. We will always be able to carry on, even if we don't really feel like it at the time.

And yet, I went to my first biology recitation of the semester and met (through the class introductions) a man who is an AP Chemistry teacher. Since I am taking chemistry this semester as well as biology (and since I do not have a shy bone in my body) I decided it would behoove me to get to know this person. So I sat down next to him, offered my hand and said, "Hello. My name is Emily. I'm taking chemistry this semester. Nice to meet you."

He laughed and said, "Hello. My name is Ben."

Now, if you didn't know me, you probably wouldn't have noticed the slight hiccup in my speech when I responded with a smile and "I'm sure I'll be asking you a lot of questions this semester." The conversation continued smoothly from there. But I noticed, and it made me so angry. What it meant to me was that even with all this time and even with all my effort to put that whole relationship behind me, little pieces remain, and those pieces are always going to be there. What it symbolized was that I couldn't control everything, and that the best I could do was never spare a thought for what had happened, but freeze up slightly when I encounter someone who happens to have the same name as a guy whose actions brought me to my knees. And I don't want to think that any part of him, even his name, has any power left over me whatsoever.

It was a humbling experience, and it passed in a couple of seconds, but it left me thinking.

I don't think it's that I'm not over my ex. I don't even think it's that I have any residual regrets or feelings about how it ended. I've made my peace with my past. I think that what it means is that I will always remember what happened, and for the longest time I was trying to forget. But the past shapes you and makes you who you are, right? I'm all that much stronger for what I went through, and my life is on an entirely different path because of it. It was a good thing, and even if just for that fact alone, I need to remember it. If those memories are stirred up by a name, well, I should consider myself lucky. It could be so much worse.

Besides, I got one hell of a great sweatshirt out of the deal, right? There's always a bright side - even if it takes you years to see it.

School Days

So, I'm getting old. It snuck up on me, and I don't always feel it....but I can tell my age in several ways including, but not limited to; the fact that my knee was injured two years ago, and I can still feel the pain when it rains. My back is constantly sore when I workout without a good stretch first. I NEED my seven hours of sleep or I just can't function. I say things like, "I just don't understand young kids." And when I get messages from my chemistry professor telling me that snow might cause our final to be postponed (as happened this past semester) I get angry.

I wasn't ecstatic at the thought of my final being postponed...I was irritated because I had been expecting to take my final on Saturday, December 15th at 10:30am for weeks. Moving it would screw up the rest of my holiday planning (that was supposed to happen AFTER the stress of the final had passed.)

I remember being a student in college and PRAYING for snow to cancel class, or miraculously, a final. What the heck happened to me?

Since I finished my first (three credit hour) class back in school (with an A!! Go me!!! :-) in what I considered the semester to "dip my toes back in the college lifestyle," I thought it surely wouldn't hurt to take a few more credit hours this semester.

So I'm now enrolled in 10. Sadist. I know.

I have Biology and Chemistry this semester. Both with labs. I probably won't be seeing any of you until May. When you do see me again, I might be stark raving mad, but at least I'll be 13 credit hours closer to applying to a school of veterinary medicine.

Now my evenings on campus include not only one class, but walking between classes, sometimes heading to the library to study (there is no studying in the chaos that is my apartment...) Another way I know that I'm old is when I'm hurrying through the cold to my next class and I get that "Hey Baby!" look from a guy. My first thought isn't, "How YOU doin'?" as it might have been in the past. It's now, "Please. I could be your mother. Would you check her out?"

That's not technically true, but it sure feels like it.

My Biology lecture is in a lecture hall designed to hold approximately 190 people. There are 220 people enrolled. Due to work, I get to class RIGHT when it's beginning. I am ALWAYS one of the lucky few sitting on the floor. Do you know what this does to a thirty year old back? Seriously? When you're simultaneously trying to take notes, and you can't sit against the back wall because you're too short to see anything from that vantage point? And yet, there are 18-year-olds in seats who are falling asleep during lecture. What, they're taking a seat for fun? Just skip for God's sake! Aren't you supposed to respect your elders? (Nevermind that I slept through class on a regular basis. I actually slept through much much smaller classes....)

Oh yes, and my first stint in college was at a private university. I am now enrolled at a public university. Let me tell you something, I was DUMB when I enrolled in a private university. In fact, I think I need to go home and apologize profusely to my parents who so generously funded my overpriced education. How do the two differ? Oh let me count the ways.

My chem class this semester is a continuation of the chem class I took last semester. I can use the same book that I purchased last semester. No joke. This NEVER happened when I was enrolled as an undergrad. I don't care if I was in Accounting 101 in the fall and Accounting 102 in the Spring. Two entirely different books. When I found out that I didn't have to buy a book for chem this semester, I almost wept for joy. (Apparently there are also major differences when your parents are funding your education and when you're funding it on your own.)

I have been in three classes now, and in each one they make mention of how much you're paying for your education and why you should attend class to make your dollar worth it. (I'm not saying this logic would have worked on my 18-year-old mind the way it works on my 29-year-old mind, but still...it's nice to point it out.) Additionally, in EACH CLASS they put a note in there that if your education is costing you nothing, you should thank your mom and dad. Hmmm....I don't think tuition dollars were ever discussed at my overpriced alma mater. If they were, the idea of thanking your parents for financial assistance? Absurd. I think it was expected.

There is no Starbucks on campus. I honestly don't know how these public school kids survive.

Don't get me wrong - the education I received from my alma mater was a good one. At least I think it was. I don't remember what classes I had to take to get a marketing degree actually.... I just know they didn't include any sciences at all.... or anything that I really use today.... hmmmm.

I digress. My education really was a good one. I studied abroad, (which cost less than remaining in the States...why didn't I realize that then?!) and all the classes that I took abroad counted for college credit (though the work I did on them was negligible.) I had great (I mean awesome psych classes. All of my classes were always small (even the intro ones)...it was a good college experience. But was it three times better than what I'm getting now. Um...I'm going to have to go with no.

Last night I went directly from my class (which ended at 8:20pm) to the library to get some homework done. I left the library at 9:30pm. Would I have EVER done that as an undergrad? (Hint: the answer is absolutely not.) I was the girl who put off her semester long project until the day before it was due and just worked on it for 24 hours straight. Back then I would justify myself by saying that I put in as much time as anyone else, I just didn't spread it out evenly throughout the semester. Now I can admit that I was just lazy and dumb. Now I study because I can't honestly think of another stretch of free time when I'll be ABLE to study - and because I've learned that those easy points (like attendance, in class quizzes, online homework, etc.) those points are the ones that make the difference in your grade. You know. If your test scores don't fall exactly where you want them to...

So I'm usually thinking, as I wander on campus, if the differences that I'm noticing in this school experience in contrast to the last one aren't really differences, just the same things from a different vantage point?

Then I get checked out by another teenager and decide that this experience is completely different. (The girls who attended my alma mater will have to agree with me here. With the guy/girl ratio at our university, the chances of getting checked out were slim to none... Why didn't we visit the public university down the road, ladies? Not only are these guys looking, they're probably going to be DOCTORS!!! How dumb were we?)

Do me a favor and send your kids to a public university. Just make sure it has a Starbucks on campus.

Vertically Challenged

Those of you who know me know that I am, ahem, of a stature that is on the shorter end of the scale. My favorite fun fact about me is that I was born at 22 inches long, and am currently at a whopping 60 inches tall. I've basically grown three feet and two inches in 30 years.

Awesome.

It was actually less time than that. My report cards show that I did have a growth spurt in the fifth grade when I hit 60 inches, and I haven't grown since. (unless you count horizontal growth. Boo! BTW - do you remember when report cards tracked all that stuff?? Man, I'm old.) I was actually tall for a while. Too bad I can't remember it.

I generally don't notice that I'm short. I mean, I've been short my whole life so it's not like my perspective on the world has changed or anything. I can't even distinguish between different heights. When everyone is taller than you are, it's hard to tell if they're 5'7" or 6'0". (Of course, when they're really tall, I can usually tell that. Think basketball player height. When my neck starts to hurt from looking them in the eye, I usually figure they're taller than normal...)

The first time the boyfriend kissed me (after his last model-esque 5'7" girlfriend) he laughed. He said it definitely took some getting used to. Not that he's all that tall himself...

But when I can look someone in the eye, it's a weird enough feeling that I always know they're short. It doesn't happen often... When I see someone short (my height) I just can't believe that's how short I am. I always ask the boyfriend, "I'm not that short, am I?" The answer is inevitably yes. When I see someone else around my height, and see how short they are compared to everyone else, I literally can't believe that's how I look in a crowd. I mean, I don't FEEL that short.... I have delusions of height apparently.

Not only that, but since I have no concept of height, the only way I can figure out what's really deep, or really high is in units of me. I wish I were kidding. My family went to French Lick for New Years. There is a hallway with an over hang on the right that is about five feet high. I could walk underneath it with my head brushing the top. But looking at it, I couldn't believe that it was "one of me high." I seriously had that thought. Yes, I'm almost 30.

Isn't this a girl thing? Aren't girls supposed to be worse with spatial relationships? I certainly am.

A further example...today I heard on the Weather Channel (yes, I watch the Weather Channel in the mornings before SportsCenter) that Mt. Ranier has gotten 322 inches of snow already this year. My first thought was,

"Wow. That's almost 6 of me. That's really really deep!"