This Is Why Sheep And I Are Not Friends

One of the best things that comes from traveling is the stories. I am talking about the really awesome stories you get to tell later to all your friends and family of your adventures and fun times. In my world, these stories tend to be pretty outrageous. I have this tendency for the absurd to follow me wherever I go. When I get back from a trip, you won’t hear the story about visiting a museum and then eating gelato afterwards (which, is a good story but that’s just too vanilla for me). I have this amazing weirdo magnet which includes attracting really off the wall situations (like the time I broke my tailbone while riding a bike in Central Park ----- hours before my flight to Paris).

I was going through old photos and found one I took while I studied abroad in Ireland and it made me laugh so hard. Not because of what was in the photo – but because of the story behind it. Before my classes started, I traveled the west coast of Ireland up to Northern Ireland and then back down to Dublin. I was in a large van/bus of about 20 people and I was the only American on the bus. Most everyone else was a mix of Australian, Canadian, and French. George W. Bush was President, which meant by being the only American I was the butt of quite a few of the group’s political jokes.

The photo that inspired this post (2003)

Most of the tour was spent with me keeping my head in a book, listening to music, and attempting to befriend the other solo female traveler, who was very shy. Otherwise, the other travelers enjoyed the game of:

Them: Hey – American girl. What do you call fringe?

Me: Bangs

Them: HAHAHAHAHHAHA. What do you call thongs?

Me: Flip Flops. We call certain underwear thongs.

Them: HAHAHAHAHHAHA

(shampoo, rinse, repeat)

Needless to say, I stuck my face as far into my book as possible to try and become invisible.

Eventually our bus made one of its usual random stops and the driver announced to everyone “Alright! Up this hill is Queen Maeve’s grave and you guys can go climb up to see it”. He then went into the story behind Queen Maeve and explained how she was a warrior queen who ruled for over 60 years and was buried up this hill in a vertical position so she could face her enemies.

After he finished his story, I looked out the window into a very dreary, cold, wet, and foggy day (typical Irish weather), saw that this hill looked more like a mountain to my unathletic eye, and it was covered in craggy rocks and grass with no really clear trail. I was having my doubts about whether or not this was real or if it was his attempt to make tourists climb haphazardly on a hill so he could be entertained. I hunkered down in my seat deciding this athletic endeavor was not my cup of tea but then was practically dragged out my seat by some of the other travelers and convinced to join them.

What I wanted to do instead of climb a "hill" (2003)

I zipped up my raincoat, tucked the umbrella in my pocket, and then set off following the herd. It wasn’t long before I was left behind, slipping, getting stuck in mud, and flailing about hoping not to fall on my head. It was hot in my raincoat but too cold to take it off and I kept thinking “I should just turn around and go back. This sucks”. Out loud, I was cursing up a storm the local Irish would have been very proud of.

I finally made up my mind it was time to quit (or maybe my inability to get enough oxygen into my brain because I couldn’t catch my breath convinced me) when I got my shoe stuck in mud, yanked it out, lost my balance, and then fell forward onto the ground. I landed with a loud splat but had managed to hold myself off the ground so only my hands and knees were covered in mud. Or what I thought was mud. After processing through the searing pain in my hands and knees, I looked down to realize I had BOTH of my hands almost wrist deep in sheep poop. Yup, I found myself a pile of sheep poop to land in on a giant hill. I sat down on the grass and tried to wipe as much of the poop off my hands as I could using the grass and rocks but the smell, oh the smell, wouldn’t go away.

With even more angry curse words and some unforgivable phrases muttered to the Irish saints, I trucked back down the way I came but at a painfully slow pace to avoid falling again. I made it to the bus to find the driver had no paper towels and no hand sanitizer. He wouldn’t pull my suitcase from under the bus because it would mean unloading everyone’s. He wouldn’t let me on the bus until the others showed up and we could see if they had towels. Everyone got back eventually, word spread I had fallen in poop, and the solution was to pour a bottle of water on my hands and then to tie plastic bags on them. I then sat on the bus for 1.5 hours until we could stop and I could wash them.

How I prefer my sheep - at a distance (2003)

Needless to say, I was not a fan of the Irish sheep at that moment. Great news is, I got it all cleaned off eventually and for some reason my embarrassment broke the ice between me and the shy female traveler I had been trying to befriend, which made the rest of the trip quite enjoyable. I am also happy to report that although I did run into quite a few more sheep on my trip (they are big fans of hanging out in the road and blocking traffic) I managed to not run afoul of their poop.

You take your wins wherever you can get them.

I hope you enjoyed this story and the old photos to go with it.

Excuse Me, Your Nerd Is Showing

Have you ever had a secret you wanted to share but knew if you did, people would judge you? A part of you that felt a magnetic pull towards something and you just spent a lot of energy digging your feet into the ground, clawing at the dirt in the hopes of not finally get sucked into its vortex? Yeah, I spent many years doing that. I feigned being too cool and above it all and yet deep down inside there was a part of me that was 100%, dyed in the cloth, there’s no denying it Nerd (with a capital N).

In school, I did not shy away from working as hard possible to excel in every way. I refused to dumb myself down in order to be cool or have boys like me. I went to my AP and Honors classes to make the best grades and graduated high school with a bunch of college credit under my belt. I had great social skills and was really good at being able to make friends with pretty much anyone. Well, except for when people pointed out I constantly used words they didn’t understand (I have always had a huge vocabulary due to reading). Then I would try to speak more……normal? FYI – this still happens.

 Hogwarts Express - Harry Potter World, Universal Studios

It wasn’t the book smarts I hid but my inclination to be interested in things many of my peers made fun of.  I pretended I didn’t like them either because I knew, deep down inside, once I embraced my true nerd nature there would be no turning back.

You know the fantastic news? As you get older, you don’t give a crap anymore and start doing the stuff you really want to do. Now I have no issue admitting I love awesomely geek culture. Websites, Facebook, Tumblr’s, Pinterest boards – I follow whatever is going to share info and inside jokes of the multiple nerd topics I love.

You probably realized all this about me already. I feel like hearing I like nerdy things is no true surprise here as I’ve touched on some of my fave subjects before but today I am going full tilt. I am laying it all out on the table and it’s kinda nerve wracking, ya know? I’ve spent so many years quietly enjoying whatever I want and not really telling too many people. 

Three Broomsticks - Harry Potter World, Universal Studios

COMICS

I have (secretly) read comics almost all my life. I read Asterix and Obelix (a comic from France) as a kid while living in the Middle East and collected as many of the books as I could but then never saw them again when we moved to the U.S. Then I visited London, found them in a comic shop, and was back at it. With the digital era, I’ve gone full tilt into reading all sorts of comics. It’s a favorite pastime for the inspiring art and fun storylines. Marvel Unlimited, Comixology, trade paperbacks – yup. All of them. According to the guy at the local comic store (after I inquired if they had several comics I wanted to read and they didn’t) I tend to read “girl comics”. Whatever that means. If it means rockstar, then yes I read rockstar comics.

TV

My dad watched a lot of science fiction shows and I didn’t have a TV in my bedroom, so I watched them too. Star Trek: The Next Generation, Babylon 5, Xena, Stargate, Doctor Who (the 80s episodes) and more. I have no doubt it influenced my affinity today for pretty much any show (or movie) that involves fantasy, superheroes, make believe, science fiction, unicorns, and general awesomeness. Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Firefly, Arrow, Supernatural, Once Upon a Time - and the list goes on and on.

Ollivander's Wands  - Harry Potter World, Universal Studios

BOOKS

Young adult paranormal and fantasy books are my Achilles heel. I have long left the idea I have to force myself to read novels that are usually on those “Top 600 Cultured Books To Read Before You Die” lists (thank you public education for making me read many of them and not want to read them ever again). Do I want to slog through a book just because the book critics say it’s what adults do? NOPE. Give me my Harry Potter, Hunger Games, The Giver, Wrinkle In Time, and whatever else escapist books that make me feel like magic is real, tangible, and if I look closely enough there are fairies hiding in the bushes at night.

MOVIES

Well, we all know majority of the best movies are based on wonderful comics and books, right? Yes, I do own every Marvel movie. Yes, I do have all of the Lord of the Rings movies. Do I own multiple versions of the Harry Potter films? Ummmm – hell yes. Did my husband give me the iTunes release of all 6 Star Wars movies? Yup, cuz he’s amazing. Are the books better than the movies? Most of the time it’s a definite yes except for Lord of the Rings. Those books were a total snooooozefest for me (cue the internet rage and rotten tomatoes thrown my way). In other words, stick some imaginary creature, superhero, or trip into space into the plot and I am pre-buying my ticket while figuring out my popcorn/candy/soda combo (very important).

Potage's Cauldron Shop - Harry Potter World, Universal Studios

For all my nerd affinity, there are huge pop culture things I haven’t gotten into (ya know, day job, photography business, and marriage kind of take up some of my time) and it usually shocks the hell out of people who know me that I haven’t seen Game of Thrones, Walking Dead, or the latest seasons of Dr. Who, played video games since Nintendo, gone to a comic convention, or read the His Dark Materials trilogy. I’ll get around to them at some point (maybe not the video games).

So there you have it. All laid out in one space to either make you laugh (with me), cry (in happiness), or run away (to go find other things to recommend to me). It's on the internet, loud and proud, so next time someone says “Man, you are such a nerd” I can respond “Yup and let me recommend something awesome for you. I promise, it will blow your mind.....”

If you love this, it would make my heart so happy if you shared it. Pass it along to anyone else you think would enjoy reading it too using the share button below.

Why I Love My Tiny Little Beach Town

Satellite Beach, Florida

“Oh man, I had to play dodge the surfer this morning.” Yes, this was an actual statement I made recently. I was chatting with my boss about my drive into work that morning and there was a hurricane off the coast which was causing predicted “epic waves” for a record number of days. As a result, the surfers (and those who hadn't broken out their boards in years), were flocking to the beach in my town in droves. It was considered so normal when a converted school bus full of surfers parked in the grocery store parking lot for the weekend and was a campsite for the big group of surfing out of towners, no one blinked an eye.

It's moments like these where I realize exactly how unique where I live really is. There is an entire culture built around the ocean and the rivers surrounding our barrier island and it permeates everything from the clothes, the restaurants, the language, and what's considered normal (like watching surfers run barefoot across the road with their boards in hand every day). It really gets into your soul. You can't help it when your drive to work every day is parallel to the ocean on one side and a river on the other, driving up a tiny strip of land where sometimes I can see both the ocean and the river at the same time.

I don't say these things to brag. I honestly tell you this is my normal and I know that the day I forget to appreciate it is the day I need to get a solid slap upside the head (with ensuing stars circling around my face like a cartoon).

Satellite Beach, Florida

I moved here when I was 10 years old and it was a very interesting transition for me (I had lived most of my childhood in the Middle East and missed the 80’s in the U.S.). When I arrived, everyone was rocking their corduroy Billabong jackets, Reef flip flops, looooong beach hair (both girls and guys), bathing suits underneath their school clothes, and saying things like “dude”, “awesome”, and “totally”. Now, I am an auburn haired, see through pale, freckled, not a size 0 in shorts (so I couldn't shop at the surf stores), allergic to pretty much all seafood, and generally not a fan of the sun kind of gal so I naturally spent the next 8 years of my life trying to be a beach bunny like my friends. All I achieved was a healthy fear of sun burns, an inability to retain a tan, and I surfed once (on a longboard the size of a Cadillac) where I did successfully stand up but it didn't convince me to try again (did you know the best surfing is super obnoxiously early in the morning? Uh, no thanks).

Needless to say, when I left my tiny beachside town for college I was off and running to a place that actually had seasons. I came home sparingly for the next 6 years until circumstances outside of my control forced me to move back here. 

Satellite Beach, Florida

At first when I moved back, all I did was plan on when I was leaving again. It felt like too small of a town and my reasons I felt like an outsider in high school were still there. Then I realized the problem wasn't the beachside town – it was me. Every time I went on a trip elsewhere, I realized how much I missed home. I missed the water everywhere, surfer influenced restaurants, the ocean noise in the late evenings, people deciding if it’s worth it to go somewhere if it means going over the causeway to “the mainland”, random surfer magazines at the entrances of local establishments, the laid back attitudes, and even the tourists (a little bit). When I came back into town and got to drive on the causeway connecting the mainland to my barrier island that crossed over the rivers while facing the ocean, I'd realize I was taking a deep meditative breath and relaxing knowing I had arrived……home.

I've embraced the community now and enjoy it on my own terms because when I looked around I realized that was exactly what everyone else was doing. Despite stereotypes, you don't have to be a beach bunny or surfer boy to enjoy living here. It just took me entering my 30s to finally realize the obvious. I typically go to the beach at sunrise or sunset (avoiding the sunburn times of the day), tried kayaking for the first time recently on a nighttime bioluminescent tour (it was fantastic and magical and I had the most amazingly patient friend who taught me how to paddle), enjoy watching the surfers, and accepted that my Flintstone feet are not going to fit into the dainty thin strapped Reef flip flops and instead rock the wide straps (they aren’t flattering but have lasted me 10 years and are SO comfortable).

Satellite Beach, Florida

Now, don’t get me wrong. There are negatives. It’s hot. Like really hot. There are mosquitoes everywhere, a tendency for alligators wherever there is deep enough standing water, no seasons (we Floridians celebrate when it gets below 80 and some even break out their winter coats from the 80s when it gets below 75), and sometimes I do wish I wasn’t in a small town where it’s almost guaranteed you will see someone you know from high school right after leaving the gym with no makeup, disgusting hair, and an insanely unflattering gym kit on.

Those negatives are minimal compared to the positives. I see dolphins and manatees multiple times a week on my drive to work. I can see the ocean now from the back deck of my house. If I want to visit the beach, it’s not a huge production and all I have to do is walk across a 4 lane road and stop by for a few. My friends from New England pointed out how lucky we are to have so many public beach accesses and I realized how right they were. I am finally embracing everything this tiny beach town has to offer because I was too narrow minded focusing on what I wasn’t when I was younger to see it for everything it has to offer.

Honestly, it’s pretty magical here. It only took me until I was 34 years old to get my act together and figure it all out. Better late than never, right?

P.S. If you like the beach, I share my walks and other beachside adventures on snapchat. My username is rach.abrahams

Alcatraz Is Not Azkaban And Other Lessons I Learned In California

Lone Cypress - Pebble Beach, California

It’s a pretty common thing (I’d say an average of twice a week) for me to say or do something totally random and my husband to just shake his head and (kindly) say to me “You’re SO weird”. When he does, I always remind him he’s the one who picked me and also that he is stuck with me.

When we recently visited California, I had a tendency to say a lot of really dumb things which then I would pre-empt his response and say “Yeah, I know. I’m weird”.  Admittedly, I wasn’t helping my case. I seriously said some really dumb things.

Let me enlighten you on what I said and my own lessons learned so you can be a savvy California traveler. Sharing is caring and I have no shame. Just don’t judge me, please. Well, at least not too much.

Pebble Beach, California

“Wait, is that a whale? Nope, it's a rock. I need glasses.”

Yup, in my eagerness to try and see a whale while looking at the Pacific Ocean I repeatedly would see things hoping it was a whale but alas, it wasn’t. It was a rock. Lesson Learned: Wear glasses while whale watching.

“Those are the cutest sea otters. Oh, those are sea lions? Whoops.”

There was a definite trend where I didn’t seem to have the capacity to learn the differences between otters vs. sea lions and whales vs. rocks. Lesson Learned: When in doubt, just say things like “Oh my goodness, how cute” and DON’T attempt to identify the animal. Be smooth about it. Attempt casual coolness.

I kept calling Pebble Beach, Pebble CREEK. Repeatedly. To which my husband said "If you call it Pebble Creek one more time, I'm kicking you out of this car."

If you’re not a golf person, you won’t see what the big deal is about this. If you ARE a golf person, I’m sorry. That’s all I can say. Also, it was super gorgeous there even for this (obviously) non-golfer. 

Alcatraz and Golden Gate Bridge - San Francisco, California

On our way to Alcatraz, I said “I am so excited to see Azkaban”. Later, my husband said "Stop calling it Azkaban, weirdo" because I did it 2 more times.

Yup, card carrying Harry Potter fan here. Admittedly I really didn’t mean to call it Azkaban. 3 times. Without realizing it until my husband pointed it out. Completely oblivious. Which makes it very obvious how much my subconscious wishes receiving a letter saying I was selected for Hogwarts was a real thing. Lesson Learned: I never realized how badly I wished Harry Potter was real. There, I said it out loud so everyone will know. No more shame.

“Good lord, those seals smell terrible.” (Phil reminds me they are sea lions). “Dammit, why can't I get this otter, sea lion, seal thing straight?”

Me + nature = not friends. Lesson Learned: Refer back to #2. Be cool. Pretend and just say “Ooh”.

“Oh look, a real live California Pizza Kitchen. I've only seen them in the freezer section.”  

What can I say, this Florida gal has never actually seen a California Pizza Kitchen in real life. I honestly didn’t even know it WAS a restaurant. I just thought it was yet another brand of pizza temptation in the freezer section which calls to me in its siren song “You are tiiirreeed. Coooook meee instead. Piiiizzzaaaaaa is gooooood” every time I pass by. Lesson Learned: CPK is real. The freezer pizzas are pretty delicious. As to whether the real ones in the actual restaurant taste good, I wouldn’t know. We rushed off to somewhere else that day.

These are Sea Lions! Pier 39 - San Francisco, California

“I don't feel like shoveling shit at the elephant show but somebody's gotta do it. Just not me.”

I honest to goodness have absolutely no idea what prompted me to say this. I do remember finding it hilarious at the time I said it and again when I opened my travel log I kept about this trip. I do have some deep thoughts sometimes, I tell ya. Lesson Learned: Keeping travel logs on your phone or in a notebook is awesome. My memory sucks, hence the travel log.

“Whew, smells like a lot of people are taking their ‘medicine’ around here.”

We decided to walk around Venice Beach Boardwalk, see the sites, do some people watching, and even swing by the famous gym. What I wasn’t prepared for was how many vendors would be hawking their “glaucoma medication” in dirty lab coats trying to convince every passerby to stop in and get a prescription for weed. It looked totally legitimate (eyes rolling so hard they nearly fall out of my head). I kept walking through some hardcore “medicinal” areas (or maybe the wind was blowing just right). Lesson Learned: Venice Beach Boardwalk was really not worth the time. The people watching was amazing. The crush of humanity and shop vendors accosting you was not cool. We left within 20 mins.

“We're going to Beverly Hills? Maybe I'll see some Kardashians.”

So, if you haven’t judged me too much so far about being a complete nincompoop sometimes, you’re awesome BUT I do realize after admitting this next thing I may be asking too much. Ok, here goes. I am a big fan of “Keeping Up With The Kardashians” (huuuuuuge exhale). Oh my goodness. I know. I have no idea why. I am not a fan of reality TV (I’ve never seen Survivor, The Bachelor/ette, Big Brother, or Dancing With The Stars) and yet I am completely sucked into their vacuum. Lesson Learned: Maybe it’s because I’m an only child? That’s all I’ve got to explain it.

Pebble Beach, California

Hopefully you can learn from my mistakes and take these lessons learned to travel around California like an expert. Maybe you’ve decided traveling with me deserves an award and my husband is a superstar. I like to think I make the experience more awesome and unusual. Either way, my inability to stop saying dumb things is here for your pleasure/pain. Just call me Captain Generosity.