"The Best Twenty-five of twenty-five," part III

After another late night at work, I'm grateful for this opportunity to assertively focus my attention on positive thoughts, specifically, the most positive things that have happened to me this year.

11. The best decision (possibly ever)

Going to France.

12. Best vacation spot

The South of France.

Is it logical that a place could make me want to have children, just so that I could bring them there and share it with them? In any case, I fully intend to return to the South of France, and the affordable, easy-to-use transit system, vibrant countryside, and warm-spirited people ensure me that, even if I have a family in tow, it would be an ideal travel destination.

13. The best language

French.

14. The best new addition to my culinary repertoire

For some reason, I always assumed that quiche was exceptionally complicated and the method of preparation elusive to my present food-preparatory capabilities. After witnessing it made a few times in the kitchen of the family whose farm I was WWOOFing on, however, I was happy to learn that, with the help of a few eggs, some cream, some good cheese and chopped veggies, and a fresh pie crust, I could whip up the delectable dish and have it out of the oven in less than an hour. If it weren't for the sky-high calorie content, I'd make quiches nearly every day.

15. The best online community

I had heard from several friends who had tried it in the past that CouchSurfing was great, but I never got around to looking into it for myself until right before leaving for France. Though I was, admittedly, a bit concerned over the prospect of staying with complete strangers in their homes--generally, worried more about awkwardness than safety issues--I had nothing but positive experiences with my French hosts. And, since returning to San Diego, each opportunity I've had to welcome CSers into my and my parents' home has been fun, inspiring, and educational. I will never stay in another youth hostel again, if I can help it.

Recent CouchSurfers from Barcelona, Spain

"The Best Twenty-five of twenty-five," part II

Tonight I continue my itemization of the the twenty-five best "bests" of my twenty-fifth year. Beginning with...

6. The best concert

Sufjan Stevens at the Wiltern in Los Angeles, October 23, 2010. It was unequivocally the greatest combined celebration of outer space and dancing I have ever witnessed. My experience was actually incredibly similar to that of my friend, Casey. She saw him perform in Phoenix the night before and shared her thoughts about it on her blog, here

After the concert, I joined several of my friends in enjoying some good eats from a local Korean taco truck. That's right: Korean tacos. You can get anything in L.A.

7. The best wedding

I attended four in the last year. All were good, but Mike and Lindsay's was exceptional. The ceremony, which took place on the cliffs of Point Loma, was simple, picturesque, beautiful. The reception, which took place at our home, was intimate, lively, and one of the best parties I've been to in my life.

8. The best feminine hygiene product

For a considerable time I had been interested in finding a more eco-friendly alternative to tampons and maxi pads. After researching several brands of organic cotton tampons, cloth pads, sea sponges, and menstrual cups, I decided to order the Diva Cup. Excellent decision. Though it's a bit pricey, the fact that it can be reused for over a year indicates that, in the long run, it's a more economical option than disposable menstrual products. As an added bonus, I've noticed a significant decrease in the severity of my menstrual cramps since I switched to the Diva Cup. I'll never go back to tampons, and I would be remiss if I didn't share this revelation with any friends who are looking for a means of dealing with their lady times that is gentler on the environment and, ultimately, on the wallet.

9. The best new skill

Skills Month was a bust, but I still managed to pick up some helpful new knowledge and abilities this year. My favorite by far, however, is my newfound ability to milk a goat. During the week and a half that I spent WWOOFing on a goat farm in France, I went from barely being able to eke out a few drops from the poor goat's utter to filling a whole bucket with frothy milk in ten minutes flat. Though I took great pleasure and satisfaction in several of the tasks I was asked to carry out while on the farm, milking the goats was, without a doubt, my favorite chore.

10. The best Eastern European cuisine

It was so good. Since the evening that I visited Pomegranite Russian-Georgian Restaurant with Mike and Lindsay, I've been dreaming of going back. I've made several attempts at replicating their amazing borscht in my home kitchen, but I've yet to concoct anything remotely as delectable.

"The Best Twenty-five of twenty-five," part I

For this last week of twenty-five, I would like to take some time to highlight some events or discoveries that might not have gotten much--if any--mention on this blog, but nevertheless played a formative or otherwise interesting role my last year of life. Each day, for the next five days, I will highlight five "Best Ofs" from my twenty-fifth year, comprising, altogether, "The Best Twenty-five of twenty-five."

Here goes:

1. The best birthday gift

This is way hard to choose, actually, because I had so many amazing birthday presents last year! Ashley Jones gave me a skirt that I love and the best key cover ever. I got a beautiful sweater and some great books from my sisters. And Josiah, in his usual custom, gave a hand-made greeting card, complete with personalized coupons to be redeemed for special outings and fun activities. In the end, I guess I have to say that Josiah's present would be the best, because there's no greater gift than time.

2. The best (and by "best," I mean worst) near-death experience

I'm not exaggerating. I really could have died. Back in September, when Josiah, Jared, and I took a two-night backpacking trip in the Ansel Adams Wilderness, the weather was less than kind to us. The first morning, it started to drizzle. With hopes of climbing nearby Madera Peak, we eyed the sky hopefully all day, casting furtive glances at the southern horizon, where dark clouds persistently loomed over the mountain tops.

Finally, at mid afternoon, the clouds in the south still showing no immediate intention to move our direction, we decided to just go for it. Armed with water and snacks, we began to scale the steep, granite slope. Once we cleared the tree line, the going became especially difficult, with loose rock shards slipping out from under us as we climbed higher and higher, our gaze remaining cautiously on the clouds in the south, ready to detect the slightest hint of threat.

A clap of thunder sounded so loud and so close you could feel it in the ground. Immediately, we realized our folly: we had been watching the clouds in the south so intently, we had entirely failed to notice the storm advancing on us rapidly from the north! We were absolutely exposed and standing on the side of one of the tallest mountain peaks in the vicinity, nothing but loose granite beneath our feet.

Fully aware that a scraped knee or even a twisted ankle would be preferable to being struck by lightning, we began to descend as quickly as possible, running and sometimes sliding down hillsides of sharp stones. As incautiously as we hurried, however, we were no match for the rolling black clouds, which advanced on us rapidly, releasing terrifying cracks of lightning. I moved as fast as I could, but both Jared and Josiah were far ahead of me. The clouds were finally right overhead. And then I was passing trees and shrubs and, as the rain began to fall, my hiking boots touched soft dirt, and I knew I was probably going to live.

3. The best thing I got in the mail

A letter from a student in Japan.

4. The best job

I genuinely loved working for UPS in December. I never thought it would be possible to love a job and occasionally, specifically on the days that it rained, it could be a little bit miserable. But I loved the feeling of working hard and doing something physically exerting while being outdoors and interacting with lots of different people in a positive setting all day. What was there not to love?

5. The best thing I crocheted

In late 2010 and early 2011, I crocheted several fun little things of which I was quite proud, but my favorite would have to be this guy right here.

He's an iPod sleeve.

Post-twenty-five blogging prospects

It's probably not such a wise idea that I (nearly) always reserve my blogging duties as my final activity of the day. Late in the evening, as I'm preparing to go to bed, my mood is pretty much always the same--tired--and this is almost unwaveringly expressed in the tone of my writing. My writing also just isn't quite as good when my body and mind are totally worn out and ready for sleep.

Happily, the lingering question of whether I will continue to blog after I turn twenty-six is now ready to be answered: Yes, I will continue to blog. But, no, it won't be every day. This blog and the daily discipline of adding something to it have been immensely helpful and I feel as though I've grown and learned quite a bit from the experience. But I'm ready to graduate.

This new blog, scheduled to launch--unintentionally but quite fittingly--on my twenty-sixth birthday, will be a collaborative effort between me and my dear, talented, imaginative, brilliant friend Ashley. Together, we will focus on separate but related weekly assignments, our goal being to post updates every weekend. Perhaps I've already given too much away, but I'm really looking forward to taking some of the unpredictability out of my daily writing and allowing myself the time to plan, reconsider, and revise. And, of course, I'm excited to be working alongside Ashley to receive even greater motivation and inspiration. Alright: I had better not say anything else about it for now. More information will be coming your way soon.

After ten hours of travel...

Today I went to Pasadena to pick up my freshly repaired car. The trip, which by car would normally take about two and a half hours from my parents' house in San Diego, took a round seven hours by public transport. Not that I'm complaining. Well, okay, I'm complaining a little, but, apart from the drastic difference in commuting time, I really do prefer traveling by train to driving. Generally, it's much more relaxing and you occasionally have the opportunity to interact with interesting people. Aboard the trolley in San Diego, I met a friendly woman from Sitka who pretty much convinced me that I belong in Alaska. And I spent the entire trip from San Diego's Santa Fe Station to Los Angeles Union Station absorbed in a book. After disembarking the Gold Line in Pasadena, I enjoyed a pleasant stroll through a pleasant neighborhood and felt a sense of reassurance that, if I do end up attending Fuller, I will definitely enjoy living in that area. But still, with today marking exactly one month until the start of the fall quarter, the question lingers...

Money

I must commend the Amissions and Financial Aid offices at Fuller Theological Seminary for the rapidity with which they have been processing all the forms I have submitted to them in the last week. However, having received my acceptance notification this morning, and with my decision hinged on the amount of scholarship aid I can still be awarded on such short notice, I can't help feeling a bit anxious. I know that my current job pays too little for me to stay. I need to start looking for new employment; but the question is, should I search in San Diego, or around Pasadena?

I need, I need, I need.

Amazingly, I already have everything I need.

There was once a time when I genuinely believed that my highest calling in life was to learn as much as possible, no matter what the cost. Then I graduated from college and a few years went by and, somehow along the way, I started to buy into the notion that my goal should instead be to become debt-free and financially secure. At last, I'm beginning to defect to my former viewpoint. It's exciting.

But, alas: I still need money.

Southbound Train

It’ been such a weird week. And it’s not over yet.

Saturday evening, on the drive up to Azusa, my GTI started displaying a check-engine light and seemed to have gone into some electronically triggered emergency mode, where it would only go into reverse and fourth gear. Assuming it was not conceivable to get my car into a mechanic on Sunday, I resolved to have it looked at by a professional first thing Monday morning. Josiah, whom I had given a ride on my way up to Azusa, needed to be back home in time to go to work Monday morning. So, Jared and I drove Josiah half way home; Josiah’s brother, Micah, drove the other half way to pick him up. Thanking my lucky stars I had just happened to pack an extra pair of underwear, I decided to stay one more night at Jared and Laura’s place.

First thing Monday morning, I took my car to a mechanic in Azusa. Two hours later, he called me back, explaining that the problem was something internal that he was not equipped to handle, and advising that I take it to the dealer. The Volkswagen dealership in Pasadena was crowded and it was estimated that it would be a couple of hours before they could determine the problem. Though I was scheduled to work that evening, I called my manager and explained the situation, and she agreed to find someone to cover my shift.

I stayed at the dealership all day. They ran a diagnostic test on my vehicle, which identified several malfunctions in the electrical system. A new battery was put in, and this cleared up all of the codes except one: a lingering electrical error in the transmission. It wasn’t until several hours later that I at last received a detailed account of exactly what the problem was and which pieces of my transmission needed to be replaced. Parts would have to be ordered, but the repairs could be completed by Wednesday morning.

My dilemma, now, was whether to take the train down to San Diego so that I could work my shift Tuesday night, or simply remain in Azusa with Jared and Laura until Wednesday. With my friends encouraging me to accept their hospitality a little longer, and a sympathetic assistant manager agreeing to find someone to cover my shift for one more night, I decided to stay up in the L.A. area.

This morning, just as I was already reaching for my phone to call the dealership and inquire as to the current situation with my vehicle, I received a call from the service department. Bad news. Volkswagen had sent them the wrong parts. Right order; wrong parts. They best they could do was reorder and have my car ready for me by Friday.

Friday.

Feeling helpless, I saw I had no option but to acquiesce. I hung up the phone, feeling miserable. Then I called them back, and asked whether it would be possible for me to just drive my car down to San Diego and have the repairs done at the dealership down there. No, I was told, That would not be possible. My transmission had already been taken apart to get it ready for the new parts. It had no fluids in it. It was not drivable.

So here I am now, aboard the Amtrak heading for San Diego. We just passed San Juan Capistrano and I now have a refreshing view of blue ocean and white waves crashing on a white beach. Children running. White seagulls. A simple, carefree scene. Friday, or maybe Monday morning, I will take the train back up to Pasadena to retrieve my car and pay massive amounts of money I don’t have for the repairs that have been done on it. I’ll wonder whether I should have just tried to drive it back down to San Diego in the first place and taken it to my mechanic down there. But there’s no point dwelling on what might have been, especially if it’s going to interfere with me enjoying such a nice view of the sea.