Dream BIG

If you could Dream Big, what story would you tell?  No really, create the most amazing, grand, fantastical story and tell it out loud to your friends and family, strangers, enemies…anyone who will listen.   Now make it bigger…crazier…more grandiose.  Now tell me that story will truth, emotion, feeling and belief.  And then watch it happen. 

That'll happen...when pigs fly.  

My Manifest Destiny

I started writing this blog as a text to one of my most motivating Los Angeles friends, Cassandra Morales (see awesome write-up below) and then I thought “why don’t I share my amazing story with everyone?”  I love being inspired by others’ success stories so I thought I would share mine in the hopes of inspiring some of you.

Cassandra in the Los Angeles Business Journal "20 In Their 20s"

A farewell to our beloved Alicia Brown. Venice will miss you!

I’m not a highly emotional person, but when I stopped by my friend Alicia’s going-away party tonight, I got to talking about how I came to know Alicia and what our relationship was.  In my mind, she and I were kind of sort of social friends who never hung out but when I reflected on how we met and how much my life has changed since meeting her I was completely and emotionally touched.  Carrie and Alicia moving out of the Abbot Kinney Apartment pulls at my heartstrings in a way that came as a shock to me.  I met Alicia through our mutual friend but I didn’t really connect with her until several months later.

    

I was looking for a place to live, having just returned from 7 months on the road with a makeup company and Alicia had just decided to pack up her things and backpack through South America. 

A picture I took of Alicia, in "our apartment" the day she left on her journey in 2010.

Alicia introduced me to amazing west side people and opened up her home to me.  Now, I believe you can meet people and have spiritual connections to them but I also believe you can have spiritual connections to places and this is how I felt about the Abbot Kinney apartment.  It was my first time being in the west side culture, with the beach cruisers and the little shops and BBQs on the weekends and sunset rendezvous with everyone stopping what they’re doing to observe the end of the day together.  It was my first taste of neighborhood parties and making new friends, having a “raw, vegan” Thanksgiving, Tom Petty, The Doors, The Canals, the crack heads and the bourgeois hippies. 

The Venice sign, hanging over the street in Winward Circle.

If I was ever lonely or bored I could just hop on my bicycle, ride down to the beach and watch the skaters at the skate park.  I had an amazing roommate whom I called “the mayor of Venice” because she knew everyone or introduced everyone and she brought everyone together.  We went to The Other Room on a constant basis and I even met my “one that got away” one fateful night in that dark dark bar. 

We had LA Story (starring Steve Martin) on a constant loop playing in the house.  I loved that place, it feels like home to me.  I know the smells of the house, its stairs, the broken knob on the dryer.  I am absolutely happy and at home in that apartment.  It was so much of a connection for me that I actually thought Carrie and Alicia would never leave.  I thought things would always stay the same.  After all, this house was the place I ran to for shelter from the storm after Zach broke up with me in the restaurant the night in November 2011.  I cried to the girls and they picked me up and dusted me off and gave me a place to feel safe in total chaos.  I heard Alicia’s stories of heartbreak and frustration and bad timing and I heard Carrie Turner’s beautiful music for the first time at this house.   I learned from Alicia that you can let it all go and it will all be waiting for you when you get back – which was so helpful when it was time for me to go on my own adventure. 

It wasn't even 3 years ago that I was first introduced to this world.  Back then Alicia was probably pining over some guy who made her feel like dirt and now she is rightfully and healthily in love.  Time flies, and it reminds me to take full advantage of every single day because the next thing you know, you're in love an moving to the opposite side of the world.  

Because of Alicia I found Venice and I fell in love with Venice.  When I went to her going-away party today I brought my old roommate Missy with me and it was such a full circle ending to the story.  

With Missy in our kitchen at the Venice Apartment.

The girl who brought us all together is closing the chapter on her days in Venice.  She has found love and she is moving to Australia and I couldn’t be more happy for her.  Thank you for all of your gifts Alicia Brown and thank you for making Venice my home.  You will be missed.

Throwback Thursday: (A day late) "Cobwebs, And One More Thing"

• And one more thing...

  I know this isn't a blog, but read the previous one, and the one before that.  Brent applied the PB to my face, then he licked it off, and I think other people licked it off too...I just can't remember who. I owe that girl a bag of chips ahoy.  I ate the whole fuckin thing.
  9:19 AM

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• Feb 7, 2006

  cob webs!

  Current mood:anxious

  I need to add something and I know I should  put it in my posts, but it must go with the blog.  It may sound like I got some nookie this weekend, but I assure you, the cobwebs remain firmly in place.  I know that doesn't sound much better, but believe me, I got none.
  
  

Throwback Thursday Blog!! "I Give Last Weekend a 9.5"

Note: This blog is particularly insightful and "hil" (hilarious) to me because I'm pretty sure I didn't do anything at all last weekend.  Maybe tea with some friends?  I know Cass and I went on a really amazing walk through Beverly Hills and Rodeo Drive with her dog, Howie.  But besides that I'm pretty sure I just worked. Oh, how times have changed, and for the better!

Finally, LOTS of love to Christine Biondo, she was a key part of my mid-twenties.  And lastly, this Throwback Thursday post reminds me of an old friend I don't communicate with anymore.  I hope she's well.

I give last weekend a 9.5                                                                                                    Feb. 6, 2006

Current mood:drained

I can't believe I'm about to say this, but for all of you who weren't in Springfield this weekend, you missed out.  I had a fabulous weekend with the girls, and a few guys.  Now that I've slept more than 4 hours-thank you Brian, it's difficult to differentiate between Fri. and Sat.  I know Sat. was one BILLION times more fun than Fri, but overall; a great weekend.  Let's recap: Sushi, free sushi, (who did that, Christine?), vanilla vodka and diet coke "vanilla cake," chubby guy dancing on the stage, he meant every move he made, a striking disclosure of a threesome, and I shall NOT name names in order keep my ass from getting kicked, an afterbar so smoky, it made our eyes water, and our throats sore, me SWEARING I'm not going to smoke on Sat., but starting up before we even have dinner, a guy named Bubba who uses his Rolex to unsuccessfully pick up chics, me passing out TWICE, and TL you know I NEVER get to pass out. Finding my top in the living room and my bra in the hallway the next day and realizing that I changed infront of everyone. Peanut butter on my face, Mira sprawled on the ground in front of Icon, that piece of shit door guy Shane, can we put a hit on him?  Grinding with Triptophan, I mean really, I was grinding, and all who really know me, know I do not grind. But it was funny.  Mira being carried "spread eagle style" all the way to the afterbar, and I FINALLY got the nerve to wear my sequin tubetop out, without something over it, and the pinnacle of the night?  Sarah and I deciding it's no big deal to pull down our shirts at the bar and let everyone see our strapless bras because "it's just like a bathing suit." The end.

The Pursuit of Happiness

Coming back from my trip I’ve spent time with several people who were to my surprise, very interested in how my trip was and where I am now.  Most of them have wanted to know the same things: what did I learn?  Did I meet anyone special?  Did I fall in love? And where am I now?

Even though I was gone for only two months, I learned a LOT.  I believe I’m closing in on the last chapters of my personal quest to familiarize myself with the art of patience (my least virtuous trait).  I can’t say I’ve “mastered” patience because that would make me some sort of reincarnated Monk on my way to Enlightenment.  Not there yet.

In Chiang Mai, Thailand, singing "Earl" with Lara and Candida.

Throwback Thursday: London or Bust!

This is the very first blog I have on record, dated Feb. 2, 2006.  I had just bought a ticket to visit my best friend Lindsey Mason who lived in London at that time.  The blogs have not been edited for spelling or grammar, I'm posting them as-is.  I had just turned 26 years old and the name of my blog was Oshkoshbtosh (a nickname from college).  I was Tosh.0 before Tosh.0 was cool.  

I booked my flight today, and I am "leaving on a jetplane" on April 28, and will make my return May 7.  I'm so excited, I'm a little bit nauseous.  Of course that may be contributed to the very bald and shiny headed man with the mammoth set of keys with the distincly one-leg shorter and his nasty cologne which permeated the hallways for many moments after his breeze through the advertising area.  Pardon the run-on sentence.  I bought my ticket today after lunch.  I can't even contain my excitement.  And, to make matters 1,000 times better, I'm getting paid vaca for the time I'm gone.  I just started my job 3.5 weeks ago, and I'm getting to use my p.v. Tara, I knew there had to be a prince in those toads of asshole bosses I've had my entire life.  Cheerio bloody Americans!

On Love

All a girl really wants is a guy who can pick her up off the floor amidst a mental breakdown.  If a girl is willing to let him and a guy is willing to help her up, then this is a good place to start.

Road Rage in LA

The biggest culture shock I received when I returned to LA wasn’t the fine-ass hotties strolling the streets of Abbot Kinney, Sunset Blvd., and the boardwalk; it was the narcissism of this town.  I first noticed it when I hopped in the car with a girlfriend and she almost immediately started slamming on her horn and cussing at the drivers around her as if they were personally seeking a vendetta with her. 

It kind of looked like this.

New Year in Bali

Reviewing my posted blogs I realize I’ve forgotten to post about one of the most interesting cultural experiences I was lucky enough to encounter while in Bali: NYEPI!!!  Also known as the Balinese New Year.  While most travelers got the hell out of Bali, Hannah, Candida and I decided to stay in Ubud.  I had already been to Ubud and wasn’t keen on going back, but it was better than staying in Kuta.  And those girls could create a good time with nothing but a piece of paper and some dental floss, or more accurately, Deet and a plastic bottle.  

My crew.

God Bless America. And Los Angeles.

On my way from Thailand via China I had a 12 hour countdown to my beloved country.  When we crossed the International Date Line I looked out the window into the middle of the night and saw a billion familiar stars that I hadn’t seen in months. 

The International Date Line.

A few hours later we were approaching the USA and I had the joy of watching the sun rise for the second time in a day – the first being in China.  I noticed I was the only one with my window shade up, the entire left side of my face pressed against the freezing cold Plexiglas, my left eyelid precariously close to being flipped inside out by my sheer will to see the sun shining on my hometown.  Gawd I love LA and America.  Here’s why:

I can let my guard down.  I don’t feel like I have to constantly watch my back or hold onto my purse with a Vulcan Death Grip.  I can breathe and relax because the odds of someone ripping my purse off of my shoulder while walking down Abbot Kinney are slim.  I feel like my entire body has exhaled.  According to my friend Christy Moulin, it’s my Circadian Clock readjusting to my familiar rhythm.  I won’t go into super specifics but being in a different hemisphere with different people, food, time zones and just traveling in general can mess with all SORTS of body functions and schedules. 

I can go where I want when I want, because I have a car.  I no longer have to rely on a taxi, tuk-tuk, scooter, motorcycle, bus, plane or boat to take me anywhere.  I can hop in my very own Mini Cooper, open the moon roof, roll down the windows, crank up the radio and go wherever I want.  I no longer have to worry about getting on a guy’s scooter and wondering how much he has drank, if he’s a good driver or not, holding my breath praying we don’t wreck.  What a relief. 

We have the BEST music in LA.  I’ve heard Oz has a great music scene as well, but my gawd I LOVE our music!  We have The Silversun Pickups, Of Monsters and Men, Awolnation, The Neighbourhood, Mumford & Sons, Lord Huron, Youngblood Hawke, Imagine Dragons and soo so so many more.  Just the music and the tacos alone will make you want to the star-studded sidewalks in this town. 

Being in houses.  For the past two months I’ve bounced around from hut to bungalow to homestay to hotel to hostel and it’s nice to spend time in my friends’ homes, where they live and cook and sleep every day.  It’s nice to know that everything in the house is there’s and it has only been used by people they know.  Just that fact gives the places I’ve been staying a completely different energy than the places I stayed in Asia (even if they were cool huts and bungalows).  Being away for two months makes me feel at home everywhere I go!

Freaking fast internet.  I can get through an episode of The  Vampire Diaries in the actual 40 minutes it should take, instead of 3 hours of load time. 

Hot guys riding their skateboards down the street in their Dodgers hats, Ray Bans, plaid shirts, designer jeans and some variation of Chucks, Vans, or boots.  Or maybe no shirt, like below.

Typical dude in Venice.

The Power of Manifestation

I have been ordered to write a blog manifesting the optimal ending to my search; a sort of “if you build it, he will come” type of thing.  What am I building?  In this case, the “perfect” job.  I’m dropping my resume at Shutters on the Beach on Monday morning and I’m going to ‘razzle dazzle’ them, thus getting the position as esthetician at their elite spa.  Hurray!  Manifestation created.  In these parts (Los Angeles) it’s sort of taboo to speak about a potential position, promotion, role, etc. before you’ve sealed the deal and signed the contract but, what the heck.  I’ll give it a shot because Mark Harmon told me to and his advice is almost always spot on.   

Since I was on a role with the power of manifestation, I asked my friend Jenny McClain what she would like to manifest for her latest project, a pilot that will be pitched and shopped to the major networks.  I believe saying what you want out loud to another person puts a lot of power behind your words.  So always try to speak from the heart and be very very detailed about what it is you want.  Jenny wants her pilot to be picked up by a major network, with several seasons and the original cast and crew carried through the project.  Fabulous!

Also, writing down your goals and manifestos and then reviewing them frequently helps to keep you motivated and on track; which is why I’m home in bed and not out partying.  I have a high profile client in the morning and I need my wits with me.  While I was in Bali I read The Way of the Superior Man and in that book, author David Deida says you should live on the edge and your work should always be driven by the desire to truly pursue and live your purpose.  I believe when you meditate and focus on your purpose the universe will speak to you and show you the way to living your truest self. 

What are some of your goals, dreams, or aspirations?  How do you feel after you’ve written them down and taken the time to look at your list(s)?  

Big Trouble, Little China

Or, a blonde American’s survival guide to accidentally booking an overnight stay in China. 

Yes that’s right, as I type this I’m in China.  In typical Nat fashion, I booked a flight and thinking that I had all my ducks in a row, managed to miss a couple of important details.  Like the fact that my next flight out of Kunming Airport was 13 hours after my arrival.  I don’t know how I didn't see a red flag when booking this but I think I was juggling a flight to Thailand at the same time.  Regardless, here I am in China in a very rural town, I think – I can’t Google it because the internet is controlled by the government and I’m not allowed access to Google, Facebook, twitter…not even my own blog.  Crazy!! 

I did start to freak out a little bit while at the airport; I mean what the hell am I going to do for 13 hours in China? 

The immigration people at the airport took me into the back area of the airport (not typical procedure here) where I could pull up my itinerary and prove to them that I in fact had a continuing flight from here to Shanghai.  I was under intense supervision the entire time using the internet in China is a very big privilege which they do not take lightly.  I mean, that immigration woman was standing thisclose to me.  Pulling up the ticket I wanted to be all “See??  Right there it says my connecting flight is in an hour!  Can I go now?” but when we opened the email she didn't even notice the problem, I had to point it out and explain to her what had happened.  My mouth literally popped open in shock, I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it before, and I had just looked at the itinerary the day before.  Crap.  The head of immigration was nice enough to give me a 24 hour visa with the adamant demand that I was to be out of the country the next morning.  He was so the picture of Chinese Communism, on his high tower above all the immigration stamp workers, it was almost ironic. 

He gave my passport back to me and without a trace of sarcasm or warmth he said “you make sure you know what time your flight is tomorrow and be here for your flight.  Do not stay in China longer than 24 hours.” 

All I could say was “Yes! Yes, 7:30 a.m., I’ll be here.  I’m here.  7:30 a.m. tomorrow”  Small pause… “and could you also recommend a reasonable hotel for me to stay tonight and also tell me how to get there?”  I had succeeded in turning Chinese Immigration in a travel agency.  WTH??

Ruckiry as I was leaving the airport a nice man asked me where I was going and when I told him I needed to get to Airport Hotel he turned out to be my amazing Chinese guardian Buddha.  He spoke English very well and he was very excited to tell me about the new airport I was in, take me to the ATM and then to the hotel.  In the back of my mind I was thinking “please don’t take my kidneys, please don’t take my kidneys, please don’t take my kidneys” and he didn’t!  He arranged for a wake up call for 4:30 the next morning as well as the hotel car to take me to the airport in the morning.  He also set up my wifi and let me know it was safe to walk around the area and get some food. 

I went to a little Chinese restaurant and even though I wasn't hungry but I thought I should eat some real Chinese food since I am in China (!!!).  I stuck out like a sore thumb in that one-horse town.  People actually stopped what they were doing when they saw my blonde head bobbing down the street.  Their eyes would follow me all the way past them and then I could hear them talking as if they were saying “Did you see that girl?  What is she doing here?  Is she lost?”  And then they would all laugh.  Haha, so funny guys!

After dinner at the local greasy spoon I took a scorching hot shower and I was so excited to climb into my fluffy bed and watch a movie on the flat screen in my room but my hopes were shattered when I flipped through the channels which were ALL Chinese – not even a BBC station.   Thanks Commies!  Ugh.  *rolls eyes.  No worries, I thought.  I’ll just write this little ditty on China instead.  Looking forward to my 4-Star bed I pulled the covers back and plopped onto…a wooden platform disguised as a mattress.  The bed was basically a board covered in linens.  I couldn't believe they went through all the trouble of making the bed look so lush just to sleep on a hard flat surface.  I guess it’s a cultural thing to have extremely firm beds, I’d Google it, but I’m not allowed. 

One Night in Bangkok

Skipping ahead in my chronological account of Southeast Asia, here are a few awesome things before I shut it down in Bangkok tonight.

I’m hungry.   Even after eating a pumpkin custard (I have a small addiction), a banana smoothie (no sugar, no milk) and a chicken skewer I’m still hungry.  Ugh.  I wish someone would kick down my hotel door a la Adam Driver in Girls and present me with tasty treats and then a snuggle. 

I woke up this morning from nearly no sleep in Pai (thanks to a snuggle with a walking, talking coloring book), threw all my things into a bag, hopped into a shuttle/Tuk-Tuk/airplane/taxi and then almost took a 9 hour bus followed by a 2 hour boat ride south to Koh Tao, but I decided “enough is enough” and booked a room instead.

Watching CSI: Miami reminds me of my mom and I like that.

I like Grooveshark better than Spotify and Pandora put together. 

Neither Spotify nor Pandora are available in Thailand or Indonesia.  Also, no Netflix.

I laugh a LOT more when the Sissys and I are cruising around town, wreaking havoc as a bicycle gang.

I haven’t had the thrill of hearing an iphone text alert in over a month and I don’t mind it or miss it, but I really really miss the camera.

Today I learned about the gift your enemies are actually giving you, whilst sitting on the toilet.  

Bali: Uluwatu, Land of a Billion Stairs

After a few days in Kuta (which came to be my “regroup point”), I needed out again.  My friend Lucas, a fellow writer whose blog can be found at antipodasia.blogspot.com recommended that I visit Uluwatu, a fantastic surf point 10 kilometers south of Kuta.  While I had been there for a day or two before, Lucas told me it was inexpensive ($8/night at the guest houses) and the atmosphere was perfect – not gluttonous like Kuta but not too sleepy.  He wrote down some home stay recommendations and I was off.  The places he recommended where amazing; right on the ocean, I’m talking ocean spray from the rocks hitting the stairs of our place.  I slept with my door open and woke up in the morning watching the waves roll across the ocean, peppered with a few patient surfers in Pandang Padang.  

The stairs leading down to Buffalo Surf House - don't bring a  heavy suitcase!

The cows I encountered once I reached the bottom.

Wave set at Padang Padang

These two were on their honeymoon.  They're from China. I HAD to have a picture with them.

My room at Buffalo Surf House

The necessary equipment to ride on a scooter in Bali.

Even though the bathroom in our home stay was shared by every.single. person. in the place and more than twice as much as Lucas has said (he forgot to mention he was sharing his room), Buffalo Surf House was charming with a gauzy 4-poster mosquito net hanging over the bed.  A cluster of four different surf houses made up a compound on the cliff side and every morning I had breakfast at Made’s warung with all of the surfers staying in one of the four accommodations.  

While Uluwatu wasn’t the best for someone who doesn’t ride a scooter, it was the best place to find amazing people and get lost on some amazing backwoods treks.  “Ulus” is where I met Candida, Hannah, Seb, Daniel, Eduardo and Chris and I’m so glad because they were a group of people having a (mostly) honest good time.  This group came together in a way only backpackers would understand.  Hannah and Candida, both from England grew up together and met up while in the middle of their individual travel journeys abroad. 

Candida (sounds like Canada but with “did” stuck in the middle) is the funniest person I’ve ever met in my whole entire life.  Ever.  I think she’s more funny than Seinfeld, she regularly references Ross from Friends, can make up songs about sandwiches on the spot and has a serious dance routine which involves lots of pointed-toe movements, musical crescendos and a fantastic costume.  We have been sharpening this act throughout our travels and I believe when she is ready, it will be a total hit.  I am positive if Candida came to LA she would be famous within weeks, if not days.  Hannah reminds me almost exactly of myself when I was her age.  She’s stubborn, impatient and the guy of girl who will knock your lights out if you cross her just enough.  But underneath that I think she is secretly incredibly generous, sensitive and very sweet.  In fact I know she is because when I had a bad spell with some mushies (more on that later) she was right there with me, getting me snacks and water and assuring me that there were no monsters and the room was not actually breathing.   If she were here I’m sure she punch me in the face for saying even saying that, which makes me smile.  I swear it’s like I’m looking at myself 13 years ago.  I can’t wait to see what she’ll be like by the time she’s my age because while Hannah loves to have the last word, she is also a person who is able to change and see the logic in different ways.  Daniel, Eduardo, Chris and Seb were a great addition my memories in Uluwatu and I even roomed with Sebastian for a night because it saved us both a great deal of money to do so and he’s a pretty great guy anyways.  We were always very excited to run back into Sebastian while on the travels; whether we were just walking down the street, or on another island entirely.  I’m actually hoping to see him while I’m in Bangkok.

The view from my room at Buffalo.

When I think about Ulus it seems like there was always a smile on my face and I have this group of people to blame. The second day I was there I ran into the group they invited to me to go to a secret beach which someone told them about and had given them a hand-drawn map to the location.  That sounded like an amazing adventure so of course I was in.  Once again on the back of a scooter, 5 minutes later we were turning off of the main road onto a little path too small for two bikes to pass each other, then a dirt road with weeds growing on either side.  We arrived at the edge of a giant cliff so tall I had to strain to see the cows grazing at the bottom.  We found the way down and began the treacherous decent of more than 500 stairs.  Not exaggerating there were MORE than 500 stairs, my knees ached for days afterward.  There was a small temple built into the face of the cliff very near the bottom so I stopped and took pictures of the outside but it is not respectful to enter so I didn’t.  When I finally emerged from the cliff side jungle I was in a field face-to-face with cows.  They looked up for a moment and their expressions seemed to say “move along, you’re in my grassy path and I’m in the middle of lunch”.  Turning around, I surveyed the cliff and thought “that looks exactly like something out of Jurassic Park.” 

Passing the cows and avoiding the poo I made my way to the beach and joined the others, checking out the waves which turned out to be savage mushy beasts too strong for anyone to really surf.  So instead we all sat on the shore and looked for the best shells we could find.  Then we buried Daniel in the sand and we spent the rest of the time talking, laughing, walking and exploring.  The boys finally decided to try the massive foamy waves right before a storm rolled in which made for great pictures and then we had to make a run for it under a tree while the storm blew through and soaked us completely.  It was like a scene from Cast Away and it was such a fun adventure.  

The view from the top of the 500+ stairs at the secret beach.

This flower looked like an upside-down fairy to me.

The temple built into the cliff side at the secret beach.

A buried Daniel with Eduardo and myself.  

The gang L to R: Candid, Eduardo, Daniel, Hannah and Chris.  Seb was busy fetching a board.

Playing in the sand, looking for shells, mustering the courage to surf in the storm.

The storm coming around the hill.

The boys are out there some where.  The current was super strong and carried them pretty far to the right once they were out. 

The way out.

Large Bintang. 

More of the backpackers at Bali Rocks.

Chris, Daniel and I at the top of the cliff, where we stayed in Padang Padang.  Nice little set coming in.

Seb getting Candida's opinion on a hat.  Seb's a great shopping partner, fyi.  

Milkshake break. 

Super nice sets in Uluwatu.

The little cave/crevice down to the beach.  

A little warung on a rock in Uluwatu.

More exploring with the gang.

Pick your poison at the gas station.

I spent the next few days with the group, checking out the cave at Suluban, drinking milkshakes and watching the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen in my whole entire life. 

The most beautiful sunset I've ever seen in my whole entire life.

A ceremony marking the end of dry season and the beginning of festivities for the Bali New Year.

After a few days, it was time for everyone to move on, either to Ubud or the Gili Islands but not before a night in Kuta.  We all crammed into a car and were off to…Suka Beach of course.  

Bali, Nusa Lembongan. Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda.

I continued my journey east, to Nusa Lembongan where I went to get away from the disenchanted Kuta.  I’ve found myself wishing I’d gone to these one-off places sooner; they are so lovely, calm and more like the Bali I was hoping to experience.  Taking the fast boat east from Sanur, I landed on the tiny island 30 minutes later, hopped on the back of a scooter and was whisked away to my paradise Bungalow.  Ironically, it was called Suka Beach II, although it was nothing like the Suka Beach in Kuta.

My Bungalow on the beach.

The inside of my bungalow.

Bed bugs (from Kuta) and Motley Crue.  Somewhat appropriate.

I’ve replaced taxis, spit, dirt and hagglers with rooster, crickets, trees and butterflies.  Even with all of the humidity Kuta somehow seemed dry to me, whereas Lembongan practically has a heartbeat.  The humidity comes in puffy waves as if the plants and trees are actually inhaling and exhaling.  I finally feel like I can breathe.  After a night of deep, comfortable sleep I woke up at 7 a.m. the next morning and enjoyed a perfect breakfast by the ocean.  I had a fluffy banana pancake and fruit that didn’t taste like it had been cut with a knife used for onions.  It felt like I was Ashley Judd in Ya-Ya Sisterhood when she ditches her kids and goes to a hotel near the ocean for a few days.  I watched the locals working on their seaweed farms (the main source of income for the island, the seaweed is used in numerous products all over the world, from ice cream to skin cream), pushing their long boats around the patches of seaweed in the water, or balancing the bouncy stuff in baskets on their heads.  They seem happy and resolute about their job and there is no question that they should be doing anything else.    

A seaweed farmer, checking his crop in the morning.

A woman carrying a basket of seaweed in it's second stage of harvest.

These little guys were playing near me while I took pics of the seaweed.

Seaweed drying in different stages of harvest.

Lembongan is such a small island that I decided to do two things I’ve never done before: run around half of the entire island and also to drive a scooter.  The scooter part didn’t last long, I ran over part of Ketut’s garden in the first 20 seconds and then I ran into a few ditches while trying to maneuver the ridiculous thing.  I came back after about 30 minutes of white-knuckle fear and gave it right back to Ketut who took pity on me and only charged me R10,000 (about $1).  Now whenever I see a child driving one of these beasts with ANOTHER child on the back and neither wearing helmets, I can’t help but gape in wonder as to how they manage it.

After the scooter I took a look at my map and decided it would be pretty easy to navigate a 60 minute run so off I went.  Two adventurous hours later I arrived back at my bungalow drenched in sweat, full of happiness and starving.  I had almost given up not because I was mentally tired, but physically tired.  I have to say there is so much elation in finally knowing where you are when you’ve been lost for almost an hour.  As I came around the bend of the hill overlooking the island I could hear the locals practicing the traditional music they would later play at the Nyepi celebration and I felt like a total warrior. 

My super sweaty self after running around the island.

View from one of the highest points of Lembongan.  Also the moment I knew where I was.

Definitely the coolest guy on the island.

That night I had dinner by the ocean and an acupressure massage by Made (sounds like Mah-Day) which I swear made me constipated.  I’m not kidding, whatever that guy did jacked me up for the next 3 weeks.  I don’t recommend getting a healing massage while in Bali, I’ll be honest.  Especially when my massage therapist is one of the best in LA (shout out Coco!!), but I suppose it was something I should experience.  That night I sat at my balcony and wrote two manifestos: one for work and one for love, as well as my goals for 2013.  I was pretty satisfied with the day and when I finally fell asleep Angus Stone’s melodic voice was singing “Just a Boy” at a bar close enough to my bungalow to lull me into sweet dreams. 

The next day I went snorkeling all over the Islands where I swam with little beautiful fishes and coral and and and…Manta Rays.  This was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done for a few reasons.  First, I thought they were the same sort of rays that killed Steve Irwin and when the boat driver told us not to panic if the ray swam towards us, I was sure it was the same.  Second, even though I am really not afraid of most things, I have grown to be afraid or respectful of the ocean.  I just understand its power and know what the water is capable of doing.  So jumping in an ocean full of Mantas is absolutely crazy for me.  But I did it.  I swear my heart was beating so loud and hard they could actually hear it and it seemed like they were FOLLOWING ME.  I tried not to panic but I think I failed a bit.  There were a few times I had to surface so I can cough up the ocean water I’d sucked in while trying to make a u-turn to avoid these things that look like underwater monsters.  Everyone was spooked, it was really funny.  I tapped on a girl’s shoulder to let her know I was behind her and swear she peed in her bathing suit.  Only later did I find out they are not the same at all.  There were also several divers with us and I swam around in the tiny bubbles put off by their oxygen tanks, it felt like little kisses all over my body.  We spent the day looking at coral that looked like giant brains and clams and flowers and an entire underwater world that would make you wonder WHAT THE HELL Ariel was thinking. 

Some caves on our way to the manta ray spot.

I wish I had stayed on the island longer, but for some reason after a few days it was time to return to the dreadful Kuta, Bali.  Alas I packed my bags to head back.

This little guy was just chillin out, watching tv.  

The "roads" in Lembongan.  There are very few cars and trucks here.  

Some of the island elders, watching a cooking show in the temple, on a pretty nice flat screen tv.

Even the boats look like paradise.

The only graveyard I saw in all of Bali.

This is not a commercial, this actually happened to me.

A Nyepi monster in progress.

The only bridge that connects Lembongan to Nusa Ceningan.

These little girls serenade you before you go down into the Underground House.

One of the 7 entrances/exits into the Underground House.

The "kitchen" in the Underground House. There are DEFINITELY Fraggles living down here.

The beginning of a beautiful sunset.  

My little friend.  We did some exploring together.