the CoLoRS of Life.

So it seems like I'm always up for a new change ... and since this year's change doesn't include a new culture ... how about a new hair color?

redheads always have more fun! ;)

But I'm not simply satisfied with change in hair color ... it's time for me to update my room a little bit. I still have posters and pictures up from high school, and until recently, I still had a calendar from 2003 still up! So, update needed? OH. YES.

I'm trying to add some style and maturity to my room ... help my room reflect where I'm at in my life. So I bought three blue tester paints for my room.

At certain angles it looks a little
like I painted a blue wedding cake
on my wall.

I had previously been all set with the bottom color (Gem Turquoise) but after sitting with it for several days I realized that I was disgusted with all three colors. So back to Home Depot to buy more sample paint ... and I decided that blue was out ... but eternally feminine and mature peach was in.

The top color block is "friendship" the
second color block is called "sun kissed peach"
the third, skinny color block is more friendship

Can't tell the difference between the colors? Think they look more pink than peach? Can't even really tell a whole lotta difference between the white and the "peach" ... ya, me too.

Back to the drawing board. At least by the time I'm done I'll have enough tester paint to start painting everything I own various ugly shades of blue and "peach".

The one thing I am sold on is filling my room with artwork. Wherever I've been allowed to "make my mark" somewhere I've had collage-y walls filled with things that insprire and move me ... and I thought for the adult updated version I'd do the same but but things in frames and nailing them in instead of using rolls of scotch tape.

Here's some artwork from a favorite artist of mine that I purchased from Etsy and framed myself (thanks dollar store and Ross!)

Oh the adventures of the unemployed!!

Am I happy to still be hitting the pavement? Nope. Not one little bit. Not working doesn't suit me. I like to complain about wanting more time when I'm working, but the reality?  If I'm not working I'm not really doing much of anything ... which turns me into crazy pajama lady who keeps driving to Home Depot lurking around the paint aisles.

No bueno.

Here's to hoping that I get a job quick so I get back to complaining about all of the AMAZING things I'd accomplish if I only I had the time! ;)

and so life continues

some catch up.

Left Perth in September.
Vacationed in Guangzhou on my lonesome, saw some favorite old sites.
Traveled to Taiwan for two weeks and partied it up with Betty
Came back to the States
Then spent a week in Gallup, New Mexico with Whitney
Then back again in Arizona.

And that's what you've missed with me.



This blog is called a wild undertaking ... not just because I have gypsy blood and tend to follow whereever the wind directs me, it's because life itself is a wild undertaking.

My life is a wild untaking, and so this blog continues.

Mr. Magorium (of Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium fame once said), "Your life is an occasion, rise to it."

And so I do ... and my voice continues ... writing to an audience of little to none with a mind to always press myself to write and remember all of the amazing and incredible things that I get to experience. Life is too wonderful to allow myself to forget.

Life and my adventure continues right here, right this minute.

Next up? Farmer's markets,unemployment, redecorating and packing for Seattle.

Ain't life grand?

all work and no play makes me a very dull molly

Alright. As is custom in my life (and I am quite certain ... most people's lives). I have fallen into the comfort of a routine life. Wake up, eat breakfast/lunch/dinner (depending on what time of day my job requires me to be up for), catch up on sleep if it's a free day, or go to work. At work, I wrestle with teenagers about cleaning their rooms (the irony isn't lost on me), convince them to go to school, yell "oi! mate, you're gonna need to calm down!" and "No, I will not let you "see" the keys to the car" and walking around like a jail warden with keys dangling at my hip.

And then Dad and I talked ... and he bestowed upon me wisdom that can only be imparted while at a Del Taco in Gilbert ... "oh so you're not even doing any day trips?"

Le sigh.

My exciting adventure down under had been reduced to being excited about taking exams for a class back in the States. BOH-RING. Right?

So after providing the usual excuses: Western Australia is big ... I have to go a long ways to get anywhere, and Boo! I don't know if my car could hack it ... blah blah blah I hung up the phone and thought, "what the hey?! Why not?" And within thirty minutes had booked a whale watching tour, and a stay at Ace's Motor Lodge and simultaneously crossed something off my bucket list.

Hanging with Humpback whales in the Southern Ocean ... and seeing the Southern Ocean for the first time? Cross, cross, double crossed off.  *Note: there is some debate as to where the Southern Ocean and the Indian and Pacific end. In Australia ... anything south of Australia is considered the Southern Ocean ... so while not everyone agrees ... I go with Australia's view since I'm here ... and it's cool to say that I've seen and been in four of the five oceans.

Luckily it's really easy to get to Albany (I didn't even bring a map) ... it's almost a five hour drive, but literally, all I do is turn onto North Lake from where I am, turn onto Beeliar ... which then turns into Aramdale, which then turns into Albany Highway ... and my road trip had begun!!

Almost as soon as I was on the highway, all signs of suburban Perth began to fall away and instead were replaced with trees, and green pasture land dotted with sheep, and little lambs that were so sweet, it was hard to resist pulling over and kidnapping one. It's a good thing that I enjoyed those sheep so much, because that is all there was to see for five hours ... well that and road kill kangaroos (that was sad).

Below are a smattering of pictures of my grand 'ole time down south! :)

The Town of Albany

The whale watching catamaran, with a 75 year old captain who would play the flute
to the whales and talk about environmental conversation

So I saw about five different whales ... haha, at least I'm pretty sure they were different. But didn't get a single good
photo, you can kinda see a fin over on top.

I sat with my feet over the edge the whole time, and look at the color of this water!!! It was beautiful. At one
point I realized that three was this light green colored thing moving beneath my feet, only to learn that it
was a flirty humpback whale swimming on her back beneath me. SO. COOL.

I LOVED the water ... and look at the surface ... it really looked like this ... this odd/cool glassy surface

A natural bridge!! How cool! I had seen pictures of this bridge before ... but what you can't tell by looking
at a picture is just how absolutely massive it is, really cool!!

So remember how I was talking about it's hard to tell how big the bridge was by the picture?
It was the same with the gap ... it's ooh, rock face ... okay. But just to give an idea of how massive
this is ... just look for the man standing on the upper left hand corner ... HUGE

Obligatory self portrait. Sitting with my legs dangling into the gap, all wrapped up in my warmest
to combat the winter weather that we have down here. 

I like this picture for a few reasons. 1. I like that you get to see the Spiderman sticker that came - free of charge-
with my car on my side mirror. 2. It's an obviously beautiful view of the Southern Ocean 3. You can also see
the Southern Ocean in my side mirror, so you get the view beside and behind me ... COOL! 

On my way back to "Ace Motor Lodge" where I was s drove past what must be a kangaroo farm, and decided to snap
a photo, kangaroos are so beautiful when they are mid kangaroo hop

Sins

Okay. So I know that finding joy in the struggles of others is wrong. Really wrong. Plainly wrong. I know this to be true ... which means that I have to admit that I am a no good dirty rotten sinner, because my cheeks couldn't be rosier.

But I can't help it!

My job is hard ... incredibly hard, but I'm surrounded by lots of amazingly talented professionals, and sometimes I wonder if maybe it's just harder for me. Maybe I just intrinsically am not meant to work with teenagers. While ... I think in some ways, this job has shown me that I am not quite the teenager-whisperer that I hoped I would be, it has shown me something else as well.

I am a lot tougher than I give myself credit for.

The turnover rate is very high in my department, and so they accept applications for employment all year round, and then put 10-20 successful applicants through the very expensive two and a half week paid training course, about every three months or so. As I just hit my three month mark (and my half way point as well, unfortunately), it was time for the newest recruits to be coming in. In Tucson I was used to being the girl with all the answers, I'd worked for the Department of Emergency Medicine for four years, they called me the Mollinator because I knew my stuff, and I had outlasted three business managers as a humble student employee (functioning as a administrative assistant/secretary). But since I've graduated, I've been here, there, and everywhere, and so in many ways I've grown accustomed to eternally being the new girl ... so being more superior than someone and training other people to do what I do just absolutely blows my mind.

Now, I am not suggesting that I torture our newest little recruits or anything ... but I do ... just like a comic book villain ... take some joy in the pains that our newest recruits have had to go through.

A lot of the newest recruits have already dropped out. The work is "too hard", the children's violent/emotional outbursts too much to handle. They spent a day in my shoes, and decided that they preferred to run in the opposite direction. One poor girl was given an impromptu little hair "trim" from a particularly mischievous 15 year old boy, so she went home immediately and said that she didn't think she had any intention of ever coming back.

Now, I feel for her, in fact the very same thing happened to me my first or second week of working, but from a different 15 year old boy ... I turned around to the kid, who was still holding the scissors, wiped the freshly cut hairs from my shoulder, and said, "thanks, I needed a trim." and immediately went back to what I was doing. He's never touched my hair since.

So I admit it ... their difficulties are helping me to realize that I'm a tougher bird than I think I am. When the going has gotten tough ... I've stuck it out and stuck around.

The absolutely sinful giant pat on the back is now done. Thanks for listening. ;)

if you ask a molly a question

So distance has never been an issue for mine and Whitney's friendship. In fact, I think we'd both agree that we're better at it the farther apart we are ... no need to psycho-analyze ... it's just the way it is for us, and probably has a lot to do with the fact that over the last 15 years that we've known one another ... we've only lived in the same metro area for about 18 months.

We talk nearly every day and so it had been a whole weekend of of 'no contact' and dear Whitney wrote me an email asking me how things have been ... in the 48 hours or so that we haven't said hello. After I finished, I decided that it was a good "how I've been" email, and decided to post it on my blog as well.

let me tell you ... it's been A M A Z I N G!!! 

Saturday, after work, I talked to Chrystal for like three hours, and just chilled ... and then Sunday ... I did the church thing (it was a particularly good Sunday too!)

 ... and then today ... wowee ... let me tell you, Monday 7 May 2012 ... has been a good day!! 

I woke up and decided to head down to Freo nice and early in the morning. I took the bus (parking is impossible in Freo - and why worry about it when it's only a 15 minute bus ride from my house?) I chose a cafe that I've been eyeing for a while as a nice breakfast target. It's little table and chairs are generally filled to capacity with early morning Aussies ... and is situated right in the middle of the cafe strip in Freo.  I looked over the menu and finally settled on the blue cheese and mushroom omlette and a nice warm drink since I was going to be sitting outside reading the West Australian newspaper and people watching. 

The cafe was not as bustling as it normally is - but I suppose people not milling around a cafe at 8am on a weekday is a sign of a healthy economy - haha! And especially since I had decided to sit outside in the morning air ... there were even fewer "people watching" choices. But I had the good fortune of sitting close to two Scotsman in a heated debate ... over what, I couldn't quite decide because it was hard to pay attention to their individual words - their lyrical accents were so much more seductive.  I also tried to snoop in on a French couple who spoke in such hushed tones that I immediately decided that they were having an affair, and their conversation was so scandalous that I shouldn't be trying to eavesdrop! 

After that I meandered to a favorite second hand bookshop in Freo. They had only just opened their doors and so I mostly had the place to myself. I grabbed a couple books and found a small stool to claim in a corner of the shop, and read about an Australian journalist who had fallen in love with Paris. He says that a good measure of social practice in a society is by how good or bad the TV is. 

He says that in France, the television programming is universally known as "simply the worst". This is because the people are out until 3 am discussing politics and trying to seduce people, living lives where the drama is found within their communities and relationships and not on television screens. He says that the world's best television programming comes from Britain, apparently, because their social lives are small and their only activity: "watching the telly." So according to him, Parisians: living life so hard and so well, they don't need good TV, and the English: living such drab lives that the TV had better be good or they'll fall over stone dead from boredom. 

Whether I wholly agree with him or not ... I do happen to remember the television programming in France, and he's right ... it's crap. 

I wanted to buy a nice "sink my teeth into it" kind of book, you know what I mean- the "I can't put it down and I have bags under my eyes when I go to work because at the moment I place higher value on finding out what happens to 'x' character than to making sure that I practice occupational health and safety and get enough rest the night before" kind of book-

Instead, I made the mistake of asking the bookshop employee for a recommendation. She was incredibly well read and immediately began suggesting weightier material (think the likes of War and Peace), books written by journalists who risked their lives in war zones simply to bring us the stories of suffering people, and large dusty volumes of classic literature. While, I have many a classic lit enjoyed ... I was leaning more towards a good old fashioned murder mystery or a nice little bit of romance ... possibly even some chick lit? 

She pointed to books in the store (it smells wonderfully of old pages - you know what I mean - I love that smell) and glided over picking up different novels and biographies of great people and then smugly waved her hand towards the chick lit section saying, "And of course there's chick lit ... it THAT'S what you're into" 

"Me? Of course not. That's ridiculous! I'm far too intellectually superior to find any enjoyment in a casual romantic fantasy, or a mystery solving, lip stick wearing sleuth! Show me to your most intellectually stimulating books! I will not read it unless I begin to question my morals, my sanity, my intellect or cry for at least an hour after it's done!"

We met in the middle somewhat (and I think I lost a little respect in the eyes of this shop keeper) in choosing Nancy Mitford's - think the female version of Oscar Wilde- "The Pursuit of Love" and "Love in a Cold Climate" over the book that sat next to it on the shelf about a boy/girl coming to terms with her/his duel identity as a hermaphrodite in a Greek family in 1960's America.  

Afterwards ... it was off to the movies ... well ... TWO actually. The guy who sold me the first ticket, sold me the second as well - I proudly opened my purse to look for my debit card as I gloated, 'might as well see another, what the hell, it's my day off!' (I'm allowed to say hell here - and even though it falls awkwardly from my lips - I try to throw it in every once and a while). ;)

After the movies a bit of shopping ... pursuing ... and in general, just enjoying as much as I could of Freo, and the weather that has suddenly turned so crisp. 

So to answer your question ... it's been good.

like a ... kangaroo ... caught in the headlights

With my current position, jobs seem to come in at a feast or famine rate. To my utter gratitude, mostly feast ... and the last little while it has been the epitome of that. As I write, I have not had a day off since April 20, and won't be getting one until May 4. While I'm very grateful for the opportunity that I've had to work, last night was a draining night. The children weren't bad - nothing horrible happened ... I was just having to deal with a teenage boy ... who acts and talks more like a vindictive teenage girl suffering from PMS, I'm sure everyone can surmise how much fun that combination is! ;)

I had had enough, my patience was drained, so when my superior said that I could shove off about fifteen minutes early, I eagerly accepted instead of my usual offering to stay a little later. I got in my car, and slowly drove up the hill to get on my way home. My car (knock on wood) is another incredible blessing in my life, to say that it has been a hero of sorts would not be an over exaggeration, but if my car is my hero, then any small hill is it's kryptonite.

With pats and encouragement from me, my car inched it's way to the top of a hill that begins just outside of the house I was working at, and as the car reached the summit, I found myself staring straight into the eyes of two large kangaroos directly in front of me and the car. It was cold, and dark outside, and it was just the kangaroos, my humble little car, and me. I just sat and stared, my headlights framing their large forms. Music was playing from the radio in my car, but the cold night air made everything feel more quiet as I watched on, astounded by the beauty of the wild kangaroos.

They soon grew tired of staring at me, and gently sloped their necks towards the grass of house I was facing to continue their nibbling. I might be a boring specimen ... but I found them infinitely more enchanting than they did me. My engine quietly hummed beneath me ... as I watched them graze, feet from my car.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some movement to my right, and when I turned, there was a third kangaroo nibbling on the grass next to my car. I just sat in the cold, enjoying their company ... as they lazily nibbled on the grassy bits around me.

Finally, after the kangaroos and I had finished enjoying a couple "easy listening" songs from the radio, I decided that I had better head home. I began to turn my car, and the kangaroo to my right hopped away in utter silence, back into the forest that must be it's home.

Every experience has it's highs and it's lows, and I would have to admit that hanging out with wild kangaroos at 11pm ... is a high for me.

¡Felices Pascuas

I had a bit of moment today at church. The YSA Sunday School teacher asked us, "Who had been raised in the church?" Five out of the six of us raised our hands.

In Gilbert ... or Utah ... this would be pretty common, I'm used to adults being raised in the church ... but there was something different about this scene.

The teacher of the class, Juan, from Chile, was raised in the church. Sariah, sitting next to me, from Hong Kong, was raised in the church. Erin, my Aussie roommate, raised in the church. Simin, German/Australian, raised in the church. The only convert there was my good friend Yina, from China.

A room of ADULTS from several different corners of the planet (only one from America). Adults, who were all once in nursery, primary, the youth program, took institute classes, a few even serving missions ... all of us raised within the warm arms of the gospel.

The sheer "international-ness" of the church has never hit me so deeply.

Juan sometimes struggles with English, as do Sariah and Yina sometimes ... but the language of the church is our common language. It is the common thread that connects our presumably completely divergent lives.

This Easter, my mind turns to the beautiful message of the gospel, and the opportunity that we have for eternal life because of an almost incomprehensible sacrifice that was performed on our behalf nearly two thousand years ago, by a loving Elder Brother. And for the bravery, and faith of a young boy in New York nearly two hundred years ago, that has made it possible, for six people ... from six different countries ... to jointly partake in the good news of the gospel, and for five of us, to have had the good fortune to be taught such beautiful truths, in different corners of the world, since infancy.

To all nations, kindred, and tongues, indeed.