Cross-Country Cooking hitting the roads and the stoves tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-09-10:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus 2007-04-07T21:49:54Z Kim Paulus img/travel-blog-feed.png Where I've been tag:travellerspoint.com,2007-02-06:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=28&entryid=43150 2007-04-07T21:49:54Z 2007-04-07T21:49:54Z So I've got a few entries saved on my archaic throwback of a laptop but it seems lately I haven't had a lap long enough to put anything on it, let alone a computer. So I've actually managed to settle in pretty well out here. I go from being one of the guys to the hottest thing to hit this state... EVER. Oh yeah. I was told by a 17 year-old that she was going to wife ... So I've got a few entries saved on my archaic throwback of a laptop but it seems lately I haven't had a lap long enough to put anything on it, let alone a computer. So I've actually managed to settle in pretty well out here. I go from being one of the guys to the hottest thing to hit this state... EVER. Oh yeah. I was told by a 17 year-old that she was going to wife me. I told her my truck was older than she was. (Lucy's 18 by the way and temporarily laid up but she'll be good as new before you know it.) The teenaged fan club is coming along nicely, it seems my predilection for indiscriminate winking has caused quite a stir... at the highschool. It's not their fault though, I'm just a REALLY hot 14 year old boy.
There's some other stuff going on too but I'm not entirely sure I've got hold of it to explain just yet. I'm doing a lot of wandering, both around town and around my head. I'm climbing trees and picking up rocks and frolicing barefoot in the snow. I'm letting the sun shine on my face and watching the moon change shape at night and I am alive and in that I am love. There is great goodness in the world and I am part of that every day. We'll see where that takes me but right now, it's a road I need to follow. Time's short, thoughts are jumbled. More to follow.
Peace and love

Where I've been remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> Sugarhouse tag:travellerspoint.com,2007-04-07:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=29&entryid=53852 2007-04-07T21:47:59Z 2007-04-07T21:47:59Z I've arrived in Utah at a most tumultuous time. It is the beginning of the end of a neighborhood. The smoke shop closed with a minimum of fanfare, only the rustlings of, "Fuck, now I have to go to the gas station." Not so much of an inconvenience as a slight subversion of loyalty as if one, now by necessity, was forced to fraternize with the enemy. At first the boards across the window were hung ... I've arrived in Utah at a most tumultuous time. It is the beginning of the end of a neighborhood. The smoke shop closed with a minimum of fanfare, only the rustlings of, "Fuck, now I have to go to the gas station." Not so much of an inconvenience as a slight subversion of loyalty as if one, now by necessity, was forced to fraternize with the enemy.
At first the boards across the window were hung almost reverently with a few posters advertizing a concert in the desert and an enlarged photograph of the time-torn red rocks to the south with which, to a greater or lesser degree, everyone here seems to feel a sharp sense of kinship. Soon enough though, one can guess, hte unassuming plywood will soon be etched with all manner of statement from the masses of hitherto unenlightened folk with litte resistance as, one by one, the people who believe in this town are forced on their way.

Sugarhouse remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> Melissa Sinclair Murray tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-28:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=27&entryid=29260 2006-10-28T18:24:54Z 2006-10-28T18:24:54Z My personal lord and savior? Um, no. The other day I’m feelin awful down so I text Melissa because she’s probably the one person on the face of the planet that genuinely gets where I’m coming from on all this. I guess if I were more into psychology (okay, I majored in it in college and used it, oh, here and there and everyfreakinwhere in my 11 year career in mental heath) I might be inclined to say that ... My personal lord and savior? Um, no.

The other day I’m feelin awful down so I text Melissa because she’s probably the one person on the face of the planet that genuinely gets where I’m coming from on all this. I guess if I were more into psychology (okay, I majored in it in college and used it, oh, here and there and everyfreakinwhere in my 11 year career in mental heath) I might be inclined to say that I suffer from bipolar disorder. But only half the time. Hell, the manic part is GREAT! I think that’s why I’m in Utah, actually, one manic day I just said, “Hey! I know! (remember, we’re talking manic phase here, there are a lot of exclamation points!) I’ll quit my job and take off with no money and no job prospects in a 92 Chevy I got for FREE and just kinda, I don’t know, drive around and see what’s out there! That’s a great idea!” Hey, y’all are reading my blog so some part of you must see the genius here.

But… I digress. A lot. All the damn time. I’m still doing it. I just can’t stop.

So Melissa actually gets the tremendous highs and lows I go through because she’s had her own share of mood swings. Hell, the girl spent the summer before last in Wyoming, sent me a picture of her ass next to the world’s largest potato replica somewhere in Idaho. She’s also the best singer I’ve ever known and, by some accounts, I’m a lesbian. If anyone knows chick singers…

So the other day I text Melissa and tell her that I’m feeling pretty down. I don’t have a job yet, I’m getting anxious about money, I’m lonely as hell, I haven’t so much as SEEN anyone attractive since leaving New York, and she texts me back what amounts to something along the lines of (and if you can’t tell, I’m paraphrasing slightly)

Yesterday is but a dream
And tomorrow is only a vision
But today, well spent
Makes every yesterday a dream of happiness
And every tomorrow a vision of hope.

Quit bitchin.

Start livin.

Get up, get out and ride.

Melissa Sinclair Murray remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> WTF tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-28:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=26&entryid=29258 2006-10-28T18:23:41Z 2006-10-28T18:23:41Z “Wow, Rosemary,” I text, “why have you forsaken me?” Is that a joke? I don’t know. It’s pretty much indicative, though, of how I see the world. I’ve simply got no object constancy when it comes to people in my life. If they aren’t present, actively responding to everything I say I feel as though I’ve driven them away. Then I dive them away. I’m not sure which is more secretly appealing, indulging in the ... “Wow, Rosemary,” I text, “why have you forsaken me?”

Is that a joke? I don’t know. It’s pretty much indicative, though, of how I see the world. I’ve simply got no object constancy when it comes to people in my life. If they aren’t present, actively responding to everything I say I feel as though I’ve driven them away. Then I dive them away. I’m not sure which is more secretly appealing, indulging in the idea that no one can love me and I’ll just be abandoned or cashing in on that self-fulfilling prophesy when, exasperated, people ultimately turn away from my selfish, needy and downright transparent attempts to vie for their attention.
Stay tuned folks. PLEASE!!! OR DON'T, I DON'T REALLY CARE WHAT YOU THINK ANYWAY. No, really, I didn't mean it, what did you think of that?

WTF remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> My Utah Experience tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-24:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=25&entryid=28857 2006-10-24T21:31:11Z 2006-10-24T21:31:11Z I am in Salt Lake City, Utah. In Utah, I'm staying with Sydel: *my friend going on about 9 years, *my freshman year R.A., *my POLAR FREAKIN OPPOSITE. Sydel and I couldn't be more different: *She likes shoes. *And her mother. *She believes in laser hair ... I am in Salt Lake City, Utah.

In Utah, I'm staying with Sydel:

*my friend going on about 9 years,
*my freshman year R.A.,
*my POLAR FREAKIN OPPOSITE.

Sydel and I couldn't be more different:

*She likes shoes.
*And her mother.
*She believes in laser hair removal and permanant cosmetics.
*She owns red things.

I've been given my own room with

*an inflatable mattress,
*real sheets and,
*almost an entire desk.

  • I am uncomfortable with this.
  • I sleep on the couch.
  • I fear commitment.
  • I might move back into my car.

That is all I have to report on now.

My Utah Experience remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> R tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-24:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=24&entryid=28854 2006-10-24T21:10:39Z 2006-10-24T21:10:39Z So somehow I'd come into this strange idea that she’s the one for me. At least in part. At least right now. I guess I formed that conclusion based, primarily, on how hard it was to leave her and her prevalence in my thoughts. Now, anyone can tell you that patterns and addictions are just about the same thing. Once you get into a routine anything outside of your proscribed actions becomes foreign and therefore ... So somehow I'd come into this strange idea that she’s the one for me. At least in part. At least right now. I guess I formed that conclusion based, primarily, on how hard it was to leave her and her prevalence in my thoughts. Now, anyone can tell you that patterns and addictions are just about the same thing. Once you get into a routine anything outside of your proscribed actions becomes foreign and therefore threatening. Different is the anti-same. Having settled so seamlessly into her, the thought of losing that closeness and comfort was almost unbearable. I had come to need her. I'd developed a bit of a dependence on her affection and affirmation which, when it was first offered up was, I'll admit, most sorely needed. Emboldened by this attention, I began to create new inroads into the dense and seemingly impenetrable facade of my future, inroads chosen, in part, to recreate my person as someone she might find even more desirable.

The fact that she could value my company at all seemed a small miracle, especially when viewed in concert with her intrinsic beauty, intelligence and grace. She was, simply put, one of the most amazing creatures I'd ever met. Hell, I'd known that in college. That someone so fundamentally exquisite might find something worthwhile in me invited a closer examination of my personal inventory. I found scraps of things long abandoned and forgotten, bits of other lifetimes, minor triumphs and well turned phrases and strange and humorous monologues that lasted well into the night. In her I found a confidant and in me, stories to confide. In her I found a sounding board and in me, something to say. In her I found a lover, and in me, well, something to love.

And, oh, how wonderful it felt to let her love me. The way she smoothed my hair and read to me set my soul at ease. She cared for me like a mother and laughed with me like a child and I took it all without embarrassment or shame, because it was pure and it was honest and it was real. Finally I found myself free of my power-struggles. I didn't have to be bigger or stronger or older or smarter, I could cry, I could be afraid or hurt, I could be held. With her I felt so safe. Wrapped up in her arms, her breath in my hair, mine against her neck, her heart beating beneath me, the world was so far away. All my fears were groundless in the face of her reason, and her touch.

Bolstered by this confidence, at first hers in me then, slowly, mine in myself again, a plan began to form. A plan, I think now, truest to my own nature. A plan to roam as far as I dared. A plan, simply, to go. At first I hadn't even considered the fact that going meant leaving and part of what I'd be leaving was her. I suppose I couldn't truly conceive of the magnitude of what I might do, or my feelings for her. She began to make me so happy when I was with her that the next day without her plunged me into despair. Each time we came together I almost cried with the fear it would be the last time. And I don't think it out of place to say that I have never had a comparable physical connection to anyone, at times our intimacy seemed almost transcendent, to the point that surface and sense became one in the same. I can still feel her now, all these miles away, feel each curve and jut, each arc and flex, feel the shifting terrain of her body, feel inside her, watch the shape of me engulfed by her and, at the same time, feel myself devouring her.

R remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> My Resume tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-24:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=23&entryid=28852 2006-10-24T21:08:15Z 2006-10-24T21:08:15Z KIMBERLY PAULUS Coffee Slinger (extrordinaire) *(347) 678-1999 YOU WANT TO HIRE ME BECAUSE I’M A hard worker new to Salt Lake City with an almost irrisistable charm and some halfway decent skills in the kitchen, too. YOU KNOW I KNOW WHAT I’M DOING BECAUSE I’VE WORKED: At the Ash Box CaféA neighborhood coffee shop at 1154 Manhattan Ave. Brooklyn, NY. 11211 Where I slung coffee all day long, prepared espresso drinks, made eggs, sandwiches of the traditional and hot pressed variety, served ... KIMBERLY PAULUS
Coffee Slinger (extrordinaire) *(347) 678-1999

YOU WANT TO HIRE ME BECAUSE I’M

A hard worker new to Salt Lake City with an almost irrisistable charm and some halfway decent skills in the kitchen, too.

YOU KNOW I KNOW WHAT I’M DOING BECAUSE I’VE WORKED:

At the Ash Box CaféA neighborhood coffee shop at 1154 Manhattan Ave. Brooklyn, NY. 11211
Where I slung coffee all day long, prepared espresso drinks, made eggs, sandwiches of the traditional and hot pressed variety, served salads, soups and some pretty awesome daily and weekend brunch specials.
March ’06 to October ‘06

At Rene Pujol RestaurantAn upscale French restaurant in the Theater District of Manhattan
Where I began as an apprentice, learning each station of the French Culinary Brigade. I was trained in Garde Manger, the salad, desert and cold appetizer station, then the poissonier station where I prepped, cooked and plated fish entrees. I was offered a full-time positon but decided to travel instead.
March ’06 to August ‘06

At least 11 years in the field of Mental Retardation/Developmental Disabilities. In my final job in the field I was a Coordinator of Adult Day Services with a company called QSAC (Quaility Services for the Autistic Community). Before that I was the Assistant Supervisor at two residential facilities with YAI/NIPD (Young Adult Institute/National Institute for People with Disabilities). I can give you info and references if you’d like, I just needed to get out of the field.

EDUCATION
I got my B.A. (with honors) in Psychology from Wagner College, Staten Island, New York. I double minored in Philisophy and Religion. I spent a year At California Lutheran University during my undergrad and spent a semester abroad in India, studying Buddhism through Antioch College in Ohio. I graduated in 2002.

INTERESTS
Long walks on the beach, deep conversation, finding a job.

My Resume remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> People in Colorado tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-24:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=22&entryid=28847 2006-10-24T20:19:35Z 2006-10-24T20:19:35Z Or rather they do, they’re just thin and weathered, as if the wind from the mountains inverted them. And they’re drier than we are on the coast. Proximity to the ocean changes people. The closest of us get brined. We live a rough life in the elements, drink rum, eat fish, know it’s salt that runs in our veins. Those farther away know sky and rock and feel the hum of us all in the dry ... Or rather they do, they’re just thin and weathered, as if the wind from the mountains inverted them. And they’re drier than we are on the coast. Proximity to the ocean changes people. The closest of us get brined. We live a rough life in the elements, drink rum, eat fish, know it’s salt that runs in our veins. Those farther away know sky and rock and feel the hum of us all in the dry thin air. We are bleached out and tanned and polished by the wind while the others, they’re freeze-dried, their colors in tact but weightless. It’s the salt you see, the mother we never had, calling to us into the crash of the waves. Stepping into the ocean is coming home. Climb a mountain, you’re ascending to the sky. Curvaceous they may be but mothers they are not. They are cold and powerful and can eat you alive. In the mountains, exposure is real in a way it could never be in marshland. 5 below and snowing still amongst the pines and birches and laurels is cold but pretty. Out here, you can freeze to death on a sunny day. There is something vast in this wilderness that feels like swimming so far out into the ocean you know if you swim any farther you won’t make it back. You see your own death. You see real defeat. You see the world as it is; so much bigger than yourself. You see your own mortality. And you see wizened folk without any lips and you think to yourself, God, I miss New York.

People in Colorado remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> Biking In Utah tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-24:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=21&entryid=28844 2006-10-24T20:15:28Z 2006-10-24T20:15:28Z You turn around and realize you’re half way up a freakin mountain! Oh, and how the hell you can ride 15 (uh, well, they’re not exactly) blocks one way and then have to ride 52 and a half to get back to where you started?!? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Go Utah! ... You turn around and realize you’re half way up a freakin mountain!

Oh, and how the hell you can ride 15 (uh, well, they’re not exactly) blocks one way and then have to ride 52 and a half to get back to where you started?!? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Go Utah!

Biking In Utah remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> A messege to Anna tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-24:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=20&entryid=28842 2006-10-24T20:13:03Z 2006-10-24T20:13:03Z My friend Anna has one of the best voicemail prompts ever. In it she says the usual, you missed her, leave a message, etc. Then she asks her callers to tell her something wonderful that happened to them the day of their call because it would make the her smile and maybe the caller as well. Anna is some kind of wonderful herself and, halfway through Wyoming I did a little thinking on the nature of wonderful ... My friend Anna has one of the best voicemail prompts ever. In it she says the usual, you missed her, leave a message, etc. Then she asks her callers to tell her something wonderful that happened to them the day of their call because it would make the her smile and maybe the caller as well. Anna is some kind of wonderful herself and, halfway through Wyoming I did a little thinking on the nature of wonderful things.

“Hey, it’s me, I’m in Wyoming, as in ‘No, really, why- oming?’ It’s snowing like you would not believe and here I am in the middle of it all. Why, oming, did I come this way? This is, in and of itself, somewhat wonderful though. If you consider wonderful to be a word describing something which is full of wonder, inasmuch as something which is awful is full of or has the capacity to awe. And if we consider something awful as something having the capacity to awe, I then, am wonderful. As in wondering if I’ll ever get the hell out of Wyoming, which is pretty awful right now. Call me back. Bye.”

A messege to Anna remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> Polar Bears and Jesus tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-21:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=19&entryid=28428 2006-10-22T00:12:47Z 2006-10-22T00:12:47Z I've been having strange dreams. I think it's because there's been a lot to process and my subconscious is feeling deprived of that sweet, sweet nectar of oblivion I call PBR. For these and other various reasons though, I've been having particularly vivid dreams. I dreampt, for instance, the other night of lying with a beautiful woman on the beach. She was wearing a bikini. We were having a lovely time. The beach, however, was ... I've been having strange dreams. I think it's because there's been a lot to process and my subconscious is feeling deprived of that sweet, sweet nectar of oblivion I call PBR. For these and other various reasons though, I've been having particularly vivid dreams.

I dreampt, for instance, the other night of lying with a beautiful woman on the beach. She was wearing a bikini. We were having a lovely time. The beach, however, was made of clouds. They tasted of fog and cotton and sat roughly in one's throat but were otherwise beautiful. Above the clouds we could see a mountain top or two, somewhere in the east was a golden grecian temple, or something, my companion was suitably distracting such that I didn't much notice.

All of a sudden a polar bear began to approach us. I went over to my counterpart and put my arms around her as we stood looking at the polar bear and trying to come up with a plan. Then, behind us we saw Jesus and, as if by magic we remembered some wilderness survival techniques. We put our arms up over our heads and stood up tall to look as big as we could. We clapped our hands and yelled and, I'll tell you, it worked. We scared Jesus away.

The end.

Polar Bears and Jesus remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> A different site for pictures tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-21:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=14&entryid=27227 2006-10-22T00:42:42Z 2006-10-21T23:20:17Z HEY! Y'all, wanna see some of what I've been talking about? Okay then, go to Flickr.com. I've got an account there, it's under Padma_Sri_00. Wow, that really sounds like some generic scam letter, huh? Maybe I should write copy for Flickr. It's really my pictures though. See the first and last of Wayne (rest in peace, little plant). See mountains and valleys, lakes and wild life, see me, sleeping in my car. Good ... HEY! Y'all, wanna see some of what I've been talking about? Okay then, go to Flickr.com. I've got an account there, it's under Padma_Sri_00. Wow, that really sounds like some generic scam letter, huh? Maybe I should write copy for Flickr. It's really my pictures though. See the first and last of Wayne (rest in peace, little plant). See mountains and valleys, lakes and wild life, see me, sleeping in my car. Good stuff. Go there.


http://www.flickr.com/photos/74245328@N00/

A different site for pictures remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> It's been a while tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-21:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=18&entryid=28426 2006-10-21T23:06:08Z 2006-10-21T23:06:08Z Okay. So. Looking at a map and talking to people it seemed that the easiest way to get from colorado to utah is on Route 80. That would mean less wear and tear on ol' Seth (the mountains weren't terribly kind to him, he got a little short of breath from time to time) and some interesting things to see (hot springs, flaming gorges-I know, it sounded funny to me too, that's why I wanted to see ... Okay. So. Looking at a map and talking to people it seemed that the easiest way to get from colorado to utah is on Route 80. That would mean less wear and tear on ol' Seth (the mountains weren't terribly kind to him, he got a little short of breath from time to time) and some interesting things to see (hot springs, flaming gorges-I know, it sounded funny to me too, that's why I wanted to see it. So, and yes, you can call upon my legendary lack of forethought on this one, I tear outta Colorado on Tuesday under a somewhat imposing slate grey sky. The kind of sky that smells like iron. The kind of sky that spits down snow at a moment's notice. Yep. I said the S word. As I'm leaving Boulder, the flakes begin in earnest. There's a lovely smell of pine and smoke and frost in the air and I'm kinda lovin life, glad to be in a car with heat (even though I've left the window open to help Seth keep fog free without straining his heating system too much). So, there I am, driving along with my windows open and my hat on in a car with the ability to produce heat which is almost as good as driving along in a car with the heat on. Now, my plan is to take this 8 hour trip in two parts, one, seeing the Saratoga Hot Springs and finding somewhere to camp (yeah, I wanted to spend the night nestled deep inside the flaming gorge. What?) and then continue on to Utah in the morning. Except that's not what happened.

Oh Forethought. Forethought might have checked the weather report. Forethought is dead to me.

As I come out of the mountains I'm expecting the snow to stop, the weather to warm, the skies to clear. NO DICE. The snow picks up. It gets worse. It startst to stick. I pull over in Cheyenne and get the oh-so-sage advice, "Stoppin ain't gonna help ya. Whachu gotta do is git out the mountains, ouddair past Laramie'll stoppov snowin an yul bein utaw fore you knows it." Give or take. Seeing as I'd be finding no shortage conversation with this fine gentleman but eager to get on my way, I curteously cut our conversation short with an nod and something akin to "Aye-uh, s'pose yerright," and got on my way.

Holy Crap, was THAT a bad idea.

I'd been drivin with about 6 feet of visibility for a bit, thinking I was on dry roads, thinking I was fine, watching Semis all along the side of the road like some kind of dinosaur graveyard when I pass by a recent accident. I see this tractor-trailor flipped upside-down and sideways so the cargo area's on top of the cab. AND THIS GUY JUST GETS OUT! I slow down to see if anyone needs any help but there's already a trucker with a cell phone. The thing is, I get down to about 30 and I stat to fishtail a little. Now I grew up drivin in the snow so it's not such a big deal, just the same I decide to stop, my windshield wipers are frozen anyway and I've got wiper fluid frozen in big blue blocks right at my dashboard. I pull over on the shoulder, now completely covered in a few inches of snow and I get out of the car. Well, one step away from Mr. Seth and my feet start to go out from under me. The road's a two inch thick sheet of pure freakin ICE! I'd been drivin 60 miles an hour on a goddamned SKATING POND! That's when I saw what's still been sticking with me in my dreams. These two trucks come barreling down the road next to one another. One goes to pass the other when it hits a skid. Fast as they're goin, this truck ends up sideways, plowing down the highway perpendicular to the pavement for what must have been 80 feet. The driver manages to right his rig and instead of slowing down or pulling off, DOES IT AGAIN. That's when I knew I had to get off the road.

Okay, I've been here way too long, this one'll have to be continued.

It's been a while remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> Brief update tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-16:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=17&entryid=27670 2006-10-16T07:15:06Z 2006-10-16T07:15:06Z Hi all and welcome back to another edition of Insomniac Musical Theater. Tonight we'll be performing a selection of whale song set to the sly and sultry rythm of the washing machine. That's right folks, it's officially too late for me. This weekend in the mountains was damn near too much to think about. I'll unpack it a bit as I pack up my car and head... to Utah? Yeah, y'all read that right, ... Hi all and welcome back to another edition of Insomniac Musical Theater. Tonight we'll be performing a selection of whale song set to the sly and sultry rythm of the washing machine. That's right folks, it's officially too late for me. This weekend in the mountains was damn near too much to think about. I'll unpack it a bit as I pack up my car and head... to Utah? Yeah, y'all read that right, ol' Kimmy's headed to Mormon country. Hey, who knows, maybe I'll find myself a nice couple and settle down for a spell. I'll keep you posted. G'night!

Brief update remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> Now where the hell did I leave the damn thing? tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-13:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=15&entryid=27229 2006-10-14T03:35:59Z 2006-10-14T03:35:59Z Forgot my white vegetable peeler. Forgot to pack this shirt I wanted to return. Neglected to grab these cds I got before I left and, damn it to hell, left my heart. Looked all over for the damn thing and, wouldn't you know it, it's not here. Think I left it back in New York. Hope you're happy now. Hope it's chewin all your furniture. Take good care of it, I'll be back ... Forgot my white vegetable peeler. Forgot to pack this shirt I wanted to return. Neglected to grab these cds I got before I left and, damn it to hell, left my heart. Looked all over for the damn thing and, wouldn't you know it, it's not here. Think I left it back in New York.

Hope you're happy now.

Hope it's chewin all your furniture.

Take good care of it, I'll be back for it someday...

Now where the hell did I leave the damn thing? remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> Last time Friday the 13th happened in October tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-11:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=13&entryid=27225 2006-10-12T06:41:25Z 2006-10-12T06:41:25Z So, the last time there was a Friday the 13th in October (and I remember this distinctly) was in 2000. There was a full moon too. I remember this information because it was auspicious. Sri. Loosely (very loosely) translated, that's what it means. The reason I remember this particularly auspicious occasion is because on Friday, the 13th of October, 2000, beneath a full moon and under the Bodi tree (a direct descendent of the ... So, the last time there was a Friday the 13th in October (and I remember this distinctly) was in 2000. There was a full moon too. I remember this information because it was auspicious. Sri. Loosely (very loosely) translated, that's what it means. The reason I remember this particularly auspicious occasion is because on Friday, the 13th of October, 2000, beneath a full moon and under the Bodi tree (a direct descendent of the tree under which the Buddha is believed to have finally achieved enlightenment) I was ordained as a Buddhist nun. My head was shaved, I was given my orange robes and the name Padma Sri. Essentially that means auspicious lotus, give or take, the deeper symbolism of the name is just a little more personal than I think I'll go into here.

Tomorrow I'm heading up into the mountains with the people who first taught me compassion and the art of being gentle within the world. Somehow I have the feeling this weekend may well be terribly auspicious as well. And y'all thought Friday the 13th was just for horror movies.

Post Script: I would just like to point out that I was ordained in the Theravada Buddhist tradition. Not ZEN!

Last time Friday the 13th happened in October remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> Colorado's kicking my ass tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-11:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=12&entryid=27207 2006-10-12T06:25:46Z 2006-10-12T03:35:16Z Ladies and gentlemen, let me be the first to tell you this whole mile-high thing does some funky stuff to you're head and your body. I got winded biking up an incline. I'd barely call it a hill. It was such a slight change in elevation, as a matter of fact, that it might have been a hole. I don't know. The point was I had to get off my bike and actually work at ... Ladies and gentlemen, let me be the first to tell you this whole mile-high thing does some funky stuff to you're head and your body. I got winded biking up an incline. I'd barely call it a hill. It was such a slight change in elevation, as a matter of fact, that it might have been a hole. I don't know. The point was I had to get off my bike and actually work at catching my breath. As a former pack-a-day smoker, I can tell you, it takes a lot to feel that emphysematous and, you know what folks? Boulder's got it. Yeah, yeah, it's got a great view and lots of cute little shops and scenic bike paths and stuff, too. What good is it though if you suffer from bouts of spontanous apoplexy? None. There you have it. I fought the altitude and... well, I just feel kinda sick now.

Colorado's kicking my ass remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> Forethought tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-11:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=11&entryid=27150 2006-10-11T17:13:18Z 2006-10-11T17:13:18Z Once upon a time it was brought to my attention that forsight was a virtue I lacked. To wit- wandering out so far into the California foothills one night that I had to call my roommate to pick me up. In fact, it was then that my particular deficit was made known to me. One would assume that I would have adapted, at this point, to this peculiarity as I have to my inability to retain short ... Once upon a time it was brought to my attention that forsight was a virtue I lacked. To wit- wandering out so far into the California foothills one night that I had to call my roommate to pick me up. In fact, it was then that my particular deficit was made known to me.

One would assume that I would have adapted, at this point, to this peculiarity as I have to my inability to retain short term memory (my wallet, if nothing else, is meticulously organized, see also, at times, my pants pockets) but, sadly, I have fabricated no evolutionary or organizational mechanism for this dilema.

Case in point. I do not know the proper assembly for my rainfly. Now, in case you were wondering, a rainfly is the part of the tent you use in the rain in order to keep dry, it's got a flap that covers the doors to the tent as well as the mesh part on top. A proper rain fly keeps rain out. You can now see why the proper assembly thereof is integral to a good night's sleep on a dreary, dismal, freezing cold night like the one I just spent in Nebraska.

Suffice it to say that one oughtn't go camping in Nebraska in October in the rain without a little thought put into how exactly one is going to be sheltered. I woke up around 3:30 with my feet numb in a small puddle that had already soaked the bottom of my blankets.

Perhaps here, though, we can see that I do, in fact, posess a powerful tool in the fight against my lack of forethought: Innovation. That's right. I climbed back in my car, tied my pajama bottoms into knots to make feetie pajamas in hopes of salvaging my toes in the morning and curled up under my coats, shivering and waiting for sleep, or morning, or something.

That's when I saw it. A few drops of water glistening on the windshield, caught precariously in the predawn light, and, you know what? They were the prettiest stars I'd ever seen.

Take that lack of forethought!

Forethought remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> Purpose Vs. Ambition tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-11:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=10&entryid=27145 2006-10-11T16:47:46Z 2006-10-11T16:47:46Z Today i realized I'm out here not necessarily because i want to cook. That was a thing for a bit I guess, maybe still is, the reason I'm out here though is because I don't know what I'm doing and there's nothing i want to do but nothing isn't an acceptable career goal. Annemarie's in grad school and teaching and doing all sorts of academic stuff. She said I was a product of post moderninst culture. Not ... Today i realized I'm out here not necessarily because i want to cook. That was a thing for a bit I guess, maybe still is, the reason I'm out here though is because I don't know what I'm doing and there's nothing i want to do but nothing isn't an acceptable career goal. Annemarie's in grad school and teaching and doing all sorts of academic stuff. She said I was a product of post moderninst culture. Not only did I not quite catch her reference, I realized I didn't want to. I am not the academic. another door is shut for me. I had thought, a long time ago, that I'd make a damn good college professor. Now I wouldn't. I'm not what you'd call deep, at least not analytically, at least not anymore. Sort of sad, all that intellect and nothing to do with it. Maybe I was misdiagnosed as a child. Maybe there's nothing remarkable about me at all and I can actually live a mediocre existence and be okay with that. Then again, I suppose I'm asking these questions so I'm doomed to a life far different from even the most defectively inquisitive mongoloid. All that aside though, I would just like to point out that I've got NOTHIN goin for me. Not that it's a bad thing, it's just a wonder I've managed to come to this point.

I lack direction and that makes me sad. I've come to realize that direction and ambition go hand and hand at some points in one's life and to abandon one, one is abandoned by the other. I'm not sure I can live without purpose and waking up in Boulder, with a roof over my head and a couch under my ass an warm, dry blankets enough to keep the frostbite at bay, I was struck with one fundamental truth. I have no purpose. It's devastating. I don't know what to do today. Sure, I need to go out and find a way to make money but, beyond that? Money isn't a purpose. Any ideas? Anyone? Please?!?

The first half of this entry is taken from a terribly sleepy email I started writing last night (I nodded off writing it, as a matter of fact)

Purpose Vs. Ambition remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> Radio out there tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-11:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=9&entryid=27107 2006-10-11T17:16:28Z 2006-10-11T16:36:25Z Two things about this trip had me more excited than anything else. One was regional beef jerky. The other, local radio. I know, I know, most of you are cringing right now, especially as I go on to tell you how, not only do I have a penchant for local radio, I really like local talk radio. By and large my favorite radio, though, has to be country. The second I got outside the city ... Two things about this trip had me more excited than anything else.

One was regional beef jerky.

The other, local radio.

I know, I know, most of you are cringing right now, especially as I go on to tell you how, not only do I have a penchant for local radio, I really like local talk radio. By and large my favorite radio, though, has to be country. The second I got outside the city I hit my seek button and, sure enough, there it was, the golden, dulcit intonations of Alan Jackson, Alabama and Wynona. Oh, banjo, sweet, sweet steel guitar, how I've missed you in my exile.

Within the first hour I'd heard that song Rosemary and I listened to my last full day in the city. 3 times. Then I heard the other 2 songs. That exist. In all the universe. Twice. In time, the monotony got to me and I started changing the station. I listened to Rush Limbaugh. I REALLY liked the guy. No, wait, that was him, HE really liked the... anyway, yeah. At some point, I think it was in Indiana, I had an opinion so I had to change the station. Then, somewhere outside of illinois, I began listening to Christian Radio. In all fairness though, I started listening to it because I thought it was Prairie Home Companion, you know how dry that Garrison Keillor can be from time to time. Just when I began to get the idea that I wasn't listening to an especially tedious Guy Noir set up, it happened. Jesus. Just like that. That's how they get you you know.

Anyway, that got me thinking about religion, just a bit, and how I'm pretty much in the perfect position to be saved right now. Come on, don't tell me you didn't see this one coming. Aimlessly casting about, engaging in reckless, directionless undertakings in the hope that, someday, somewhere, things will be better? I'm just screaming for God in my life. Or something else. Pretty much anything would do right now (NOT ZEN). And that's pretty much the thing, whether I get drunk and fall into the arms of a moderately attractive girl, seek out old friends who feel more like family or turn to some kind of higher power, I'm just resting my hat for a bit. The real question I've got to deal with, I think maybe we've all got to deal with ultimately, is: Why's the hat so damned heavy to begin with?

Radio out there remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> Iowa tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-11:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=8&entryid=27103 2006-10-11T07:09:40Z 2006-10-11T07:09:40Z Dar Williams wrote a song called Iowa that starts out I've never had a way with women but the hills of iowa make of wish that I could. now, from my car, watching iowa undulate all around me, i can see where She's coming from. one has to wonder though if the hypnotic rolling landscape, the intoxicating scents of fertil land and seasonal surplus, the way the brisk morning air embraces you like your most familiar lover, if ... Dar Williams wrote a song called Iowa that starts out I've never had a
way with women but the hills of iowa make of wish that I could. now,
from my car, watching iowa undulate all around me, i can see where She's
coming from. one has to wonder though if the hypnotic rolling
landscape, the intoxicating scents of fertil land and seasonal surplus, the way
the brisk morning air embraces you like your most familiar lover, if
all this is just the magic of travel. a small illusion of speed and
distance, the drunken love at first sight that seems like such a good idea
at the time. here's to iowa, i certainly hope she looks as good when
her spell's worn off.

sorry, wrote this on my cell phone, maybe I'll fix it up a little later.

Iowa remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> And So It's Begun! tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-07:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=7&entryid=26694 2006-10-08T01:20:43Z 2006-10-08T01:20:43Z This morning The clouds were a wool blanket, Rough and too close to breathe. This afternoon, Gentle snowcapped peaks fading into wispy swirls. Then, Mere hints of a november morning til, Finally, West-bound enough, Bright blue spilled like water, Drowning this burnt-autumn landscape and I, Drenched in sunlight, Turned my face up To laugh. So, I guess it's begun. I find myself sitting at a rest stop in Ohio, just a few miles west of Toledo. ... This morning
The clouds were a wool blanket,
Rough and too close to breathe.
This afternoon,
Gentle snowcapped peaks fading into wispy swirls.
Then,
Mere hints of a november morning til,
Finally,
West-bound enough,
Bright blue spilled like water,
Drowning this burnt-autumn landscape and I,
Drenched in sunlight,
Turned my face up
To laugh.

So, I guess it's begun. I find myself sitting at a rest stop in Ohio, just a few miles west of Toledo. Why Toledo, you ask? Well, my favorite Aunt always used to say "Holy Toledo", at least around my sister and I, so I figured, why not? Yeah, so maybe the full exclamation wasn't exactly "Holy Toledo... Ohio!" but you can't always have it all now can you.

I've been driving all day so I just might be a little loopy at this point but I've reached a state of road exhaustion that could only be described as ANYTHING BUT ZEN!!! (See my earlier post if that seems unnecessarily capitalized.) I've taken a whole lot of pictures on a camera that probably doesn't work and Wayne looks a whole lot worse for the wear, as a matter of fact, I think he's dying. Wayne is my cactus, by the by, I don't know if it was yesterday's cold, Thursday's heat or Wednesday's glue. Poor Wayne, too bad for him I'm just not cut out for commitment.

The Poconos were right pretty, I must say, all foliage-y and all. Then the color sort of dropped off, in favor of local color, I guess, as I got into Ohio. Home of... nothing apparently. Pretty unremarkable so far. Got through Cleveland sans disaster though so, rock on, as far as I'm concerned. May fortune smile upon me in the future as it has today. I do hope one day to add a side note: BAD THINGS HAPPEN IN CLEVELAND. It just seems too close for comfort now though, I mean <stage whisper> it's right behind me! Now comes the fun task of finding where to sleep. This well lit parking lot seems nice enough, that and it's about my only option because, and this one deserves it's own paragraph:

I know how I am going to die. Narcolepsy. That's it. You know, I'll just be driving along, do do-do and all of a sudden, a dream sequence will break in and they'll find me all mangled on the side of the road somewhere, head resting serenely atop my gently folded hands, silvery filament of drool snaking down my chin.... yeah. That or A.D.D.. You know it's bad when you're looking out the window and enjoying the beautiful scenery, trying to identify the road kill and then you realize you're driving. In fact, you're the only one in the car so there's no way you couldn't be driving, you've been driving for the past 500 miles and you just kind of FORGOT because there was something shiny on the side of the road. Who the hell let me do this?!? This was not a good idea! I shouldn't even have my license. I don't remember getting my license. Oh my god, I'm that guy from Memento, why didn't anyone tell me? Wait, maybe you did tell me. Maybe you told me and I didn't believe you because I couldn't remember who you were. Who are you? And why are you reading this?!? Oh, oh, no, for the love of God, leave me alone!!!

Or maybe I'll die of natural causes, like getting brained by a rock thrown from a riding lawn mower. And if that's what going to happen, my money says it happens in Cleveland.

And So It's Begun! remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> Grey day tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-06:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=6&entryid=26626 2006-10-07T00:53:31Z 2006-10-07T00:53:31Z When I finally went outside today, the sky was grey and low, like it was going to snow. I'd been sitting inside all day feeling sorry for myself so I was cold and a bit on the achy side. There I was, outside, on this cold, grey, achy day when I saw this black-eyed susan and I thought how everything about her is beauty and light and here I am, somewhere dismal and bleak without her. And ... When I finally went outside today, the sky was grey and low, like it was going to snow. I'd been sitting inside all day feeling sorry for myself so I was cold and a bit on the achy side. There I was, outside, on this cold, grey, achy day when I saw this black-eyed susan and I thought how everything about her is beauty and light and here I am, somewhere dismal and bleak without her. And the tears started to catch in my throat. I got halfway to my car with my jaw clenched tight and my eyes narrowed against the perpetual flood of grief, when I realized: I could see the sky. And I looked around and I saw the clouds, low and grey, sloping down to hills with houses carved into them and roads crisscrossing the thick green flesh as far as my weepy little eyes could see and I thought: This is only New Jersey!

You have my heart.

Grey day remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> getting back to that buddhist thing tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-10-06:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=5&entryid=26583 2006-10-06T19:07:07Z 2006-10-06T19:07:07Z So, as I was saying, this undertaking has been labeled "zen" by some and that couldn't be farther from the truth. The fact is, this is the stupidest, most frenetic, out of control thing I've ever done. SO not zen! People think I'm abandoning all my belongings. In reality, I've packed everything I own into a chevy. People think, I don't know, I'll be medititating the whole time or something, like I'll just throw my ... So, as I was saying, this undertaking has been labeled "zen" by some and that couldn't be farther from the truth. The fact is, this is the stupidest, most frenetic, out of control thing I've ever done. SO not zen! People think I'm abandoning all my belongings. In reality, I've packed everything I own into a chevy. People think, I don't know, I'll be medititating the whole time or something, like I'll just throw my car on cruise control, sit all full-lotus on my zabuton (which is totally in the back seat, thank you very much) and just go out there chanting "OM" the whole damn way. Yeah, not so much.
Okay, so, I'll admit, a good part of this endeavor is an attempt to crush this insane drive to succeed. That's right, my goal is failure or, okay, no it's not. Really, though, my goal is to not have a goal and I guess, after all, that is a little bit zen. And impossible. Didja catch that? My goal is to not have a goal. No wonder I'm having such a hard time. I'm working on not getting so wrapped up in where I'm going that I sabotage where I am. There have been a number of occasions as of late where I've gotten so worked up that I was experiencing something for the last time that I've actually ruined the experience. No one wants your coffee when you're crying.
So what's a late twenty-something chick to do with herself when she's realized she's spent several years on an accidental career only to find herself adrift in seemingly endless possibility, none of which are remotely appealing? Well, simple: try as hard as she can to eradicate the desire and competitiveness that drove her to that accidental career in the first place. I mean, really, what is this need for success than an attempt to fill some deep chasm within ourselves? Some self-aggrandizing pile construction so that one can climb all the way up to the tipity top and shout to everyone around, "look how good I did."? I mean, I don't want to feel like a failure, in and of myself or in front of other people either but I'm begining to think that maybe it's not my job (or current lack thereof) that determines whether or not people see me as such. I mean, what if I'm more than my job, more than who I'm sleeping with, more than my apartment (hope so, I don't have one) or my car? Then I suppose that means I'll have to work on myself, you know, wear more makeup or something. That and start taking life one day at a time. Or, maybe, a bit more to the point, one mile at a time. I'm off tomorrow morning, wish me luck, or unending prosperity.

getting back to that buddhist thing remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]> Why this isn't an existential ,buddhist, nihilistic venture tag:travellerspoint.com,2006-09-26:/blog/?domain=kim-paulus&thisblog_entryid=4&entryid=25389 2006-09-26T20:16:27Z 2006-09-26T20:16:27Z If I may, for a moment, adopt this idea of bipolarity (one, I must say, which has seemed most fitting as of late) I must then extend it to it's logical conclusion, as one is wont to do, and report that my life is nothing more than a pendulous riccochet between two opposing (but equally compelling) ends of some ginourmous, all encompassing spectrum. Take, for instance, my undertaking. Could there be a better example of dichotomy? ... If I may, for a moment, adopt this idea of bipolarity (one, I must say, which has seemed most fitting as of late) I must then extend it to it's logical conclusion, as one is wont to do, and report that my life is nothing more than a pendulous riccochet between two opposing (but equally compelling) ends of some ginourmous, all encompassing spectrum. Take, for instance, my undertaking. Could there be a better example of dichotomy? Having narrowly escaped the domestic riggeurs, the daily drudgery, the 9-5 world of suits, surreptitious subservience and such strenuously sought after (albeit pitifully modest) success, I experienced what you might call a yang hangover, leading, presumably, to a yin rebound. Right. Thus I was left, quite naturally, with a yen for the road. Having had, always, a tendency to la vie hobo, I feel I must go where no sane cooker of things has gone since the day of the chuck wagon. And even then, that was a damned wagon, I mean really, who ever heard of a chuck chevy?!? The real problem here, though is not one of logistics. I mean, really, when has a logistical problem ever felled a truly great idea? The problem at hand currently is how best to act on an idea so obviously conceived in a time of complete and utter mania when one is knee deep in the self doubt and groundless amotivation that accompanies such a radical swing of emotions. When crossing the street engenders a feeling of dread, how is one supposed to go cross country?
She just does. That's all. She just effin does.

Sometimes it's necessary to do the craziest thing you can think to do, if only to keep yourself sane.

Why this isn't an existential ,buddhist, nihilistic venture remains copyright of the author Kim Paulus, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

Comment on this entry | Tweet this | Your own free travel blog | More Travellerspoint blogs

]]>