Category Archives: Belgium Year three
From Guam with love
I once again apologize for not posting in awhile. I’ve had so much I intended to share, but none of it feels quite right today.
So, instead, I’m going off track (but I promise I’ll get back to the fun bits next time around): For whatever reason, I feel the need to share glimpses of the people who raised me. All three of my parents were children in Europe during WW2. My biological parents were in different parts of Germany — my mother from the north, my father from the south (neither of them Jewish, which provided them with a privilege too many were denied). My stepfather, who legally adopted me (and whose name is still part of my own), lived in the Italian alps. They all witnessed and experienced things young me could never understand, but that didn’t stop them from sharing stories about bodies in rivers, soldiers on meat hooks, or a phobia of lightning because it brought back the blitzkriegs. Their formative years were malnourished. They grew to be adults in the aftermath of war under the suffocating tarp of guilt and blame. All three of them had their own reasons for immigrating to America: their common denominator was the American dream. Like our founding fathers, they escaped their past to build their version of a better future.
Unfortunately, since they never truly acknowledged or processed their trauma, they did not fully grow past it. They brought with them the hurt, the blame, and a skewed sense of what was right and what was wrong. They not only denied some ugly truths, but they also embraced them as normal.
All three of them drank too much. My biological father also loved the drugs, and quite frankly he loved to hate. All three philandered (how hungry they were for love and how inept they were at knowing what it truly was). They had this driving force to succeed, equating it with things and accolades, not really knowing what they truly needed to feel successful. They lived loudly — in laughter and insults. Our home was always so full of food and noise — fun and fights.
They continually reminded we children of how lucky we were — and of how spoiled and ungrateful we were (and, yeah, that bit was true). They bought us so much, all the new that the 70s and 80s provided, and then, I think, they’d be overwhelmed at how truly blessed we were to be born into this childhood. It brought out petty behaviors I didn’t understand and a distrust for us, as if we were the enemy. I sometimes hoped for a war, so that I could prove to my parents that I had what it took to get through it — and I would not be as angry or unfair or whatever it was that I didn’t like as them. I’d come through it with a hero’s halo because I’d be the light that saved my loved ones.
What a weird thing for little me to imagine — and I now wonder if little them had hoped to do the same.
My fathers have passed, and my mother has moved on to her new phase in life. She’s found Jesus and is focused on the goings on of her church. The last time we spoke (which has been a long while ago), her view of tolerance and forgiveness was not quite what I envision those words to mean, but perhaps she is on the path that will bring more peace and love into her life. I truly do wish that for her.
I share these bits of sepia because in some ways I’m finding them metaphorical for my country.
We are most certainly at a time where mistakes of the past are quickly molding what our tomorrow might be. Our present reminds me of my parents fighting over things that were excuses or lies that shielded truths they chose to ignore. Sure they found their way through businesses, homes, nice things, but oh my goodness there was also a lot of damage along the way. Their children, with mixed results, are long past childhood carving their way through adulthood. Two of us have debilitating mental health issues while three of us lead seemingly normal lives (not to say there is no fuckupedness). There are more of us, but we’ve led separate lives since birth (philandering comes at a cost).
There is also much to admire about my parents. They dared to take risks and go beyond what was expected of them. They explored. They questioned. They hoped. They persevered. And, in their war-torn way, they loved. They did not want to wound their children, nor is that all that they passed on to us. Our strengths are also a continuation of theirs.
My stepfather, who gave up his citizenship to become American, demanded that my siblings and I do the work, that we learn all sides of an issue, that we know our history and our constitution. He abandoned his country for ours because he believed our government was designed to protect its people — especially from its own people (his native country, by anti example, taught him the value of that). He was not the most open-minded or accepting person, but I cannot imagine him supporting the way our country is going. He respected our institutions and expected them to abide by our laws and doctrine (not because he trusted people, but because he trusted our checks and balances). He believed that our foundation was built to protect us from ourselves.
I agree with my parents that I was incredibly lucky to be born into the life they made for us (despite all that I did not understand). I’ve been given, and earned, so much worth treasuring. I most certainly no longer wish for war to prove my worth (why do we attribute battling violence to heroics?). The beauty in my childhood was never in the fight; it was always around the table when we ate amazing meals and laughed because of our wit.
We are such an odd society that bans and pulls together, that marvels and laughs, but then turns on itself. It’s like we just can’t allow ourselves to truly enjoy what we were born into. Will history show that we, as a nation, chose to ignore truths to cling to our blame? Or, do we figure it out and attempt to mold a future that frees our children from the turmoil we’ve normalized with our untruths?
That’s a lot for me to dump on you in a post that promised love. But, I do share these bits with love and hope, which is a result of the best gift my parents passed on to me: the ability to find light beyond the dark. Others have taught me that is love and to never stop shining it. No wars or heroics or halos needed. (now let’s get to work, hold ourselves accountable, and chisel away at that blame/deflect/destroy thing)
Searendipity
I slept in much later than normal today because I got home around 5 a.m. after spending a glorious week of diving with friends in Anilao, Philippines. Now, I’m doing one of my favorite above water activities: sipping tea (seriously), inhaling my view (and the breeze that comes with it), reflecting on life’s blessings (and curses) and sharing some bits with you.
I’ll blast you with photos in a bit, but me oh my there’s so much I wish I could share with you, but that’s the thing about delving into discovery — the words and pics can only give you glimpses. I think one of the reasons I love diving so much is that it demands my full attention, presence and, well, aliveness. The world underneath does not have time for my versions of happiness or horror, my needs or wants — it’s busy doing its own dance, and my only job is to breathe and stay the eff out of the way.
So, I hover and voyeur while eels poke their beaks out of hidy holes (or swim by me), frog fish plod along the murky bottom, scorpion fish hide in plain sight, and Mantis Shrimp rear up ready to punch the fool who gets too close. Our guide swam all over the place looking for rare critters for us to ooh and aahhh over. My favorite is when he found something tiny (there are so many miniscule forms of life) and while he was motioning my friends with cameras to come and click, a feisty clown fish snapped it up and swallowed it whole. One being’s work of awe is another’s being’s snack. Sea critters aint got time to pause for us.
a nudi (sea slug — they had soooo many big and tiny ones) 
A mari nudi (something like that); basically a sea slug that looks like coral 
crocodile fish 
Grumpy 
Cardinal fish with eggs in mouth 
a pink eyed blennie 
another nudi 
Pygmy sea horse: these guys are so tiny, I only see their outline until I check out a friend’s pic. Mike Borgert took this one 
Mantis Shrimp: his punch will do damage 
rhinopias — freaking loved this guy 
just look at that face 
two eels in one 
I’m too sexy 
flamboyant cuttlefish 
sea snake 
disco scallop — a neon light shoots through the middle 
another nudi 
My boat peeps!
I took none of these pics. They’re all from Shane Blaz, Ina Francisco and Mike Borgert. There are so many other pics, but my computer is ancient and it’s not playing nice with WordPress.
And then there’s the amount of frog fish we saw from teeny tiny to huge. They come in all sorts of colors and blend in with their surroundings. They have a lure that hangs in front of their face, so dinner swims right up to them. We also saw a sponge crab and bamboo shark (not pictured), plus a whole bunch of other weird and adorable creatures. You look long enough at a spot and you’ll eventually see there’s something mating, living, eating there.
Sadly, while it felt like we were on another planet, evidence of my species is all over the place. There were shoes, batteries, cans, cups, you name it mixed in with the coral and sand. I get it: Life is not fair; it’s brutal, every meal is another creature’s death, but can we all just try to keep our trash to ourselves?
The fish leave their shit all about as well, but it’s their part of the planet to dirty (and their waste serves a purpose for something else). Evidence of waters warming and the storms they birth is also hard to miss. But enough of that, we all know we need to do better, and sometimes we do.
I most certainly don’t know the secrets of the universe, or how to fix our damage, but I do know that I am one lucky girl who gets to see the many layers of art (goth included) that life creates.
And I get to make so many amazing human friends as well (we’ve got our magic too).
Our entire group thankful for our unconventional Thanksgiving.
Double, double toil and trouble…
Storms are a brewing every which way we look, and it’s definitely a time of chaos and uncertainty. Luckily that is not the reason why I haven’t posted in awhile. I’ve just been busy working, diving, living the good life. I figured there are only so many posts about sunsets, rainbows and weekend mermaiding that readers will tolerate.
This is the only turtle I’ll get to see this weekend because, for me, there is no diving. The ocean is getting bullied by some storms, which aren’t expected to do much harm to Guam, but the boat can’t go out today (nor do I want to fight the surf). I’m flying on Monday (for work), which means I can’t dive tomorrow. Sooooo, I have time to sip from my sassy mug and share my bits of living.
First off, it feels like I began the school year lassoed to a tornado. I’m not complaining, but it’s been busy, and it included a week in Georgia followed by a week in Okinawa. I was so jet lagged, I hope I came off coherent (then again I hope that regardless). I’ll be back in Okinawa next week, and I’ve brought my Christmas list with me — fingers crossed I can fit in some after-work shopping. I’ll definitely be eating well. Oh my goodness I will never get bored of Japanese cuisine.
I’ve also had a few personal setbacks, the biggest was discovering that I can’t vote during this year’s presidential election. People born in Guam are U.S. citizens, but, while living on island, they can only vote for Guam officials (their taxes also remain on Guam). If they move stateside and register there, then they can vote.
Little ole privileged me thought I’d be exempt from that since Arizona is listed as my home of residence, and I pay federal taxes. What I didn’t take into account was the minute I surrendered my AZ drivers license to get my Guam one, I gave up my absentee ballot. Worst part is, of course, deep down inside I had to know this (hello? Social Studies person), but obviously I didn’t think it through (or do my due diligence). I needed to renew my car insurance, and because I’m not military I don’t have military-affiliated insurance, I needed a Guam drivers license for the local insurance (it’s also law; you’re supposed to get a Guam license when you move here — however, there are exemptions, which I’m sure I could have dug up). Lesson learned: don’t give up your state license; find the loophole that makes it legal for you to keep it. Anyway, this is my too long of a ramble that I feel so disenfranchised that I can’t vote. I guess in some ways this is metaphorical for the way I feel about so much of what is going on: I have no control of the crazy (except my own).
Another setback is health care. It can be such a pain. Luckily my issues are minor, so it’s all good (until it’s not). I’ve been using a medical facility that’s affiliated with a church, which means after examination the doctors ask if they can pray for you — I’m never going to say no to divine intervention. But, lol, I recently had to go in for a urinary tract infection, and my young doctor asked our heavenly Father to smite the bacteria in my nether regions. Soooo, there’s that.
As always, with any overseas gig I have, there’s the distance from my family. Oh how I hate that I can’t mourn and celebrate so much side-by-side with them. I’m grateful I have the internet to keep us connected (and oh how I loathe some of its bits as well).
And, yet, my good still outweighs the bad. I love the pace of living here, the tribe I’ve been accepted into, the work I get to do, and the seasons of our ocean. Perhaps I am one of Poseidon’s daughters because whenever I do my time under water I am at such peace and awe, and then I get to celebrate it with my fellow underwater enthusiasts.
There is so much magic above and below our waters — how lucky are we! Of course there’s danger too, but that’s just part of our bargain with living.
And that, my friends, is probably way more than you wanted to read about my life’s spells. Stay safe, enjoy the treats that come your way, and do your right thing.
101 Diveations
Work trips, my gall bladder fiasco, and life slowed me down a bit, BUT I finally completed my 100th (and 101st) dive yesterday — with the crew that talked me into doing this in the first place (minus a few who’ve moved off island, sigh).
Tradition says one should do the 100th in the buff. Um since I tend to spread my legs to stabilize, this was a better option (no faux spotted rays shocking unsuspecting free divers on this trip). Love that I’m surrounded by my mermaid pals. B52 is my handle in our scuba chat.
Pic by Mike Borgert
According to my cert, I’ll have been doing this a year on Aug 28th, sooooooo this time last year I was forcing myself to go to my skills drills. Oh my goodness I struggled. A shout out needs to go to my instructors Susie and Greg Holt of The Dive Tribe. Patient instructors who know how and when to push you are everything. I still have my panicky moments, but then a fish looks at me with a face that says “bitch, breathe and wave at me.” And, I’m back.
I can’t imagine not diving now. It’s part of my weekly routine, and I love every second of it. It’ll be such a rude awakening when I move (not yet, but one day I will have to, again sigh) and find myself far away from these beautiful waters and friends (marine and human) who’ve become home for me.
pic by Ina Francisco. We see sooooo many turtles; they never disappoint. 
sometimes they swim with us! Ina took this pic during yesterday’s dive. There’s Ms. Pamela flashing the Korean heart sign. 
A spotted eel (from another dive). We saw a massive moray a few dives ago. I swear it was part dragon. I always love Shane’s pics. 
I also love Mike’s pics. 
We love the clown fish! pic by Ina (and I love Ina’s pics) 
another Shane pic from one of our dives. It truly is that magical underneath. 
sooooo, I bought a magnifying glass to see these tiny creatures better. I haven’t tried it out yet, but it’s coming. Fingers crossed it works. lol because when I see them underwater it’s a bit blurry and I’m all squinty eyed. Pic by Shane 
This was taken by another friend Tiffany Martin during an amazing night dive at Gun Beach (we did it a few days before I took off for vacation in June). 
a sleeping ray. It never moved despite all of our bubbles. Pic by Mike Borgert 
I was not on this dive, nor was it in Guam, but I swam with two of these when I was in the Phillipines. Pic by Mike Borgert 
safety stop! 
Bubbles! Me on another dive. Pic by Ina 
lol my tank looks like its dragging. Walking into my 100th dive. It’s only appropriate we did this at Gun Beach yesterday since it was also the first dive I took after getting certified.
A round of applause needs to go to those who take pics. I don’t know how they do it. I struggled just keeping my sign in place while diving yesterday. Plus, lol, I get so mesmerized by it all that I’d forget to click. I’m so grateful for the shots they get. We see so much magic, including sharks, squid, barracuda, the list goes on.
This pic says it all! Happy Sunday to my peeps in Guam and happy Saturday to my peeps in other parts of the world.
Blew out an organ in Florida
A few days ago, my morning began picking blackberries alongside Oak Creek while we walked to breakfast. Later that day, crickets loudly outed our presence, interrupting the chant between pine and wind. A storm in the distance threatened to ruin our hike, but it stayed away long enough to let us enjoy all that we miss and love about northern Arizona’s woods.
Oak creek near my son Kyle’s home 
the happy couple showing off a blackberry 
a tiny lake somewhere in the woods of Williams, AZ 
Again because our timing was off thanks to my wayward innards, it worked out. We got to see Jeff and Shannan, friends/neighbors from Guam who just moved back to states, while they were on their “back to America” roadtrip. How cool is that?
I wish I could say my entire month-long vacation was as idyllic as its last days. This was the month I meant to feed my soul by whooping it up with friends and family I haven’t seen in too long awhile. It was supposed to be loaded with hiking, kayaking, swimming and imbibing all sorts of food, bevies and fun — instead I spent most of it on my back or tuckus sipping water and eating fat free (with Jello being my highlight).
Luckily, my body held it together long enough for me to catch up with a friend in DC and then my UAE buds in Fort Lauderdale and a Bahama booze cruise. So, cruising is fun and all, but apparently when you’re almost 60 you might not want to eat and sip all that is offered. An abused, aged gall bladder can only take so much before giving you the middle finger and crapping out on you.
Because I normally don’t have digestive issues — just the occasional heart burn — when, what I thought was indigestion, crept up on me the last two nights of the cruise, I inhaled Tums, laid on my bunk and did my yoga/scuba breaths to will the pain away, and then resumed time with my buddies. The day we left the boat, a friend and I drove to Islamorada (near Key Largo) to bicycle, swim, kayak (maybe even squeeze in a dive). Instead I ended up holing up in the hotel room from what I thought was food poisoning (poor Shannon, my vacay buddy, got to nurse me instead of exploring the keys). I just took it all as my sign that Florida just might not be where I want to retire.
The day after my big vomitfest, I dropped Shannon off at another friend’s apartment in Fort Lauderdale to check into my flight to Pensacola, where I planned to whoop it up with my brother and sister. The travel gods had other plans for me. Long story short, my layover was in Houston (yeah I know silly that I had to fly from Florida to Texas just to get back to Florida) and there was a hurricane, soooooo now instead of flying I was going to drive 9.5 hours to Pensacola, which I did — all while my gall bladder was throwing it’s little temper tantrum that I ignored. In hindsight a payday bar and a Wendy’s breakfast sandwich was probably not a good idea.
Still thinking it was an abused stomach from all the fun consumed on the cruise, I just slowed things down a bit in Pensacola — loving every minute I had with my brother and sister. On our third day together, I felt great. So, what did I do? I whooped it up on the beach and then at Floribama, a fun bar my brother wanted to visit. I ate, I drank, I danced the night away. Went to bed a happy little sinner. Around 2 a.m. my gall bladder put her little valve down and said something along the lines of “Peace out!”
My siblings first took me to Urgent Care, which sent us to a stand-alone Emergency room, so I also got to experience an ambulance ride from there to hospital. Don’t let my smirk fool you; I’m in a lot of pain and not yet doped on the right meds.
Trust me when I say don’t piss off your body parts. When one of them decides to pull a kamikaze move, it will take you down. I was in so much pain, the morphine didn’t work, but oh my goodness did the whatever else they pumped into me — I see why people get addicted. It’s bliss until it wears off.
It’s almost three weeks later, and I’m almost back to normal. I’m still very cautious about what I eat. While the family eats pizza, I munch on fruits and veggies. While they sip beer in the pool, I savor my ice water. I want sooooooo badly to eat cheese and greasy foods, but I’m being good. I’ll eventually go back to nibbling here and there on my unhealthy favorites, but I plan on continuing the good habits to keep the rest of my body at bay. I do not need an internal war messing up anymore of my fun.
And while I hate that a good chunk of my plans were derailed, there was also a lot of good that came out of this.
- The hospital I landed in was great. A shout out goes to Pensacola’s HCA Florida West. They were thorough and attentive. Everyone, and I mean everyone, made sure I got what I needed when I needed it. My surgeon also managed to rush me in for a follow-up three days after surgery, so that I could hit the road and get to Virginia and then to Phoenix and, finally, Guam. Fingers crossed my insurance doesn’t surprise me with a “time to go bankrupt” bill.
- Since I didn’t want to fly after surgery, we — I mean Joe, who flew in to help me out post surgery (which I so appreciated) — drove to Virginia, which gave us the chance to stay at a friend’s house in SC. Thank you Scott for making me a healthy meal!
- Another friend drove 4 hours (each way) just to spend a little time with us. We would have missed this opportunity had I been able to stick to my original plans. Love you Chris!
- A slowed-down me was able to just soak up the time I had with the people I love, and Joe got to spend family time with me. We’re normally here at different times.
- I’m pretty sure when I step on the scale at home, I’ll have lost weight instead of gained it. Amen to that! (I’m still jonesing for some cheese though)
This time next week I’ll be back to my real world, trying to catch up at work. Instead of writing about the highlights, I’ll just blast you with some photos from cruise, sibling time and a roadtrip with my son. Currently, I’m loving time with Kaylene and the babies; Aaron is visiting again tonight. Hopefully, I’ll take the time to reflect and write more either during my layovers or when I have quiet time in Guam. To the friends I missed seeing, I won’t wait this long to visit again. Hugs and love to all of you — you truly bring so much light to my life!
Day one of vacation — little did I know the diet was going to change. 
Let the cruise begin! 
oh let’s have another 
Shannon! She was my nurse during the alleged food poisoning event. 
lol I am not a pole dancer, but fun times with my brother and sister on the beach. This is the day I felt great. until I didn’t 
oh Floribama time. Look how happy I am… 
perhaps these didn’t help 
um this says it all; little did I know 
Roadtripping with Kyle and Joe. So, yeah, I spent a night in Nashville and ate only chicken and veggies and drank only water. 
We got to see Christopher! 
Family and Marna time in Richmond 
I love this picture of the three of us. You can still see the kids we were 
My brother introduced us to Buc-ees. Turns out they make great sippy cups 
More cruise loving. 
pool party off the cruise 
Despite the
Diving into 59!
It’s official folks. I’m in my final year of my 50s — what in the effity eff? LOL it’s still 19-year-old me in my head. I spent the weekend diving and imbibing — and it was glorious!
I partied with the fishes and turtles below — and FINALLY I got to see a ray, a marble ray. I might have peed a little with excitement. I don’t have pictures of the ray, but thanks to Mike Borgert I have pics of some of what we see — including that fun pic of me. He’s got talent because he managed to get me during the one second where I didn’t yet have Medusa hair lol or my belly hanging out. A sexy diver I am not. But that is okay because we’re all under the water to look at these guys (thanks Mike for sharing your pics!)…
May is a wind-down month, teachers and students are finishing up the year, but it’s also a fun time for tweaking summer plans. Sadly, it’s also when we begin our goodbyes to those who’ll be moving. There’s always the good byes in this life, but we’re nomads now and we will see each other again — and there’s the internet (lol a spotty, unreliable one in Guam, hence the lowercase, but it’ll do). The good news is we have until the end of June to still play with the friends of ours that are leaving this year.
It’s a good life I get to grow old in, and I am always grateful for those who make it so much fun — and full of so much discovery. So, while this weekend was all about celebrating me, I’d like to end this post celebrating all of you. Thank you for keeping me young and keeping my 19 year inner self in check (when she needs it).
Cheers to all of you! And may we continue enjoying all that comes our way. We’ve got plenty more living and exploring to do.
Let’s hear it for the moms and our friends
I almost squashed a hen today on our only six-lane road. I saw her darting from the other side. I noticed the cars on that side were far enough away, but then I realized oh no I’m going to hit her. I looked in my rearview, no one behind me, slammed my breaks, the guy to the left of me slammed his breaks, and my tires missed her by a few inches. She spun around and ran back to where she came from — only this time those cars are also way too close. Praise be … they hit their brakes too. Mama hen gets to live another day (or minute, if she makes another dumb move like that), huffing and puffing her oh shits before finding her way back to her chicks.
That, my friends, is motherhood.
You survive the near catastrophes (and why did no one ever tell us there would be so many of them) by the good graces and quick thinking of others (as well as your own quick moves —or dumb luck).
Okay, it’s also life. But it’s Mother’s Day, so let’s give it to the moms.
For those of us who live so far away, it’s a tough holiday. There is no over-priced brunch with bubbly and our kids. There is video calling (for me it’s via Facebook), but when you’re 17 hours ahead on the time zone, the calls will happen at work on Monday (with your office door closed and an “in a meeting” sign posted).
BUT, when you live on an island with good friends, you make do by going diving and enjoying Mother Nature’s gifts. While I most certainly didn’t do the mad-mother-hen dash today, I did get to hover near an extraverted octopus who changed her colors and toyed with us. I also looked a reef shark in the eye while he swam by us, and, lol most surprisingly of all, I got to see a baby squid mistake a dive buddy for its mama. We also swam with turtles and too many types of fish to list. I am so grateful for the people in my life who sway in and out of life’s murky waters with me — and who love the wonder within it as much as I do.
We miss our babies, but cheers! LOL and look at that baby squid. It attached itself to Pam’s fin. We hope it found its way to safety.
And because I got sidetracked, I didn’t get around to posting this on Mother’s Day. Sooooo, it’s now also an homage to the friends in my life who make it so much fun (there are so many more of you not pictured in below slide show, BUT you know who you are — and I bet you’re already posted somewhere in this blog).
Have a great week everyone! The weekend is just a few days away…
Hello Sunshine…
Good Morning World! Aaahhh, I’m back to sitting on my balcony, sipping my coffee and enjoying the sheer joy of having a Saturday morning with nothing booked. In a bit we’ll be out and about showing off Guam to our friend Derek, who arrived Easter Sunday. But, for now, it’s peace and almost quiet (lol it seems like we always have trash or construction trucks beeping away the quiet).
This time last week I was enjoying the view from another island balcony at El Galleon dive resort in Puerto Galera, Philippines. I loved this resort (I don’t get paid for any of this, so when I include the name and link of a place it’s special). Service is top notch, and everyone at the resort made our stay easy and stress free (including transportation from and to Manila). It truly felt like we were visiting old friends — who just happened to have a gorgeous spot of island life.
It was my first visit to a dive resort, so imagine my surprise at not having to haul my gear to a boat or worry about anything other than checking my air and dive computer. I also had my own cubby where all of it remained until, sad sigh, check out day. The dive staff were also fantastic — as were my fellow divers. I made some great friends, and while I say this a lot (and rarely do) I am so going back (seriously!). Whose going with me next?!
the view from our front door 
pool side bliss 
this view never gets old 
fish being delivered to restaurant, which never disappointed. Oh my goodness both of their shrimp appetizers are yummy. 
whoops this is Sabang, which is an easy walk from hotel. 
lol aren’t we sexy in the water taxi on our way to resort (I was fighting tummy issues) 
This is what I looked at while getting a pedi/mani and then a massage — and soooo affordable. 
we had a full moon and a few days later a really low tide, which brought out adorable treasure hunters. 
Happy hour at the bar — new dive buddies! 
Awww hey Betty! I hope we dive and sip again. 
ahhh the balcony 
lol part of the 67 stairs that led to our room. Joe was not pleased about the climb, but the room was worth it. There are also plenty of ground-level rooms near the pool. 
happy hour includes two for one! yes please.
We also lucked out and got introduced to a fabulous Tuk Tuk driver/tour guide who brought us to see waterfalls and White Sand beach; the next day he took Joe all over the island while I had fun diving. Our first and last nights in the Philippines we spent at the Belmont, a Manila hotel within walking distance of Terminal 3 (which happened to be our terminal). If you have late night or early morning flights this is totally the way to go. There are also other hotels nearby to choose from. I enjoyed Belmont’s rooftop pool.
best way to fight traffic is in a tuk tuk 
Taz! We’ll see you next time. 
While Derek landed in Guam on Easter, we were in Manila enjoying our last day in the Phillipines. 
a mall near our hotel — World Resorts something or other. We had fun killing time there while waiting for our flight. 
LOVED the rooftop bar at airport hotel. 
yes I sipped bevies and took a dip here. 
best idea ever: Terminal three has a walkway to nearby hotels. Super easy for us ! 
There’s so much more to share, but I’ll have to save that for my next visit — including diving the Verde Island passage, which I didn’t get to do (long story short I got sick before the trip, and it bullied me a bit throughout, but I won in the end, and I still fit in a lot of wonderful dives). Derek is stirring, so it’s time to go back to having fun on my own island. People, I think it’s official: I will never get bored of island life.
Thank you to everyone I met on this trip who truly made it special! Hugs and cheers!
The in between…
I know shame on me for not posting in quite awhile. I had several good ones to post too — like arriving in Tokyo during a rare snow storm (I now know what it’s like to experience train travel with suitcases during Tokyo rush hour when the roads are closed; intimate is an understatement). But, I just never got around to keying it all in.
Before that I got to experience first-class fun on a Korean train to Daegu — FYI In Japan and Korea train passengers are expected to be quiet (as in you leave the car, and hover by the bathroom or door, if you need to speak). If you’ve ever met me you know that is quite the challenge, which, um, I might have had endured some productive struggle (but I really, really tried).
In between those two trips was the best bit of all — a visit from my daughter and her family. Oh my goodness, I love my kids and all, but holy hell do I love my grand babies. I treasure the little adventures I get to have with Torin. Isla is too young to be trusted alone with me; she’s an expert mimicker and doesn’t need to learn my hand gestures and vocabulary.
One of my favorite days: Torin at the aquarium. He was so interested in learning more about the sharks, turtles and manta rays. The balloon sword was a perk 
Isla had the perfect name since she loves being on a tropical island — of course that child loves everything. 
lol can you tell we’re related? 
So, I thought this was a kid’s floatie — lol he could’ve used that thing to sail to Saipan. 
Torin prefered watching Dad do the kayak thing 
Another Torin and Oma go to the pool moment. Yes, he carried it all lol 
water boy 
water girl 
Oma quit squeezing me! 
Yes, we had a late Christmas. LOl my tree didn’t come down until Valentines weekend. 
My beautiful little Mama and her little monster. 
absolutely LOVE this pic. lolol 
Torin learning history 
He preferred snacks at the beach 
lolol I freaking love that child. 
Fish eye underwater fun — in about 10 years maybe he can scuba with his Oma 
lol don’t let her cuteness fool you; she’ll jump all over you 
this should have been with the other pic; he soooooo loved marine life 
We got to do a fun snorkel together 
lol these two together melt my heart 
Oh how I wish they could
It’s been two months since their visit, and I sooooo miss them, but we’ll be vacationing together again before we know it. The in-between time keeps me busy too. My work, friend, dive and regular life is full of love and laughter too. Plus, I get to see a lot of this…
I’m also just a few days away from my next trip: a vacation in the Philippines! I’m so excited. It’s my first non-family oriented (although I love those) or work trip since we’ve moved to Guam. And, yes, I’m diving — cannot wait to see what I see!
When we return, a friend will be waiting for us — lol he lands two nights before we do, so keep the beers chilled, Derek!
A decade overseas…
2014: Journalism teacher in Phoenix, Arizona 
2024: Instructional Specialist in Guam
Happy 2024! My first blog post opened with a pic of me at work, and now you get to see me at work ten years later. I’ve gained some wrinkles, some pounds, and some prescription spectacles, but I’m still loving life.
When I first began this blog in 2014, I had no idea that I’d thrive in the UAE (I was so excited and so nervous), and that I’d also move to Belgium and then Guam. LOL I thought I’d be in the Middle East for two, maybe three years and then back home living the Arizona desert life (which I also loved). Now, I have no clue where I’ll end up next. For now I’m loving the island life, so all is well.
My only complaint is the same in every country: I’m so far away from my babies (and now their babies). And oh my goodness, look how adorable they are!
I’m so blessed to be surrounded by so much good (it’s balancing out the darker moments of my youth). 2024, for me, is looking to be filled with lots of visits. The grand babies and their parents arrive for a two-week visit January 24, then I have a friend planning to visit in April, one, possibly both, of my sons in May. In between all that are work trips in January and February, and then a fun trip to the Philippines in March.
It’s like Christmas every month for me! As for what I’ve been doing since the last time I posted: work (which I enjoy), Guam eating, sipping and beaching (thanks Barbie movie for making this a verb), and diving. I’ve mastered my fear of depth and have gone as deep as 125 feet (which is nothing to deep divers, but it’s deep enough for me).
going down the blue hole lol with my octo (extra breather) flailing wild. Pic by Ina Francisco. 
pic by Ina 
pic by Ina 
pic by Ina 
pic by Ina 
MDA boat ready for the holidays 
Can’t fit through this hole. Pic by Carter Gingrich 
Getting my advanced open water cert doing the Tokai Maru wreck dive. It’s the only place n the world where you can touch WW1 and WW2 sunken ships at the same time. Pic by the Dive Tribe 
lol Santa is one of my instructors from the Dive Tribe (they’re so patient with me) 
lol pre dive — before the hair gets all kinked and crazy (I’ve since cut it because, well, I damaged the hell out of it). Pic by MDA
I love the last day of the year because it always causes me to pause and reflect on what I’ve learned. Today, I’m remembering who I was in 2014 and where I am today. I am the same, however, probably a calmer, more stable me (some might disagree).
I am also quite a bit wiser thanks to my following list of lessons learned.
- Fat floats: The heavier one is the more weight is needed to stay under when diving. My metaphorical soul sees it as the more we gain the harder we are to sink. Experience has made me more resilient — I know setbacks, no matter how drastic, don’t define me and they most certainly won’t ruin me. Plus, I like a positive spin to the extra fat in my life, so why fight it?
- Feed the hunger: In the past I starved myself avoiding what I wanted to do or learn because I thought I was too young, too old, too inexperienced, too whatever. Why do we do this to ourselves? It looks like toward the end of my decades I jump off the bandwagon and feast away: In my late twenties I married and built a family (my daughter came a few years earlier) and was amazed by how deeply I could love (um and later on that some loves are meant to be let go); in my late thirties, I packed up my kids and moved to a place where I had no job, knew no one, and, well, found myself reborn among the flames (thank you Phoenix); in my late 40s I gave up my dream teaching job to teach English in an Arabian school surrounded by so much uncertainty, and I am now in such a better place professionally and financially; in my late 50s I faced death (lol if only in my mind) to discover life under the sea, and now I want to discover more of what lives beneath our realm. God only knows what my late 60s will bring, but it’ll satiate whatever it is I’m hungering for (probably time to whip up some temptations for my grandchildren).
- Listen! Listen to my gut, to others, to everything around me. Most importantly, listen to that inner voice — the one I sometimes think is crazy. This one is tough because there are so many voices in our lives, all that should be heard (lol but not all that I’ll follow). I don’t jump into anything haphazardly. I seek advice, I google the bedazzle out of everything, I check and cross check, and I argue with myself. When I look back on my life, it’s when after all of that, I chose to ignore my inner voice, that I found myself in my worst situations.
- Be a Pollyanna: I don’t mean toxic positivity. I mean embrace the light wherever I am, even when in the thick of shit. Hell, sometimes I’m a goth Pollyanna, enjoying the wicked while finding the good. Along the way I discovered that sometimes positivity is associated with being naive or too much of a dreamer or too kind. And, I mistook this strength as a weakness, but I was wrong. My cheeriness might annoy the fuck out of some, but it’s genuine and there is so much love and wonder in my life. Rose-colored glasses look fabulous and my view is so much nicer than Negative Nancy’s.
- Embrace the dark: There’s magic and growth here as well; I just try not to hug it too long. Hence my love of soothing lights and candles; they yank me back when needed.
- Accepting my momentum: I was going to write “don’t settle,” but to be fair when I was settling I didn’t at first realize it, and was it really settling when it’s what I felt I needed at the time? Then I thought I should write “give myself grace” because, like everyone, I struggle with the bits that are hard or what Ive done wrong. But, nope, the lesson learned is knowing when it’s time to move forward or when to pull back. This one might be the hardest of them all. There is always so much attached to this, and it’s never without stress, grief and cost. But, for me, there will always need to be some sort of forward momentum (and the occasional “holy shit back it up a bit!”), and when I avoid moving in the direction I need to, I wither. It goes back to feeding the hunger. I think I’m accepting the fact that I will always want to experience more (lol it’s a good thing I get excited over the little things too) — and that’s okay. I guess that my biggest lesson learned during my 58 years of living is that death is the only thing that should end our appetite, so if a job, a home, a relationship becomes stagnate (or feels that way) then there needs to be some gear shifting. That doesn’t mean that those parts of my life aren’t treasured. Oh my goodness I miss all of my pasts as much as I love what is yet to come.
So, there’s more than you cared to read about what I’ve reflected on before toasting in the new year. How about I end it with a blast of pics of what my current every day (well today it’s blustery) looks like. May we all have a year full of sunshine, happy hours and rainbows!
bettina without borders 