tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70490703375695074202024-03-14T00:09:26.722-07:00Life on the RockSaipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.comBlogger82125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-54309361851018337262009-06-15T23:36:00.000-07:002009-06-16T16:37:44.295-07:00PAWS for a Good Cause<div align="left">Last Saturday was the Saipan's Annual Best of the Worst Dog Show. Meatball and Rescue joined the fun but beforehand we did some costume fitting...<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKseTSXspN0mkJYLjw9gw4TxR-BG7G0fdeFe_-Fwqeas-kq31pMn8fhP1LgtM3m434bWNP3-mqSBPtCD-epVIY7YqaNr84P6s6wj89KdyqL31gtV7q6RRJamVDkN-KCh6wa_dH2Omw-AyS/s1600-h/CIMG5586.JPG"></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>Meatball as <span style="color:#ffcc00;">Princess Leia</span></strong><br /></div></span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347818197602410866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_pAmxrnxTfp7mC8uPDfEm_yLzye44vri4mpM6NF5t4FoQxdZ2jcTe3iBiH4KnUkpJcRpmfmwZAFMFKPUp43VBKgo-xBDi6arNkkjlK0hZMRssVRz6fqdte2jIsG0PAsEil6JSzj2Oeq2U/s320/CIMG5607.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em>"I don't really wanna do this..."</em></p><p align="center"><br /></p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvmcNt2HSQ407PEEQHn7EYj7BO0yMYuVhArKeBoId2HSdJTDbDiDD2W9ePFcWYxvzUfNGaMd4jNA_inRDX2LiR82nDrh06zCcGEIiCvhOUvyuVn4ERJHR98MFWaYzlEtad0hJ-QZRnqqh/s1600-h/CIMG5596.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347818205045341234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvmcNt2HSQ407PEEQHn7EYj7BO0yMYuVhArKeBoId2HSdJTDbDiDD2W9ePFcWYxvzUfNGaMd4jNA_inRDX2LiR82nDrh06zCcGEIiCvhOUvyuVn4ERJHR98MFWaYzlEtad0hJ-QZRnqqh/s320/CIMG5596.JPG" border="0" /></a> <em>"What!? There's prizes!"</em><br /><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Rescue as <span style="color:#33cc00;">Yoda</span></span></strong><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347818187335413682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTVvPY_zUfk7QSLQXC_KvdCjZ_wf73UEvS2lJSpPkKu4FVQ7IDWcq68zeMIAg8yefN9wEBBOh2a3IAgB24mEiAaK_pbnucI1vtXUXuKu6j0i6ffEcCI_4AT46KLTlhzKm1_WBkzOC2B9Y/s320/CIMG5580.JPG" border="0" /><em>"Judge me by size, do you?"<br /></em><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347818179008707858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA_fpN2ZkAAN88FAs61LsJSyCvOqRN3K_iRhR9oueq1gxiCP9mXl0baLpdAZJPhv_GvLT8PpnrJwIwvsyX_fK71VzLKLvdInlTaIwCjnAtvaai1oNZuDlj7Bqu8RQfUrhp6O2rkgmSDRq5/s320/CIMG5579.JPG" border="0" /><em>"Skilled with my tongue, I am"</em></div><div align="center"><em></em> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><em></em></div><div align="center"><em></em></div><div align="center"><em></em></div><div align="center"><em></em></div><div align="center"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">After all the planning, Brad and I packed up the Rav and headed to the airport field for the competition. Meaty won a couple of prizes for her costume and her talents, but PAWS was the real winner for bringing together a group of people for a celebration of man's best friend.</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">Thanks to all of the organizers like Katie Busenkell, <a href="http://jetapplicant.blogspot.com/">Angelo Villagomez</a>, Cinta Kaipat, <a href="http://www.paws-saipan.blogspot.com/">PAWS</a>, <a href="http://beautifycnmi.blogspot.com/">Beautify CNMI!</a> and all of the volunteers who helped make PAWS WARS III: Revenge of the Boonie possible. </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-67175131065891396212009-06-06T05:01:00.000-07:002009-06-15T23:01:17.574-07:00The Great Circle of Life<div align="left">I love when creativity is challenged. This year, Rhonda and I orchestrated Walt Disney's The Lion King for Rotary's Parade of Books. With 35 students from grades 2-6, we bagged 2nd place with $750, The Most Spirited award winning P.I.C water park passes for all the participants, and The Best Producer award garnering a free night stay at the Pacific Islands Club with free breakfast. WOHOO!<br /><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345593803762801746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_BJ_aDh9aZ5Fu4pda8iPXIjuE6o66eRXMlSYqOU7nQzyTQ6usT32uVZMrQ6LDNBF8HQuI9BwPhC0WmMZS02MaYHnvfCWoCZ3hLxXh3GN4Kx73y5EKQc5-faKqlLKhI6X9N5w7iPfWLzVh/s320/CIMG5214.JPG" border="0" /> We went all out, not just sewing costumes for the characters but fashioning each child so they could fully portray their role. Okay, we really wanted them to look cool.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345598847920738546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib4cPWNO-YARCL-k_IqBE8ypVAO_650GeD-AiJxVWV1TgeF8FCYHnzbEk6haLkKEoWsFtOzvjeiDvrnDy5e4IGtdC8dHcmyDrTnWfVMZw8jofh865KQcSybSCbebU25-NhML1r-U87rs81/s320/CIMG5211.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p align="center"><em>Greg Sablan, my 2nd grader, stood in front of about thirty older kids during auditions and jabbered through an African Chant because he knew he wanted to be Rafiki.</em> </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345593811203114146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeCfUeHIe2SAIUZ8TGGDDF7Oo9S28HetbBLahlYwR5K30xOOPBYVtdLZaJIlW4bwaJKdeP73sQcnJeVIHXO7OJuNl-YrafeaMYgPxi2c3xvhY8fLs3XLh0qXIBY188XgIZbj3xKshADdQF/s320/CIMG5042.JPG" border="0" />We practiced every day, after school, for a full month. Some days, we kicked back and designed our props using whatever we could find in the classroom. I treasure the bond it created between our upper grade and lower grade students.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345593816684640930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0vPRxrzyFO8RHnXoMIbw_AZqrHph1wNponcCq8wYi9OEM5zyxlr9YK7i5sw-n6tKT51PKC7HKL2YfNRxFy-4ZrW-2a0lQED13J3bbfz7es0W7VnNAq7P4-Zu42cY1y3pKocThCqzAQk9/s320/CIMG5149.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347795803582102962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 172px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_d1jhYVX4J9hx265ecJUgFUpoVCJwhgui1_2L5Ue1dTgOVH80ubv4-HsDsRgQSkHopPZn9sTvcreZMk2Qte1ji-ITzbWBXVkBSKyklPsNJqfvvHzk5dZv-fRe-eagcn3Y6GmqTA4bhT9/s320/CIMG5152.JPG" border="0" />During D Day, teachers and parent volunteers came out to braid hairs, iron costumes, paint faces, and helped with last minute errands. Every child, including Rhonda and I, were styling corn rows.<br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344195467883233474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9JyAaTN1Rh0iPp6amffEtcquEXzQlgOJi8_GRYCw0Qvyghe2yZvYXmAwzcfXmCJmMy-mveAZ6VCDgomuW6kuQ0IETjhwRSXKbMynC4z-F2-lwTMkIZ6Kc2aLdiByx7ytpAjJvEM5RKsP0/s200/CIMG5213.JPG" border="0" /><em>Crazy duo, Eugene Mendez as Simba and Micheal Cerna as Scar (4th graders) </em></div><div align="center"><em><br /></em></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345598853881317602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh39sWAZ3YkkYzntvB7p1eBOkmoPXxyDrzG_uY5agGrk-Hl9xt5g9rcPIJkRFleOL8p9Rf5PEGYloPQnhr_s6lGJO_ZSFqi8L65s643PbBIFrn0IJwwe673G-bGn1ZIrBzj8CW0OF2isRPi/s320/CIMG5217.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em>Maria Terlaje, one of my sweetest 2nd grader, smiles with me and her little brother Jared after the performance.</em><br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344191154830867442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC2qI-t1iR4ZueFW-va4Skiiiq7xHrqTIJHxKIutXmRLsj-BJzcVx1_TtnGfJpffdZ4I5_5_IJVXkReJRGQP272rxNqqaD0mr54gvkdOI8m8U1HTrsa9KiME2ZbPTpc8cupIjCf-iE2Cwa/s320/CIMG5220.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em>Rhonda, her niece, me and Tori Jade (Rhonda's daughter) display our cool dude poster. </em><br /><br /></p><p align="left">It didnt stop there, the cast and crew were asked to perform in front of the PTA and the entire student body. After all the hard work and the amazing performances, we set a date to have FUN! Each student received a special T-Shirt from our winnings (approved by our ever supportive principal) and ate some not so healthy but incredibly delicious chicken at the beach.<br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347795809136946818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyDPVh_Kj3wHD7iPj6KTb-C3j9kHObeKAQh8kPXBOOC3yL03tiIxrP3HsHfdHXIEfSeJ2s__hLAFcLKr52aPDjQ28a_hH0m-RsY8vzDL8h8sCv0GAZKThzQiRJNoip2m1358ZN2HmnMkAC/s320/CIMG5449.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em>The Pacific Islands Club with Mr. Mendoza, the artist! oh, and Shieky the huggable mascot</em></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345598858647917234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2pTYtyCrllvtvShefJPsn18ngc5-CtZEibHWsfWmMumvvTApsuV4So-8Mtf7IbivcRud_camgkgVJLTVXZaomP7grnUlSa9wEhOiBxV7rtiGGqczmaPOanhG1hdxAQo-WSxWvQD_uzWr4/s320/CIMG5454.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347798594575660242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMqVWxnAA16YUQ70wDdci3eJCCBgjlsfyrdpmcvZNtbzdZY6PVTxYF4O062WnYcESsPK9OAjr6t-o6HPlxkBdzyB9o0uo3Vzvf8voj6M5vIvN4Bdjao_vz14nJgamMFTzAkAj0Y1W8z46G/s320/CIMG5475.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347798602727963314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJsrparhGDBBXuDvRVdK5_ocQKYYhLRFLmX0MdXYxebaxgoe4lgBEb5a_vW2AwJidi4EtZXrr2AegPn02Jh8VRaxAiC-d9LNqnte-Xz1VrHcVi0xAKxhZ1QqKtU8Bz-2t1mtbn5eJQ92Jr/s320/CIMG5464.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="color:#333333;">Thank You Rotary Club of Saipan for making this happen! </span></p><p align="left"><span style="color:#333333;"><em>Check out the performance on YouTube: Parade of Books or SaipanKat</em></span></p>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-47255633086496134002009-04-01T05:44:00.000-07:002009-04-02T16:35:59.148-07:00I Love You Papa<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhffqDE-7uSEFFn0UZADb9f_YU3NkR_8k7YTaUu2MidGt8GtXpuZX3o68hnRjMOYwOY60uliRC0ziBkZWS6Q59KgSEqcQQB5xUpH35UG_Ca9w7-ulHA09YHRanuPp7kAapobsdjbiY3jt42/s1600-h/papa.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319881714228643602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 172px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhffqDE-7uSEFFn0UZADb9f_YU3NkR_8k7YTaUu2MidGt8GtXpuZX3o68hnRjMOYwOY60uliRC0ziBkZWS6Q59KgSEqcQQB5xUpH35UG_Ca9w7-ulHA09YHRanuPp7kAapobsdjbiY3jt42/s200/papa.gif" border="0" /></a>It happened all too quickly. From the frenzied phone call to the numerous "my condolences, he was a good man."<br /><br />Papa lived his life. A life filled with faith and love. During his last hours, familiar faces came and went even after the hospital recording announced that visiting hours were over. Within that short span of time, the room was filled with songs, prayers, kind words, and silent sobs. A little after the family finally had a chance to be alone with him, I was torn between staying over for the night and going home to feed my crazy dog (what a stupid thought). I watched mama leaning on his bed, stroking his face over and over, whispering things like "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Ayaw</span></span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">na</span></span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">kabalaka</span></span></span> To,' the kids are big now and they promised to take care of me." My heart ached, and still does, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">thinking</span> about how Mama <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">must've</span></span></span> felt saying those words. I probably drifted to sleep with those thoughts. Around midnight, I woke up with a cramped leg and saw that mom has moved onto the bed, next to Papa. She said to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Kuya</span></span></span> Randy "his face is changing." She then turned to me and asked me to time his breathing. I learned earlier that night that he needed between 15 to 20 breaths per minute but was slowly reducing by the hour. I set my watch and waited for the inhale, ready to count the next one. I waited and glanced at the timer. Thirty seconds, forty five... when the minute passed I began to panic not seeing any signs of breathing. I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">didn't</span> know enough information about the counts so I had no intentions of telling mom that two minutes is about to hit. Within the next second, mom started <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">shaking</span> him, crying out his name. I rushed over to the bed and from there everything was a haze. I remember sitting on the cold floor waiting for the nurses to clean the room, I remember feeling tired yet fighting the exhaustion.<br /><br />Within two days, Ate Ta, Ate Kristie, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Kuya</span></span></span> Bong, arrived from Vegas and Washington. This kept mom strong. We all had to say or sing something during the funeral. It was incredible how each of my siblings shared aphorisms that Pa had instilled in them, in us. I found it funny when <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Kuya</span></span> Bong mentioned how Papa used to wait up for him during his teenage midnight escapes. Pa would just wait for him to come in or listen for his car pull up then without saying a word walked to his room. I clearly remembered my first rebellious act. A friend invited me to her sisters 18<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">th</span></span> birthday. We had just left <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Hafa</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">adai</span></span> Hotel when a group of people I met that night decided to go Karaoke. I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">didn't</span> think it was a big deal since I had a good hour before midnight. My singing was interrupted by "You have to call your parents! they're looking for you, they called my mom and my mom had to call Jeff to find out where we are!" I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">couldn't</span> believe it! I decided to ignore the urgent remark until my conscience got the better of me. I called the person least likely to get upset, my brother's friend <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Rodel</span></span>, who lived with us at that moment. He picked me up with my parent's car and said "They woke everyone up at the house. They almost called the cops, your Pa said he's going to sue the bar that let you in when you're not of age!" My heart <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">pounded</span> hysterically, I imagined different scenarios, different alibis. When I got home it was quiet but the light from the living room felt like lightning about to strike in my direction. I slowly walked in and saw just Papa heading towards his bedroom. Before he completely left from sight, he said "did you eat?" and closed the door after he heard my shaken "Yes."<br /><br />His funeral <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">couldn't</span> have been more beautiful. The Mt. Carmel Theater Group orchestrated "What a Wonderful World." The cathedral was packed with family, friends, and people I have never seen before. It was incredible to hear "I was his student 30 years ago" or "I worked with him for 17 years before he moved to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">PSS</span></span>." His good friend Jess <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Sonoda</span></span> gave a remarkable eulogy. I never fully understood why he and Ma did certain things like invite random strangers from the airport to have dinner or had non-relatives spend holidays with us. We've gotten quite used to it but there were definitely moments when we wished that it was just going to be a small yet intimate Christmas Eve. Hearing his life from a friend, listening to the priest talk about how he was welcomed into our home even before he was a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">seminarian</span>, helped me realize that it's simply who he is. He accepted me and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Lovelle</span></span> like his own, why not others?<br /><br />During the interment, Brad whispered "you better cry like your mom when I pass." I knew then that our fathers' love has inspired our future.Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-63437683272409965932009-03-10T21:26:00.000-07:002009-03-10T22:07:22.926-07:00Beach Clean Up<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_JohmJdhvnuWOZFPCTQwthj8mlwoM09vvlEHEcLpInpxuOaNXbLuGisEZz-N_A1uw83r71OLlTQlJTWjXEI4o3ML3SFW3R3ZRVXAqsj6ZwXIJ3k7iZumPvuCzg1KFPv4Z7jlYrsFEa6Jm/s1600-h/cleanup.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311784542229567666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_JohmJdhvnuWOZFPCTQwthj8mlwoM09vvlEHEcLpInpxuOaNXbLuGisEZz-N_A1uw83r71OLlTQlJTWjXEI4o3ML3SFW3R3ZRVXAqsj6ZwXIJ3k7iZumPvuCzg1KFPv4Z7jlYrsFEa6Jm/s320/cleanup.jpg" border="0" /></a>Picking up trash along the way, my 2nd graders, accompanied by parent volunteers, hiked to LauLau beach on a beautiful Wednesday morning. Our fieldtrip was tied to the study on coral reefs and the ongoing effort to beautify our island. Here are some journal entries that our students wrote beforehand.<br /><br /><div align="left">We need to clean our beach so the animals in the ocean can be safe. We can also eat some of them but not every animal. That’s why we need to make the sea creatures healthy by keeping our ocean clean. Our class will also clean Lau Lau so the sand can be white again.<br /><em>-Neilihner </em><br /><br />We should clean Lau Lau or any other beach because the fish would die and get sick from pollution. The sea turtles might eat trash, too. People could also cut their feet from the glass. That’s it folks!<br /><em>-Gary</em><br /><br />There are five reasons why we need to protect our ocean.<br />1. If people will continue to throw trash in the ocean, the fish will die and we will have no food.<br />2. The corals will die and the big wave will just swap our island when it comes.<br />3. When the water is dirty the corals can’t breath and no one will like to go diving anymore.<br />4. When you drive on the beach the turtles nest will be destroyed.<br />5. When you drive on the beach you will kill the vegetation and the other animals that eat the plant.<br /><em>-Lisa</em><br /><br />We’re doing a beach cleanup to keep our corals and sea creatures from dying. We are going to help the animals and the environment that they live in.<br /><em>-Jehpnyll</em><br /><br />When the trash goes in the water it makes water pollution. That makes the coral die. It also makes the fish die, when the fish die bigger fish won’t have food and people would also run out of big fish to eat. But San Vicente 2nd graders will clean up the beach so we can help save the ocean animals.<br /><em>-Rayanna</em><br /><br />Why is it bad to throw trash on the ground? Because when it rains it flows down and it usually ends up in the sea. People just don’t care that’s why we will hike to Lau Lau beach. Now the sea could be clean and the coral could be safe.<br /><em>-Noah</em> </div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-82186971901656246392009-03-08T04:03:00.000-07:002009-03-11T00:10:27.826-07:00Love Scavenger Hunt<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKWZeWsAVH_0EP5S4txXTMkkGoN6QV7hiWT9ZpuJfiW9xUDvZVi6j1RkGcB_JqicqlePs1j1nMlAUYzz9hk0eHEGXtm8So6zlubroGNgw64kJ4qbr3b-wB4IsBxjpRbNiPeKdJ4w0mQyEl/s1600-h/scavenger_hunt.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311778573759944866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 260px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKWZeWsAVH_0EP5S4txXTMkkGoN6QV7hiWT9ZpuJfiW9xUDvZVi6j1RkGcB_JqicqlePs1j1nMlAUYzz9hk0eHEGXtm8So6zlubroGNgw64kJ4qbr3b-wB4IsBxjpRbNiPeKdJ4w0mQyEl/s320/scavenger_hunt.gif" border="0" /></a> It was a typical Wednesday afternoon, little warm hugs of goodbyes, supervision, and then staff meeting. I stared blankly on the paper I was doodling when Betty handed me a familiar set of keys and said "check your text messages." Like most days, I overlooked to charge my battery so I waited to call Brad after our ‘How to care for your fish’ assembly.<br /><br />On the first ring, Brad picked up and announced "you're not following the rules, you can't call me" and hung up. I stood there puzzled about the unusual phone call. Less than a minute later, he called back and said "I'm guessing you didn't charge your cell phone again?" I answered with a quiet "Yes". He replied, "well I guess I'll see you later."<br /><br />"Okay, should I pick you up from work? Meet you somewhere for dinner?"<br /><br />"Nope. You'll just have to figure it out" and hung up, again.<br /><br />Still baffled by the conversation, I got in my car and found a paper on the dashboard. It had a spiffy K written on the folded note. Inside was a fancier type written message<br /><br /><div align="center"><em>Here's your invitation to a day full of mystery.<br />If you solve all my clues, it'll be one for all history.<br />I'm waiting for you at the end of the journey.<br />But your first steps will take you to a place with a gurney.<br />Your next clue awaits plain as you can see<br />Just look on the road sign in front of CHC</em></div><div align="left"><br />A silly grin was slowly forming my lips at the same time thinking, this should be effortless.<br /><br />As I reached the hospital sign closest to the main road, I saw a similar paper to the one I had on the passenger seat. Although, this was secured in a Ziploc bag attached to the familiar signpost. I ripped out the plastic eagerly and read the next one.<br /><em></em></div><div align="center"><em>You've made it this far<br />I'm so proud of you.<br />Now let’s see how you manage with Clue Number Two.<br />The answer to this one is not very far<br />In fact you can solve it from inside your car.<br />This one may sound seedy<br />And just a bit shady,<br />But you'll need the assistance of some Barenaked Ladies.<br />(I played my CD without delay)</em><br /><em>Press play on the disc,<br />Pick song number one, then continue your journey<br />For the next round of fun.<br />The next clue is three, and after is four,<br />But to find them you'll have to check<br />The sliding glass door.</em><br /></div><br /><div align="left">I drove down North as the song played "Broke into the old apartment this is where we used to live...” I thought of possibilities on where this hunt would end. I was certain this would lead me to Marianas Resort and Spa. My fantasy carried me further to a relaxing afternoon in a hot Jacuzzi, watching a bit of light pass through the clouded sunset. When I got to the old cozy pad there was the next clue, taped on the sliding door.<br /></div><div align="center"><em>That was too easy, but it shouldn't be hard<br />Just solve all the riddles I write in each card<br />Think of the beach, your feet in the sand<br />And an ice cold beverage in the palm of your hand.<br />It's close to you than you might think<br />(PAU PAU? my thoughts interrupted)<br />Just head back from where you came, and claim your cool drink.<br />Drive to the place where I finished my "half" run<br />And sat down with a cool towel because I had too much fun.<br />Once you are there, get out of your car,<br />And walk 'round the corner to the beach side bar.<br />Be sure to tell the bartender your name<br />And soon after that you'll be happy you came.</em></div><div align="left"><br />Heedlessly, my feet carried me back to my Rav while reading the clue. I sped, once again, to where the riddle led. "Hyatt, of course" I told myself, the silly grin still stuck on my face.<br />As soon as I got to the beach, I took my heels off and started walking in the sand. The warmth was soothing on my bare feet. Surprisingly, the weather was beautiful after a morning of rain. I got to the bar and asked the bartender if he had a note for “Kathy”. He gave me a genuine smile and said "I do, and I also have a present for you." He handed me a corona, definitely a gift from Brad, as I sat admiring the view. After a quick conversation about my unexpected afternoon, I chugged the drink and read the next one </div><div align="center"><br /><em>You're in Garapan now<br />And I'm not far away<br />But you'll have to work harder to end this foray.<br />Get back in your car and drive to the Paseo<br />And soon you will find<br />Your next piece of mail-o.<br />Walk up the stairs<br />To Saipan's home of Rasta,</em><br /><em>(Is he trying to get me wasted? as I thought about another drink </em></div><div align="center"><em>waiting for me at Oceans Bar and Grill)</em> </div><div align="center"><em>Grab the next clue<br />And then join me for pasta.<br />No, I’m not there<br />You'll still have to follow<br />Just grab the next clue<br />And fly like a (canary) swallow </em></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><em></em></div><div align="left">I held my final clue, thinking about my options </div><div align="center"><br /><em>As the zodiac goes<br />Tomorrow it expires<br />Come claim your Scorpio<br />And fulfill your desires.<br />If you need one more hint<br />To get your brain clickin’<br />I’m behind the tallest building<br />Where you get tasty chicken</em></div><div align="center"><em></em></div><div align="left">Hafa adai Tower was the tallest building I knew, but where does the tasty chicken fit in?<br />Aquarius made more sense, given the zodiac and chicken hint. I stopped and talked to a police officer I knew and asked what he thought about it. He threw in Hard Rock and the possibility of a restaurant that served really good chicken at one of Hafa Adai’s restaurant. That made sense, so I drove to the hotel and walked around the area. I was feeling a little woozy, the anticipation and early alcohol didn’t blend well. After what seems to be forever, I decided to give Aquarius Beach Tower a shot.<br /><br />There he was, <a href="http://beachboyinparadise.blogspot.com/">my personal dose of natural high</a>, attempting to make a large blue tarp look like a tent. I nearly tripped as I excitedly ran to his arms, but I composed myself just in time to make my clumsiness the topic of the night. He handed me an exquisite bouquet of lilies, another personal favorite. I smiled as I realized here is my taste of <a href="http://katontherock.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-fairy-tale.html">magic</a> in my ordinary life.<br /><br />The rest as they say is history. </div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-29392482829744021712009-01-22T21:28:00.000-08:002009-01-22T21:50:33.458-08:00Will you come visit us, please?Yesterday, a student council member came to my classroom and asked if I could read this letter to my 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">nd</span> graders. I thought it was the most amazing project the kids put together this school year. It made me proud to be a Canary.<br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294359153073441074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 279px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0pFBCae-fmfCNPRRQBn0heudksZsEwT3XSYLLzoFLHjGSujn3humdU_J_2A49e90wNh_RcBAOPylKK9otmJ0Bq0zG9vROllNUaa7A9XY6FakfLdbmKHnUJZ4vdhSkndojAdzVwZbgt9-W/s400/dear+president.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294359153971481506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 269px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLpHrfO98kpePayaY0Xo4xcEDHNzNyPwtiaOZ6jy_ursQ2GzyY7kmw5XntLl-tXnKBPy0IxyeqLht6yoVYqfmBPfw0_KeLeH0EVdSVQzQK38k37ffeTDgcJVYpOujH7jWJ1T2VmFfx8RYm/s400/dear+president1.JPG" border="0" /> After I read it, I told my kids that it might just happen. My 7 year old student replied "If it <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">doesn't</span>, at least we gave it a shot."</div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-15524765491510325262009-01-19T04:55:00.000-08:002009-01-19T18:18:32.091-08:00Meatball Trouble<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE12h5jXfRlHHtln2zTcMbvrfNFhwQFC1QRUU0bUmHjI3Tw5Ka_7uXn-XnwSkZsdlo3lwyUhVvTEl6ohAkoyYyvh920REz7oYOMzIkQBbmLHrf82eoEYEnsNFWjo95Au1fkXWSLF5kphkA/s1600-h/yummy.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293015917897573058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE12h5jXfRlHHtln2zTcMbvrfNFhwQFC1QRUU0bUmHjI3Tw5Ka_7uXn-XnwSkZsdlo3lwyUhVvTEl6ohAkoyYyvh920REz7oYOMzIkQBbmLHrf82eoEYEnsNFWjo95Au1fkXWSLF5kphkA/s320/yummy.JPG" border="0" /></a>Have you heard of Marley and Me? Marley the sweet, affectionate puppy who grew into a mischievous hyperactive dog.<br /></div><div align="left">Meatball falls in that mold.<br />Maybe worse. Who knows, she's still growing. </div><br /><div align="left">Last July, Brad and I picked up the cutest well-mannered puppy at an unusual pet store. Let's just say we joke about saving her from being on the Menu. She was the sweetest thing on four legs. Now, not so much. </div><br /><p align="left">Among the many antics she gets herself into, chewing is her top priority. She chews anything that would fit in her mouth. Gum. A piece of Frisbee. Shin Guards. A large rawhide would last 3 days before it would vanish in thin air. If it weren't for the splinter on her lip, she wouldn't have stopped chewing on our furniture. She has also managed to chew on all my sandals before Christmas, giving Brad the perfect opportunity to buy me six new pair of shoes :D<br />The best part is when she chooses one out of a pair leaving the other unharmed.<br /></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293020373366860210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk8RQNO0OI-nIAyGDeOJIpi8Ax6SHZHjT1FoyteUPnof6X7Vo80HqRRlHDYN-3Kzrul8WftCnPmKZeM89ScjRX8bpvtl7Dl2XQykEIXOoxfp0Jvsb-gvQE-fZMQ_7TIA65ebq09bGOb9iO/s200/sandals.JPG" border="0" /><em>hmmm... left or right?</em><br /></p><p align="left">One beautiful day my neighbor called me with a muffled laugh and said "um, Kathy, I think Meatball ran outside with your bra." Movie fans, sounds familiar? </p><p align="left">Another time, she started her very own top soil business right in front of our door. Now, we don't keep any plants on our porch. Just last week, Brad came home to a clay covered Meatball. As he forewarned me about her appearance and the giant red paw prints on our stairway, he hadn't the slightest idea on where or how she ended up that way. Before the day was over, Brad had solved the mystery. Our poor neighbors came home to this...<br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293022272576208178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT4YeivQ7cga_gog3bLFDESmWL9zszX3KqMXcCB43bOs0d1P8rgMtjxLENdk4-WtDVZj3et80eepBxiiTTlnE6Lv0GBcROvR5kFzQJ2v7Cf4_5S99c5LlkoBf4FYCjq11M95Wl9kWmUdAI/s200/topsoil.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p align="center"><em>Sorry Glen and Lindsay.</em><br /></p><p align="center"><em>And while I am in the subject of deep remorse, I would also like to apologize to the Church of Latter Day Saints for interrupting your baptismal ceremony at Wing beach.</em> <em>*blush*</em><br /></p><p align="justify">I was packing our things after a day at the beach, when Meatball decided to acquaint herself with one of the girls from the congregation. The little girl was trying to run away from her, while Meatball thinking "PlayTime!" The ceremoney came to a complete stop as they heard little shrieks of help from the girl. As I was running to resue her, Meatball thought I came to join in the fun. You could imagine how much chasing I had to do with a wet sandy dog. </p><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwdiHg-wc58s-X8CH0Yp7-j0QtvblTlgRqWsYBD0fzYzpkOiFMRZ9_MzrfykNWbwOqxzC9N7FjlKvcv9OS6vK3IXf8K0rq4bQuCz-4l7Ywh2imHvFL5DJkCTQ7tltnmAGvTNctzkUNjrPA/s1600-h/bottle.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293028621495537506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwdiHg-wc58s-X8CH0Yp7-j0QtvblTlgRqWsYBD0fzYzpkOiFMRZ9_MzrfykNWbwOqxzC9N7FjlKvcv9OS6vK3IXf8K0rq4bQuCz-4l7Ywh2imHvFL5DJkCTQ7tltnmAGvTNctzkUNjrPA/s200/bottle.JPG" border="0" /></a>I know Meatball's heart is huge and her love boundless despite her lack of social graces but I sure am looking forward to that day when she decides to be a fire place dog. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">For the meantime any suggestions from all you dog lovers out there?</div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-21882935602366283312008-11-30T18:04:00.000-08:002008-11-30T18:19:16.855-08:00For my Teacher<div align="center"><em>A folded up filler paper was left on my table this morning. </em></div><div align="center"><em>This poem painted a big smile on my face...</em></div><div align="center"><em></em></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">I have this teacher<br />she is very pretty<br />She lets us play games<br />like “centers” and “Jeopardy”<br />She brought Meatball once<br />her little loving dog<br />I remember that time<br />when she chased Brandon like a frog<br />She took us to the movies<br />and she is very kind<br />Another person like her would be to hard to find<br />She has a funny boyfriend<br />His name is Mr. Brad<br />This woman is Ms. Kathy<br />Best teacher I’ve ever had!</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><em>From Breyandel Santos</em></div><div align="center"><em>Thanksgiving Break</em></div><div align="center"></div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-33988363073007652442008-11-16T16:27:00.000-08:002008-11-17T20:24:15.799-08:00Happy (almost) TURKEY Day<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4yPaYTzZCs4NfQv2_Gm9Nx6vkDj2bBJlpcZam3ydsr6cbzRH3RTcq-cVqhK6vJTOb98Gk9craXCIydBC_lOIpDIxVNqcxB2ZN8X8_iseqhdeUWw91c3uIqirrVgGCcv0g7bReXzubu_js/s1600-h/thanksgivingcartoon.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269847465347915458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 218px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4yPaYTzZCs4NfQv2_Gm9Nx6vkDj2bBJlpcZam3ydsr6cbzRH3RTcq-cVqhK6vJTOb98Gk9craXCIydBC_lOIpDIxVNqcxB2ZN8X8_iseqhdeUWw91c3uIqirrVgGCcv0g7bReXzubu_js/s320/thanksgivingcartoon.gif" border="0" /></a> I could just picture Gypsy (Glen and Lindsay's dog) and Meatball having this conversation. I just can't decide who the instigator would be. </div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-18462627234948578742008-11-04T23:38:00.000-08:002008-11-04T23:46:17.995-08:00YES WE CAN!<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKCwvxIXAKZUxohqojDXkOIU7d-WXCSqQCnPc5QSGx8VJ8GUCveY7R7DTmtc_3qwl8WZ4l5RRQPBLZfmQZeMARtKl8kj2meKKuKRH8Wo04Y2BrvUcOvGHLk7nuAbfpPalsRqWHGby27YGJ/s1600-h/1st+family%21.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKCwvxIXAKZUxohqojDXkOIU7d-WXCSqQCnPc5QSGx8VJ8GUCveY7R7DTmtc_3qwl8WZ4l5RRQPBLZfmQZeMARtKl8kj2meKKuKRH8Wo04Y2BrvUcOvGHLk7nuAbfpPalsRqWHGby27YGJ/s400/1st+family%21.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265075070468884866" border="0" /></a><br />AMAZING!<br />As unpolitical as I choose to be, watching Obama give his victory speech was overwhelming. Having Brad and Angelo cry at the same moment was just as priceless.<br /></div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-49296358316161913792008-11-04T19:56:00.000-08:002008-11-04T21:18:28.472-08:00What Fairy Tale?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlBcRX2eWVvohe-IRxBzzvExwDoA65qjuxE_ixRXm_rV8oaUyiNDbJveE0aBcHBFT9o7a3WjEDmpMx4p75IkyqpbNZsrnWVMbqrTP_Za4AMVlvwIO-nF4swlm48D2JLF9fX-pFdFygc8g0/s1600-h/golden_castle.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265020225096549970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 166px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlBcRX2eWVvohe-IRxBzzvExwDoA65qjuxE_ixRXm_rV8oaUyiNDbJveE0aBcHBFT9o7a3WjEDmpMx4p75IkyqpbNZsrnWVMbqrTP_Za4AMVlvwIO-nF4swlm48D2JLF9fX-pFdFygc8g0/s200/golden_castle.jpg" border="0" /></a>Fairy tales are myths. Happily Ever After’s are as uncertain as the vote Sarah Palin will receive from her mother in law. That is just the painful reality of love.<br />I’ve been living with my boyfriend for quite a while now. It was a decision that hurt a lot of people in our lives (but that’s a whole different story). There are days of exhilarating happiness, of natural high, and moments when confusion is strapping, it binds you in pain.<br />A few days ago, Brad was talking to a mutual friend on the phone. After we said our hi’s and hello’s she mentioned how different Brad and I are although we are both water signs (Scorpio and Cancer). Whether I believe in the interpretation of stars or not, the truth in her remark astounded me. This wasn’t the first time I’ve heard it but it was surprisingly the first time my thoughts swiveled … was her comment just based on astrology or was it because she knew us in various periods of our lives? It’s true both Brad and I enjoy the outdoors and revere the thrill of new adventures (among others) but there are a lot of things we say or do that raises an eyebrow and some that gets our blood churning.<br />He could make himself laugh when I could find the same comment completely insulting. We could be wrapped in a sweet snuggle at the same time he decides to pass gas. He is amazingly comfortable and great at entertaining big crowds while I have to seek for familiar faces in a small room. At times I wonder if our unlike personalities would clash and leave us in pieces.<br /><div><div><div><div align="justify">When we have days where we struggle to adjust or accept differences, I often ask someone what ever happened to happily ever after. Once a wonderful friend, Vince, said “oh sweetie, it doesn’t exist.” It was like watching the beginning of Shrek when it starts off with the traditional opening 'Once upon a time...' and is then cut off when Shrek says 'What a load of...' (for the record, I thought that was hilarious).<br />Albeit that painful reality, my heart continues to skip when I hear his car pull in the parking lot or when I get a random call that begins with “I just had to tell you first.” I still love the comfort of having him in the next room or falling asleep on the sofa watching a movie (especially without the flatulence) and of course the lilies that make an ordinary day special.<br />I don't envy those who live in blissful ignorance, waiting for their fairytale to happen, not anymore. I’ve already accepted that my life won’t be filled with dragons, witches, damsels in distress, or a pineapple under the sea, that’s what Disney World is for. Although I will continue to believe that once in a while in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a taste of magic. </div></div></div></div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-52481033484764246412008-10-23T21:03:00.000-07:002008-10-23T21:56:12.672-07:00Happy UN Day!<div align="center"><em>We will be judged in the future on the actions we take today -- on results. On this United Nations Day, let us rededicate ourselves to achieving them."<br /></em><em>Ban Ki-moon, Secretary-General</em> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="justify">One of the wonderful things about celebrating United Nations Day is that it isn’t solely an American holiday but a day to celebrate unity with countries that form the UN. With all the negativity and chaos in our daily lives, it is a relief to know that other people continue to make an effort to uphold social progress, human rights and world peace.</div><div align="justify">Last year, my 2nd grade class represented India. With the help of Rahul’s parents we were able to dress the kids in Sari and Dhoti. Today, we were the Boricua’s and Borrinqueño’s of Puerto Rico! Ms. Nora and I had a blast painting the flag on our kids faces. </div><div align="justify"><br /> </div><div align="center"><em></em></div><div align="center"><em>HOLA! from PuertoRico<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260573288922361682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnfXTEraBB9jiCEnnU4B8FHoBLRNLQo6L1WCabbG6qiHQVflzaKG-2rf6fRNkFGnkraht0fMxN_5x-H3aPI03QJN8cMYsCMWy9b_9Y1bt_kIZLWbq6Sz0OW3f2wXOEJROqlgjia5UPxWut/s320/CIMG0716.JPG" border="0" /></div></em><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /><em>Ms. Aguon with her beautiful dress and GiNOROMOUS hat representing the CNMI</em> </div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260568766428242834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8RnIlNPHfMLTSHa3TIHIYMqKpqIDvWK7glhSyKkfbUbP35pFbvzIIzjEuX0KsxqDBJ2kLh3frDJrDiq5LSZAJzwjs7rwPmshkOIt9lpG8cCVk_sZO335h37W8RF8CF1CrSYYKrz9Ags_c/s320/CIMG0729.JPG" border="0" /><br /><em>This kids class made up commandments to represent Egypt...</em></div><div align="center"><em>(zoom in to the first commandment, you'll get a kick out of it)</em><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260568754322716450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGGj0zZubcnKK6wF4sRJ0PxXoTYiPpFcntNCItn1U5w5txd908ET-fSEuUZVG-xcOlhtUhItX9mjn70cgn5uCnhXCC5k3y006AOamnUcaVxS5vHjujrzvTmawrQSCsyK7jHzVZCx58Nuaj/s320/CIMG0728.JPG" border="0" /><span style="FONT-FAMILY: Georgia; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-: EN-USfont-family:'Times New Roman';color:blue;" ><?xml:namespace prefix = v ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:vml" /><v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75" stroked="f" filled="f" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" coordsize="21600,21600" spt="75" preferrelative="t"> </v:shapetype></span></div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-25282798056273982008-10-09T20:59:00.000-07:002008-10-09T21:00:33.314-07:00Classroom ConversationsAnakin: Fish belongs to meat and beans category<br />Armstrong: No it doesn’t<br />Anakin: Of course it does…<br />Armstrong: It doesn’t because when we go to church and we can’t eat meat, we eat fish. So it doesn’t belong there, right Ms. Kathy?<br /><br />In this case Anakin is right, but I’m not saying you’re wrong. When it comes to religion or culture a lot of things differ.<br /><br />Anakin: Well that explains it, I’m American.<br />Well so is he.<br />Armstrong with a bewildered look: Im not American, Im Chamorro.Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-9968011790918657742008-10-09T20:30:00.000-07:002008-10-09T20:40:42.153-07:00Cinquain<div align="center">A Shot Glass<br />See Through<br />Confusing Thoughts<br />Painful<br />A Tear</div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-73175216955518474352008-10-05T23:57:00.000-07:002008-10-06T00:37:55.377-07:00Dog Eating Moth<div align="justify">Meatball has grown twice her size in the past three months. She learned how to sit, lie down, crawl, and give her paw when you command her to do so… alright so there’s gotta be a treat on the other hand (it's a work in progress). </div><div align="justify">Although, she'll jump in the water without a command or a goodie. We might have her take diving classes soon :) </div><div align="justify">Brad also managed to teach her how to chase her tail and eat live animals such as baby geckos and moths. She can now survive in the wild!<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qrZeRKEUYM0&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qrZeRKEUYM0&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-23741010838838347492008-09-18T00:30:00.001-07:002008-09-18T01:28:31.904-07:00Three Liner Pix<div align="center">UNDER THE SEA...</div><div align="center"><em>(Brad Derksen Photos)</em></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieievPS3olNEWqVNKMm9GrTpssBB4qM6ezEcqa6a4uhzR4gafWKvd_8kgFda-8elfDb3HHRKm-eAUJzV2aAghsCcoj9eOd6LuW2F1l5Z6vOjdV5S8b80j5SdP_tOhfhwINXRX-TD-7P0LM/s1600-h/turtle"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247269454330427730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWyFYXJ35HGB_m9aS6GU8L7v5suONY25hEbEKh3o70BYkyZwz5xfgSRGiMorL6eWtLx1wUL-8LOeqPBnqeKA-bwPwodAHrwwSwQ2aZ0GVBRj257tY2BwpIQTzLO4vA96qcIlpOsJKEUcwI/s320/anemone" border="0" /></a></div><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247270202174661778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieievPS3olNEWqVNKMm9GrTpssBB4qM6ezEcqa6a4uhzR4gafWKvd_8kgFda-8elfDb3HHRKm-eAUJzV2aAghsCcoj9eOd6LuW2F1l5Z6vOjdV5S8b80j5SdP_tOhfhwINXRX-TD-7P0LM/s320/turtle" border="0" /></div><div align="center">WHERE IS MEATBALL?<br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247271724287112226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCilkF6s-YyvY-O3Wm2GR7gjFUW0UpObpr2GK-rGSLjWFX5Rf0xV_WAnYsC7SmQjQjkN_-YT4-s9pz96y2nBIcXMPhZm7fX9h4pw5ht6DRCK15W3rDfTVvtEUu1Fe1P4A0OvWG4Oh5fnA-/s320/meatball.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"> HUGS AND KISSES<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247268981330977522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGuArhOdceui70kiZrCpNMHPs8LT8NARLAlgWw0xpFwxUVqtnITD67yhya9qImPldbkPdGXc8f3D2Ptk7lRY1w7GSKkZpraI349xqfz2V-6EbDNXJNvi5__I-mBEaq7B2ihQ2k6Mb-ltIm/s320/CIMG0473.JPG" border="0" /></p><br /><div align="center">READING WITH CAUTION<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247268990083579074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhetgFoba8mhiWHIKC52jm-5jYNZ1ZSdnYU5OmbSVxUhGZSQ5KqagxRwyv7vQ9nLwO7Zk3mBqF9BeEgm49OctBDZ3Uc5ZdS95RS0ZbXtXlaGY44Y9wHBQQYKUGCteWxkFY3e3yCnIJLWszW/s320/CIMG0541.JPG" border="0" /> </div><div align="center">HOPPIN' WHITE PARTY!<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247269452489555186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8AhBZHkS2kx045Vuem3nIGPUW9Fk5_dm2ccuvtitBrKpwjQjdeRrQzPBDfpx4FzBfD3JPGYwq8MbXSsoJLWyoDHYp9Ly4aUpbK4hks6y0i7R8_X9stSWTKZNt6jdjLg7C80GncybH83SQ/s320/white+party.JPG" border="0" /></div><div align="center"><br />THAT'S A PLANE?!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247269003285633682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2_OpauoU2eu-70uq_Dg0SvbShWf_6382mDMDmOnXTGInUrYTmhBS0DcHcESKzoNVSyvijZv_k876gOPTUY3aj8znRUVOV7wRqtXFbJE1k0PvsrqZ5ttMNiSEaJMBCNeWv5j-ZVnj60ERZ/s320/CIMG0560.JPG" border="0" /></div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-47989257993881534842008-09-18T00:30:00.000-07:002008-09-30T20:19:08.418-07:00The Beautiful Blue<div align="center"><em>As I stand on the shore, the ocean calls me into submission.<br />As I feel the warmth of the tropical water, my heart beats a little bit faster.<br />As I submerge into the beautiful blue, I gaze at this world… </em></div><div align="center"><em>vast, magnificent, both eerie and astonishing.</em> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="left">On a sunny Sunday afternoon, Brad and I went on our second couple dive at Lau Lau. We followed the familiar pipe that led us out into the open. As my senses were heightened to the cracks and pops of the crustaceans, Brad pointed at a Green Sea Turtle. While its rear flippers were steering itself and its front were gliding through the water like a bird using its wings, we found ourselves swimming alongside it. It was INCREDIBLE! The next morning, we drove and dove at the same sight before we headed to work…<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ5XcDl8dWqKBI6AuhMYFuVj1SJ3FEqek6o98d2KE4Mc1i1y3gHvDn7MVISnbgXJWzcxwhOaequ3Ngf1pc4VoyoU0ZObXJ86TYU9hbpmXCGuBwuwK8pVmcbzmcvEh9DmIdal_cBY0bMGFi/s1600-h/eel_coral.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247262457458677058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ5XcDl8dWqKBI6AuhMYFuVj1SJ3FEqek6o98d2KE4Mc1i1y3gHvDn7MVISnbgXJWzcxwhOaequ3Ngf1pc4VoyoU0ZObXJ86TYU9hbpmXCGuBwuwK8pVmcbzmcvEh9DmIdal_cBY0bMGFi/s200/eel_coral.jpg" border="0" /></a>The weekend before that, we went out with veteran divers, <a href="http://www.harryblalock.blogspot.com/">Harry</a>, <a href="http://www.kellionsaipan.blogspot.com/">Kelli </a>and Mike. Harry suggested we take a look at Wing Beach and Grotto. Brad looked at me and knew I was doing a silent dance of joy. In my excitement, I plunged in the waters of Wing Beach with the snorkel still in my mouth... drinking enough salty water to keep me hydrated for a marathon. The crevasses at this place were unimaginable.<br /><br />When we immersed in Grotto waters and went through caves, I looked up and realized I could hardly see the surface. There was no shore waiting for me, just open water. I started feeling tense and woozy, it didn’t help that my mask was fogging up. But in spite of that, there was a greater sense of satisfaction than fear… <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW_lbEYF7fLIZckiatm98V_xjoALF9ejybOouc3VY4Xa3eLvUSpARqV97DcXECSC8MxZWZ9oqqTfHOrFGSWGkFI1TbIJfsopZrQ0Of8eFUkua6iCR2GDdj9FmxXiaSHcCiUGz6qn_6mpl5/s1600-h/b_k_behind.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247261343119879554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW_lbEYF7fLIZckiatm98V_xjoALF9ejybOouc3VY4Xa3eLvUSpARqV97DcXECSC8MxZWZ9oqqTfHOrFGSWGkFI1TbIJfsopZrQ0Of8eFUkua6iCR2GDdj9FmxXiaSHcCiUGz6qn_6mpl5/s320/b_k_behind.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><p align="left"><em>(pictures taken by </em><a href="http://www.kellionsaipan.blogspot.com/"><em>Kelli Blalock</em></a><em>)</em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW_lbEYF7fLIZckiatm98V_xjoALF9ejybOouc3VY4Xa3eLvUSpARqV97DcXECSC8MxZWZ9oqqTfHOrFGSWGkFI1TbIJfsopZrQ0Of8eFUkua6iCR2GDdj9FmxXiaSHcCiUGz6qn_6mpl5/s1600-h/b_k_behind.jpg"></a></p>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-30382734629826219452008-09-16T00:46:00.000-07:002008-09-16T00:51:40.788-07:00Fan belt and beyond<span style="font-family:georgia;">So my fan belt broke. Now I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere waiting for rescue. Okay, so it’s not the middle of nowhere. I’ve managed to name at least three landmarks such as the stoplight by NMC, Western Union and the old garment factory. If you live out here, you could locate me in a jiffy.<br />While Boy, the mechanic, and his partner are mending my ant infested Rav, I am typing away, thanks to the power of my smart phone and EVDO, as well as enjoying a power bar called TWIX.<br />We literally had three months of summer during which I’ve managed to check most blogs in a week and have discovered new ones that are just as fascinating. Now, nada. Despite bloggable moments, there was no way I could manage to sneak in a few minutes to type out a couple of lines. I guess breaking down isn’t so bad, especially when you’re not in the middle of a freeway.<br /><br />So here are some updates.<br /><br /><strong>Papa</strong>. Seeing him in his current situation is heart breaking. He usually has a million things to say when I drop him to dialysis on Mondays and Fridays. But now, the most I get from him is an unsure “NO!” (I asked if he wanted to listen to some music). I just found out that he’s back in the hospital, under observation.<br /><br /><strong>My new set of 2nd graders</strong><em>.</em> This year I have 7 staff kids and more from parent requests. My coworker said that this is probably the highest form of compliment I could get from the other teachers. It is pretty flattering but I also feel pressured about the unspoken expectations. Also, I could never get used to not missing my old class.<br /><br /><strong>Meatball.</strong> She is a giant terror! She responds to Brad’s “HEY!” while she barks back at my “NO!”<br />When I ignore her, she puts on this pouty face and hides behind the couch. How can I not fall for that?<br /><br />Alright, they are done with my ride. More updates later…<br /><br />Diving… I gotta write about diving. It’s been a definite thrill. </span>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-58564848590395799202008-08-17T15:23:00.000-07:002008-09-18T00:43:35.000-07:00Bubble Paradise<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Bjl-S4tMfnUuBWgh7q5vGEaCc5fP4lKvBtVZBa8pz1tDcedmHP-bKa4RYqrekbsUTVghnXE6MtAL7sTcsDhmUuWwn1_svRPcsS5UfcAl7-4mZtVBfZRX3eHBQtByxM_poVGpWP_1E2p2/s1600-h/CIMG0391.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235618687018990610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Bjl-S4tMfnUuBWgh7q5vGEaCc5fP4lKvBtVZBa8pz1tDcedmHP-bKa4RYqrekbsUTVghnXE6MtAL7sTcsDhmUuWwn1_svRPcsS5UfcAl7-4mZtVBfZRX3eHBQtByxM_poVGpWP_1E2p2/s320/CIMG0391.JPG" border="0" /></a>I looked up and saw the stream of bubbles coming out of my regulator. I couldn’t believe I was down there. I couldn’t believe I was 38 ft. underwater. A wave of nervousness came over me, but I suddenly realized that everything as incredible as this holds a piece of peril. It was now up to me to either face my silent fear or bask in this beauty. I’m glad I chose the latter because I gazed and marveled at this new world. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="left"><em>(pix: I can set up my gear!)<br /></div></em><div align="justify">Thanks to the other Brad, My Brad and I were fortunate to have met a marvelous PADI dive instructor, Mike. He and dive masters, Harry Blalock and Brad Derksen (aka: the other Brad) led us to scenic Lau Lau where we did our first two open water dives. During our first decent, I had trouble equalizing, causing a squeeze in my ears. It took me a good three minutes before I got to 20 ft. where they were patiently waiting. Truthfully, one of the three frequent divers made sure that I was taking my time to get use to the pressure and led me to slightly ascend if I had too. It made such a difference. As we swam towards the coral, it made me think of all the walk-through aquariums I’ve visited and submarine rides I’ve taken my classes to. I knew then diving was exponentially beyond compare. When we reached the reef, we saw a Hawksbill Turtle feeding from the corals. How lucky was I?! My first dive and a turtle was in plain sight! The reef was nothing like I imagined. An array of creatures brilliantly illuminated the water. From a school of diverse fish and a scorpion stonefish creeping in the sand to the marvelous tube worm and Christmas tree coral, everything was incredible. We swam for 38 minutes before we did our initial ascend.<br /></div><div align="justify">During our second dive, we demonstrated skills that we learned the day before. We had to be able to take off our weights in the surface in case of an emergency, perform a snorkel/ regulator exchange, tow a tired diver, and remove cramps. Then we submerged back into the beautiful blue, this time equalizing wasn't a setback. We executed how to get rid of a flooded mask, what to do when someone or you signal that you're out of air, manually inflate our BCD (buoyancy control device), and breath bubbles when sharing air with another diver. Then we went back to exploring the reef. This time we saw a Green Sea Turtle, again, amazing! </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Diving will undeniably be part of our adventure. Well, that is if we start reading our books and pass the certification test. </div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-29985526811306797462008-08-04T20:31:00.000-07:002008-08-04T20:33:55.802-07:00Meet MEATBALL!<object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/e6WZsGWPis0"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/e6WZsGWPis0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-25022614765482553502008-08-02T22:47:00.000-07:002008-08-03T17:42:28.465-07:00Sisters Day Out<div align="center"> A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves<br /></div><div align="center">and very much not ourselves - a special kind of double.</div><div align="center">-- Toni Morrison</div><div align="center"> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230455865140380546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMEUmEYUaWKld0wt0zOCGl_A0w7vn0pmY_unld_p11lFMtXV3FZltfDbe4QFAwbYmJAAH7nyzpWqEKPmv2974cUjp_rGxOjAtsyNLLhIHEAC2t10XsOND9PmvXd6Jw8nNCBb76HGhpxRcY/s320/lovelle.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em>A relaxing day at Mandi Asian Spa</em><br /></p><p align="justify">We battled, we patched up. We die laughing at secret jokes when no one else was amused. We threw some of the harshest words at each other but guarded ones back when others meant harm.<br />Through some of the toughest times, we were stifled and muted by each others presence. Yet through it all, the cold eventually thaws and melts away and we're right back to where we've left it, that is, like nothing has ever been missing... </p>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-87939623819975172492008-08-01T19:41:00.000-07:002008-08-01T19:44:52.211-07:00'Tis a Mad, Selfish, Hungry WorldThe dogs are happy biting bones, Though meat, they never meet;<br />He’s back to work upon the pile And sorts the rocks from leaves;<br />There’s silence excepting the noise of scrambling for food found;<br />The garbage-dump’s a blessed spot, Where man and beast share food!<br />-John Celes<br /><br />My selfish version of hunger:<br /><br />A famished, lone-clad lady stands amidst a pot of soup<br />All searching through her mothers kitchen room for some left-over food;<br />The aroma of freshly baked empanada<br />Oh the thought of fruits, yogurt and granola;<br />Each time taking swigs from a bottle,<br />filled with cayenne, lemon and maple;<br />No hunger-pangs from master cleanse<br />yet thy lip yearns as she willfully contends.Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-57087747796354777032008-07-31T01:26:00.000-07:002008-07-31T05:16:09.042-07:00Personal Legend<div align="center">"The Soul of the World is nourished by people's happiness.</div><div align="center">And also by unhappiness, envy and jealousy. </div><div align="center">To realize one's destiny is a person's only real obligation. </div><div align="center">All things are one. And, when you want something, </div><div align="center">all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it. </div><div align="center">- The Alchemist</div><br /><div align="justify">The Alchemist made me think about my personal legend. Did I learn early in my life my reason for being and gave up on it so soon? Or am I already living the path that would take me there?<br />My favorite part of the book was when the boy looked up to the sky and said “You old sorcerer, you knew the whole story. The monk laughed when he saw me come back in tatters. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Couldn</span>’t you have saved me from that?” The voice on the wind said “No, you <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">wouldn</span>’t have seen the pyramids. They’re beautiful <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">aren</span>’t they?”<br />The book tells how we seek our dreams and treasures elsewhere and then find it at our doorstep. But it also spoke of love and how love leads us to strive to become better than we are.<br />On our way back from American Samoa, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Reo</span> (a colleague) and I were walking around <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Pago</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Pago</span> airport to kill 4 hours of waiting time and to find gum. We ended up in this little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">café</span> that sold native war clubs, artifacts, and a few selections of books. As we were scanning through the pages, a man sitting on a wooden stool jumped in our conversation. He recommended this tiny book on the shelf. Before we knew it, he was telling us about his journey through Tahiti, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Bora</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Bora</span> and the other exquisite islands of French Polynesia. Evan, who is a retired pilot, was on a sailing trip. During his voyage he obtained a near death concussion that made him pray for death daily. The one thing that kept him from giving in was his quest for love. </div><br /><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaGEhufKojt9Vffl4zEP-wg9iiHkWEibS3CJfaJ5HZ4MNNal0AxUATLxFgvU-kN6X0O84dgdcDYcOAIPfUUMsaiKe_1zxlzjOWznmNkJQtzywbBoDXfcuJBvYbWxRhxWG1PLBW6uIPRphJ/s1600-h/swellsvoyage.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229095806030089058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaGEhufKojt9Vffl4zEP-wg9iiHkWEibS3CJfaJ5HZ4MNNal0AxUATLxFgvU-kN6X0O84dgdcDYcOAIPfUUMsaiKe_1zxlzjOWznmNkJQtzywbBoDXfcuJBvYbWxRhxWG1PLBW6uIPRphJ/s200/swellsvoyage.jpg" border="0" /></a>You see, this Irish guy met an amazing surfer who is currently sailing her 40 foot sailboat to surf spots around the world. In order for him to be with her, he has to catch up on his own boat. In fact, he was on his way home that day and had made plans to sail off from Florida. This quest for love would take him almost a year. As he was telling us his story, we were immersed in his passionate pursuit. He talked about how a girl like Liz could possibly chose to love him. I don’t know what kind of guy Evan was before or what he will be in the future, but in those few moments I knew he has found his treasure, his personal legend. And hopefully like the boy in the Alchemist, the universe would conspire to help him achieve it. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">I googled up Liz's sailboat and found this...</div><div align="left">"The voyage of Swell is a return to the essence of surf exploration. It is the pure enjoyment of elemental pleasures and absolute indulgence in the enlightenment of travel. It is a journey to promote respect for our natural environment, especially the ocean, to appreciate cultural differences, to challenge myself, and to inspire others to face their fears and live out their dreams." - Liz Clark</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">I know I’m not destined to do great things that would awe or influence the world like discover how to turn lead into gold or transform man into wind. But I hope that the little things that I do, the things that I’m passionate about, would turn into something great, someday. </div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-45079551741683337952008-07-24T17:51:00.001-07:002008-07-24T19:28:42.585-07:00Diving Anyone?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRN6II4qVS0h_XlIWwj1ycIsh1bm8LEk8zwtzyb7KU55jmYD581nch8qrpuutBDHnnr2WAurd00YWWEOcAWe3jr447esBC-RFoBOKyt1T5pfVmnu6MXFuu7P9R2QxY8RGBsELjI9uQ0cHx/s1600-h/scuba-clipart-12.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226750982846064674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRN6II4qVS0h_XlIWwj1ycIsh1bm8LEk8zwtzyb7KU55jmYD581nch8qrpuutBDHnnr2WAurd00YWWEOcAWe3jr447esBC-RFoBOKyt1T5pfVmnu6MXFuu7P9R2QxY8RGBsELjI9uQ0cHx/s200/scuba-clipart-12.jpg" border="0" /></a>I don’t know what it is but when I don’t see anyone within three yards I panic underwater.<br /><br /><div align="justify">At times, those lovely seaweeds that lend beauty to the underwater landscape scare the beejezus out of me. When I swim over it, I imagine creatures dragging me underneath the deep dark end, even though I know that those large marine algae grow exclusively in the shallow waters. Once, we were snorkeling at Forbidden Island and I had to muster all my strength to swim through a small cavern. </div><div align="justify"><br />So here I am on a beautiful Friday morning searching online for a dive instructor. That’s right folks I am determined to overcome my inhibitions, my ingrained fear of the deep beautiful blue. </div><div align="justify"><br />Now, will anyone help me out of my dive-despair? </div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7049070337569507420.post-13168964631144874932008-07-16T01:17:00.000-07:002008-07-16T01:59:58.646-07:00Why Teachers Rock!Mr. Evangelista (aka: Double E) handed me my birthday cupcake first thing in the morning...<br /><div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgod_8zafCaHnhyqYWBVSRAstfTwn7bDLhyphenhyphenaZAKVPKg9GgPMdfMs6U4GM_ttWHAnqUAtcIVOxyCRxVT_S5aRzdHtDCtE-k-WFw_28BsFPSESy7JUTM1odqfDCAlGYp5b4ZKT1rBqeQBYyHl/s1600-h/P7140498.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223523747340016578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgod_8zafCaHnhyqYWBVSRAstfTwn7bDLhyphenhyphenaZAKVPKg9GgPMdfMs6U4GM_ttWHAnqUAtcIVOxyCRxVT_S5aRzdHtDCtE-k-WFw_28BsFPSESy7JUTM1odqfDCAlGYp5b4ZKT1rBqeQBYyHl/s320/P7140498.JPG" border="0" /></a> Mr. J Hofschneider gave me this beautiful Samoan Lei and bought me ICE CREAM!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEWS7HmZxfsRegtbU-HWtMFqdTAQ3KiOxBI5FGWGEYyMAFmCJDt5hH5vpgsQ4PYDijgZ7_g33qTnluR4qDPeX9ALxXaC33UAzJpsqzwpnVOSb_rJs98n9QoVjzxZE6MaTBSx2O4HXz5UP/s1600-h/P7140501.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223523747839300546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEWS7HmZxfsRegtbU-HWtMFqdTAQ3KiOxBI5FGWGEYyMAFmCJDt5hH5vpgsQ4PYDijgZ7_g33qTnluR4qDPeX9ALxXaC33UAzJpsqzwpnVOSb_rJs98n9QoVjzxZE6MaTBSx2O4HXz5UP/s320/P7140501.JPG" border="0" /></a> These wonderful educators sang "Happy Birthday" on the windy streets of Samoa.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223527845340424466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGhkmgcTDR1AKdXGUO15-DMfXzYrAzdU4_DVfhLuZga0LMMpnDaJgAjuoEtWPvgRwBX2EQDj2coAHqFg_C4tIRVD99XWZTHmcRiY8BAecdtskVhU3KMp5vCvkW9rlmfpP5u588-T6y2or-/s320/P7140500.JPG" border="0" /></div><div align="center">Witnessing the traditional Samoan dance was a GREAT Bonus!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223527849083876402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoB2HkqDZ1mAHVa9kXd0R1-sv0cIkGophZaC1qoiFQwuiMQiG59hV3rEtSZuS9IG-S_xN4QcWEHwWj6q99njgN0khZV-Ib2rMPg8QsYidnwZNi9PxnIvFsuLuphSbsmZgrI1jUc8e4hDW7/s320/P1110583.JPG" border="0" />There are a lot of uncertain things in life, but I know that teachers will always find a way to make you feel loved, no matter where you are. </div></div>Saipan Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01737227250199939151noreply@blogger.com3