I'm packed and ready to go...which is easier and easier with every trip. My bag for 2.5 weeks is size of a nerdy junior high-schooler's bookbag.

I've now posted stories and pictures from my fabulous trip to the Dominican Republic.
For once, I wrote my entires before hand...which may lead to a little confusion. Usually my site reads from the bottom up...but this time I've posted the entries in chronological order, part 1-5, this being part 1...the last being part 5.
Go ahead and read from here down and follow my little trip. Hey...keep reading if you haven't seen the site lately.
I hope you enjoy reading this even one hundreth as much as I enjoyed this trip...at least a little anyway.
Cheers,
*Liz

At breakfast, on my Santo Domingo hotel’s lovely fourth floor terrace, the butter melted. By melted I don’t mean softened and was easy to spread, I mean melted into a slick yellow puddle. It was 9:30am.
Needless to say, it’s hot here.

The hotel terrace..

I’ve learned two new Spanish words (at least). 1) Hormiga, which means ant. 2) Picadura, which means bite. Now, put the two together.
Oh, how the insects love me! I’m just sweet, what can I say? I am speckled with bites, as I often am anywhere there happens to be bugs of the biting variety. It started right away: my first night in Santo Domingo my bed was full of ants. I couldn’t figure out what was itchy because they were so small, but they were there. And oh man, they were biting!
Now, on to other Dominican things…

Hormiga!!!

My first night at The Coconut Palms resort I was already meeting lots of people. One woman named L, a very young looking grandmother visiting with her grandson and his friend, told me she came to the resort often. I took this as a good sign. Then, she told her stories…

I took to life in the resort with aplomb. As my skin browned I fell into an easy rhythm of relaxation. My days contained nothing more stressful then remembering to apply sunscreen. Aaaaahhhhhhh…I could get used to this kind of travel.

Sunny shores are hard to dislike...

This was taken in Haast, New Zealand...and I just wanted to put something pretty on my blog today...so here ya go.

I go to far too few concerts for someone who loves music so ardently. But I wasn't going to let Lollapalooza pass me by, even if it was in Chicago. There was a very special name on the bill, someone I've been trying to see for years...

It is with an incredibly heavy heart that I write this post, in memory of my Grandfather: Walter Conklin.
February 16th, 1918 -- July 12th, 2006