IMG_5187

Wifi is like crack when you’re traveling. Once you find a hot spot, nothing else matters except your tiny window of communication with the world. You never want to leave it, and when you actually have left it, you’re wondering when you can get back to it. It feels so wrong to be so addicted to on-screen social experiences, but on the other hand, it IS the only method of communication to loved ones back home. I think that’s what was hardest for me the following days in Sydney–the inability to talk to Adam whenever I wanted, or to let family know what I was up to at any point in time.

But we press on. The second day in Sydney saw us bent over our iPhone screens for 30 minutes of wifi at Starbucks before we boarded a bus to Bondi Beach.

IMG_5119

FYI there’s graffiti on the buses there too.

IMG_9674

IMG_9669

It was a bit gloomy but not bad at all for a beach visit. Especially when you’re in Sydney for the first time, because pretty much anything sounds good always. So we got to Bondi beach and took a shit load of goofy and decent pictures.

IMG_5123 IMG_5134 IMG_5135

And wouldn’t you know it? The beach had free wi-fi.

IMG_9719

But it was all a pitiful sham. The wifi wasn’t really there, because we couldn’t access it. It was just a nice looking sign and a lie if I ever saw one, and none of us could connect to this falsely advertised wifi freedom. But we pressed on.

As we walked along the beach we saw a bunch of cool graffiti art. So much that I could never post enough pictures of it, but here are a few good ones.

IMG_9696 IMG_9711

And then there was this cool wall with different hats painted on it that you could sit under, one of which is my current Facebook profile picture.

IMG_9713

IMG_9716

Then, before we decided to venture towards the water to touch this side of the Pacific and the accompanying sand, we needed food, and more specifically, fish, chips, and booze. We found this great little place called The Bucket List if I remember correctly, and it turned out to be one of my favorite memories of our time in Sydney. The restaurant was painted a light blue inside, and had upside down wicker basket buckets over the lights, with art all over the walls. It was so artsy and awesome, the urge to Instagram everything was overpowering. Here are some of the shots we got inside the place.

IMG_5164 IMG_5165 IMG_5167

And outside the chairs were crates!

IMG_9730 IMG_9731 IMG_9737

And let me tell you, they served a mean basket of fish and chips. There was also this awesome drink called Race An Ostrich In Asia that was incredibly terrific. Something with vodka and something. It was orange and out of this world.

When we went to feel the sand a short time afterward, which by the way felt and looked exactly like brown sugar, I ended up going further out on the shore than I realized, soiling my boots completely from an unexpected wave of water. But I was in Sydney, so I pressed on. After Bondi we hopped on a bus to see the Tower, the tallest building (tower?) in Sydney, but we stopped at a few places on our way: the Anzac memorial, St. Mary’s cathedral, and this place called the Mint, where they make all the coins. The mint turned out to be a bust because it was closed, but the restroom was open, which we used, so technically that still counts as a visit.

By the time we got to the Tower my feet were a bit pained, but we pressed on. We bought tickets for the Tower and the Aquarium. The tower was awesome. It probably would have been more awesome were we able to have drinks and dinner up there, but it was a beautiful view none the less. This is what it looked like from the ground.

IMG_5207

And this is what it looked like from above.

IMG_5251 IMG_5258

We were also there when some major thing happened. Apparently someone left the door open to go outside on the balcony of the tower and some kids got out. You can’t walk out there without being firmly strapped in since it’s so dangerous and windy, but I guess some tour guide left the door open. It was no bueno, so there was a lot of security everywhere, and we pressed on.

We ended up stopping for a drink break afterward at this little pub that looked awesome on the outside but exactly like the reception area to a realtor’s office on the inside. It was really weird. Either way, we had a pint and toasted to life.

IMG_5276 IMG_5277Then it was off to the aquarium. At this point I think we were all slowly getting a bit tired, but no one admitted to it. It was only 6pm, and I was exhausted. I thought it was still from lack of plane sleep, but I soon found out that I’d be spending the entire week being exhausted by 6pm, because that meant it was 1am in Los Angeles.

Needless to say, towards the mid to end of the Aquarium viewing, we were starting to get a bit hungry and tired. By the time we decided to book it home for some Chinese food and possibly more Apples to Apples, it started to rain. Arthur said we’d have about a 30 minute walk back to the hotel, and at the outset that didn’t sound too bad, but it turned out to be fucking rough. No one had an umbrella but Andrew, and it was pouring with dozens and dozens of people everywhere. I was astounded at the number of people on the streets. It could have been like New York if I’d ever been there, but since I haven’t, I wouldn’t know. Arthur said it was a bit like Europe, but I’ve never been there either. One day. I’m a world traveler now.

By the time we reached the hotel we were all pretty burnt out as fuck, and soaked to the liver. The one thing we did agree on though, was Chinese food. That seemed to be the consensus. We dried off and set back out to a place that can only be defined as Chinese food row. I’m not sure exactly where we were in Sydney, but we walked up this alley where there were literally a dozen Chinese food restaurants lined up one after the other, with their owners out in front approaching passersby with menus and meal deals.

After finally deciding on a place, we made the trek back home in the rain and ate ravenously before drinking a little more for a nice sleep.

Probably the biggest thing of note on the next and last day of Sydney was the Harbour bridge clime. This was Wednesday, the day before we left. The Harbour bridge is pretty iconic in Sydney, and sits about 40 stories high.

IMG_5067At any given moment, there are tiny groups of people trekking to the top of it, rain or shine, including Will Ferrell.

IMG_9751

It was pretty expensive, but seemed fun in theory, and adventurous, and momentous, and unforgettable. And I maybe was talked into it by Arthur. I envisioned a sunny day, climbing a few steps to the top, completely strapped in and carefree. What I got was layers upon layers of clothing, droplets of rain all over, thin wooden beams to cross (with thin rails) right over the water, slippery metal, and lots of nervous tension in my everywhere there are body parts.

But don’t get me wrong, it was awesome.

The worst part of the entire thing was the ladder part. There are four medium sized ladders you have to climb before you get to the actual bridge climb over the arc, which is basically just a long metal staircase. Each ladder can only be climbed by one person at a time, so when it’s your turn to go, it’s just you and your own quiet insanity. I didn’t think too much of it waiting for my turn to go. We were under the bridge and couldn’t see above us, so when I saw each person go up the ladder and out of sight, I thought it was just a short ladder up and then the other few were scattered over more of the bridge. But I was fucking wrong. That shit was like ladder after ladder after ladder after ladder, all by yourself. And it’s not that it was just ladder after ladder, it was metal and slippery, and after the first one, you have to sort of climb out on to this platform adjacent to the ladder, before climbing up the next one.

When it was my turn to  go, I climbed up the first ladder, and felt confused. There was no one around. What happened to the people who went up before me? When I looked up, all I could see were ladders and metal extending upwards, and not a single person. Was I supposed to be going this way?

After the first ladder, I flipped out because I had to climb three more on my own. But I couldn’t let myself spaz out. There were people below waiting for me to go up, so I had to do it. It wasn’t like I could just climb back down. I was in a group. So I gripped the rungs on the ladder for dear fucking life. I told myself to just go slow and do it one at a time. I could feel myself getting higher and higher, while the rain trickled all around me. I could hear the cars from the highway below me. Below me. And as I climbed each rung in the ladder I could sense a growing distance between myself and the water below. Looking to my left or my right was death and out of the question, because there was nothing but water, sky, and cars below. There was no way I could concentrate on anything else but the ladder rungs in front of me. My inner nut case had to be sedated, because it was like climbing up the side of a tall building. It got to the point where I was just climbing a ladder, and I could see everything everywhere. It was scary as fuck.

I wasn’t afraid of falling into the water or onto the highway, because I was firmly strapped to the bridge. It was falling down each section of the ladders that scared the shit out of me. Each ladder held about 15-20 rungs on it, but I was afraid that when I’d got the top of each ladder I’d slip or slide down it, seriously injuring myself. Especially because it was so slippery and metal-ly everywhere.

When I finally made it to the top, the tour guide was smiling at me and all of the rest of our group was slowly ascending to the top of the bridge on what looked like very comfortable and non-threatening metal steps. I breathed a sigh of relief, and started to feel my body again. The tour guide started making conversation with me, but all I could think about was how high we were, and how I’d just climbed four fucking ladders on a bridge 40 fucking stories high. I was sweating all over the place, with simultaneous cold chills from the rain. It was the most insane experience ever.

The rest of the way was okay. We made it to the top of the bridge, and took a few pictures. And the steps going up and over the arc were really far away from the edge, so there was no real threat. It was still CRAZY to look out and see how high we were though.

625110518 625110523After we stood at the top of the bridge for a bit, we started to cross over the highway where we took another picture for shits and giggles. This part was scarier. Remember those wooden beams with thin rails I mentioned walking over at the outset of this bridge climb rant? That’s what we walked over at the top, over the highway, where we stood for longer than I care to remember. Only this time it was a long metal beam, not wooden ones, and there wasn’t much separating us from certain death.

625110538

By the time we had to climb back down those fucking ladders, I was tired, hungry, cold, and shaky. It took everything I had not to completely freak the fuck out and freeze in fright mid-ladder. I had to count, and breathe. I counted each step down because it helped me remember my sanity. By the time we reached the end of the climb, I was ready to drink myself into a stupor, and eat mountains of carbohydrates. And since this was our last night in Sydney, we did get a little drunk.

We ended up partying like rockstars in the hotel room, before walking (drunkenly) to this Polish restaurant Arthur wanted to check out. By the time we got there, I felt like I had been drinking all day, and I was tapped out. But I drank more and pressed on. We ended eating some pretty good grub and I videotaped a lot. Turns out, it was a good thing I did videotape, because no one remembers a thing from that dinner.

After dinner we made our way over to this little karaoke place near our hotel. It was awesome because they had private rooms where you could sing your little heart out in front of your friends versus strangers. We stayed there for about an hour, then made our way to Cheers, a bar a couple of blocks away from the karaoke place. Cheers is supposed to be the place where everybody knows your name but no one really cared to know ours. I also found out that that bar was open until 6 in the bloody AM. SIX AM. Could you imagine?

So that was our time in Sydney! I glazed over a lot because time, but that was the gist. Next post I’ll talk a little bit about the Brisbane part of our trip, which was where we traveled the next day, and have been about 5 days now. Also, as soon as I get home I’m going to put together an entire Mursa Pie video about this whole experience. I have so much video footage it’s insane. I can’t wait.

IMG_5074

“Margaritas, Long Islands, Mojitos and AMF’s are what we’re serving up tonight, all for $9.”

This was the opening line from our waitress at the airport before our flight to Sydney on Friday night, June 21st, setting the official mood for our trip down under. If this were a documentary on a clan of twenty something alcoholic Americans visiting Australia for the first time, that would be the opening line. (I kid about the alcoholic part. Really, I do. Or I’m in the denial stage.)

This is my first blog post since I started my very first world travel, and I definitely can’t fit everything in that I want to share with you all, so I figure I’ll write about it in slots.  This blog is about the first leg of the trip, (actually, the first day) which might be a bit long, but I’ll try to cover as much of it as possible, in as minimal words as possible, so as not to bore you to death, because firsts can be a bit boring when they’re drawn out.

Firstly, the plane. Oh yeah, pictures included. This was my seat.

IMG_9556

I of course had to take a picture of it. First item of note, it was a middle seat. Second item of note, it was a bit cramped. I tried not to fret though, as I was going to AUSTRALIA for bloody sake, and I figured once I got everything situated I would be fine. I was sitting in between two older gentlemen, both with Australian accents (naturally). As we finally took off about an hour after I boarded the plane, I realized all at once that holy fuck I would be in this seat for another 15 hours, and that at the first sign of “you are now free to move about the cabin” I would be booking it to the bathroom to wash up and prep for bed.

So around 11:45pm, I was up and about the cabin, moving about the country.  Er, the world. It felt great to wash my face and brush my teeth, and I told myself I would take out my contacts at some point on the flight when I was too tired to watch TV. I was a bit worried about the contacts though, because I knew as soon as I took them off, I’d be blind as a bloody bat and wouldn’t be able to see shit. But I figured it would force me to close me eyes, and also, it would give my left eye some relief, as it had been giving me grief ever since I got off work, and I didn’t want to leave them in so they could aggravate some kind of would-be infection.

And oh yeah, I was told there would be free booze on this flight? That was practically the first thing I thought about after we boarded. Around 1230am they started to serve dinner and drinks. I wasn’t hungry, but was feeling a bit sick and ready to be completely knocked out, so I ordered a vodka tonic. The steward apologized for making it ‘a bit heavy handed’ but I told him of course, that was nothing to be sorry for. I started listening to music and fiddling around with the flight path pictures on the entertainment screen thing in front of me, and became fairly unhinged at the sight of this:

IMG_9558

Seriously, why do they put that shit there. It’s extremely disorienting to know how far away from home you are. So I watched a bit of TV, and finally pulled out my contacts for some shut eye around 145am.

It was the worst shut eye imaginable. I think I slept for 30 minutes, woke up, then 30 more minutes, woke up, then maybe 50 or so more. At 7am I awoke with the most horrible nausea and crazy urge to pee, but of course, I was in the middle seat, and the gentleman next to me looked like he was in a very deep stage of REM sleep. I didn’t know quite what to do but endure it for another hour until I felt him adjust his position, at which point I bravely tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he could let me use the lou.

Breakfast came at around 10am, 12 hours into the flight. That was still US time though. I ended up watching a movie and turned it off shortly before we landed, feeling sick but too excited to let that sick have its turn. When we finally deplaned, I felt pretty disgusting. My hair felt oily and my clothes felt smelly, but I was excited to go through customs and get my very first stamp on my passport. As soon as we made our way out onto the train that would take us to our hotel, I took pictures of bloody everything.

IMG_5014 IMG_5026

IMG_5033

They call Burger King “Hungry Jacks” out here. I have yet to try it.

It was a bit cold, but I couldn’t feel it. The air smelled crisp and cleaner than back home. Or if it wasn’t cleaner, it was just different. A bit like the smell after rain combined with really fresh air.

We made our way out into the city from the train, and the sound the signal made to cross the crosswalk sounded like Pac Man (I videotaped it). And when I say “we” from here on out, I mean my friends (Arthur, Ted, Andrew) and myself, but just so you can put faces to names, these guys.

IMG_5029

We made our way to the hotel, called Break Free on George street, to drop off our bags. I just realized I didn’t take a picture of the outside of it, but it wasn’t much to see because it was mashed really close together in between two other buildings on a busy street. Here is the inside of the lobby.

IMG_5039

Since we had to wait for Roy and Dominique to meet up with us for official check in, (they were the people we came to see) we waited across the street at Starbucks for about an hour, where we were only able to access the internet for up to 30 minutes at a time with purchase. (Lame). It was at this Starbucks that I also became familiar with the currency. Coins meant much more than they did at home (there are $1 and $2 coins here), and there weren’t any restrictions on breaking large bills in coffee shops or anywhere else.

When we finally met up with Roy and Dominique, it was like a reunion of epic proportions. Roy is an old high school friend of mine, and I hadn’t seen Dominique since the day I met her, maybe in 2010. It was raining outside, and we were exhausted from the plane ride, but the buzz of being in a far away country with old friends was enough to get us going for our first adventure-filled day in Sydney, Australia.

Since we got to drop all of our luggage off at the hotel, and we couldn’t check in until 3pm, we hopped on a bus to the Sydney Opera House, which was conveniently located next to the Harbour bridge. Once there, we had a bit of a field day with the pictures.

IMG_5062

It was gloomy as hell initially, but I like to think the emerging sunlight a few minutes after our very first glimpse of the opera house was my dad’s doing.

IMG_5076

Shortly after we finished taking butt loads of pictures outside, we made our way inside for a tour of the opera house. I couldn’t get over the fact that I was in another country. Every time we moved an inch, I felt like taking a deep breath because it was all so new. Fresh memories were constantly being imprinted onto my brain. I couldn’t believe the ground I was walking on was so far away from home. I felt small, because I knew whatever I did down here would have absolutely no impact on anything back home. And what I mean by that is, I was all alone. I couldn’t just drive 40 minutes to see family and friends. I couldn’t just pick up my phone and call. It was bizarre and a bit mind bending. But moving on.

We had about an hour to kill before the opera house tour, so we all sat down at this bar/restaurant near the entrance for our first drink together. I was still wrapping my head around what time it was in the states too, and couldn’t figure out what kind of tired I should be.

Overall the opera house tour was cool. We got to wear head sets so we could hear our tour guide, who was a pretty cool guy. The opera house was sort of a tragic story too, because the guy who designed it never got to see the fruition of his design when the opera house was finally complete. I’d go into more, but you’re probably ready to quit reading at this point. I remember being exhausted on this leg of the journey myself.

After the tour we were all pretty much zombies. We headed back to the hotel to finally check in and get situated. And by situated, I mean…

IMG_9630

Now I can’t be certain, but I’m pretty sure we drank before we set about finding some dinner. We ended up getting some food from some Kebob place that felt like a random pitstop for food at 2am after a night of heavy drinking–but it was only 530pm. I couldn’t believe it. We knew we were leaving on the first day of summer in the states to arrive on the first day of winter in Australia, but the early sunset was going to take some getting used to. Especially when you’re not sure what time your body is functioning in, or exactly how much sleep you got on the plane. At any rate, standing in line for food felt like waiting at an In’n’Out after too many Tokyo teas in Weho. I think I was in need of much sleep.

Later on, we got drunk and played Apples to Apples until we got delirious. We placed bets on who could fit the most cheetos in their mouths, and of course I videotaped all. We told ourselves we had to stay awake until at least 9pm, even though I think we were all about ready to collapse at 7pm.

It took me 2 days to write this blog post, because I like to get so damn specific, and make it pretty and perfect, and that’s hard when you’re having so much damn fun. I do realize of course, that I just spent 1700 words on one day in Sydney, so I guess publishing this now would be good, so I can get started on the next chapter–er, blog post. Next time I’ll try not to get so specific, but so much happened after this first day that needs telling! That being said, I hope you’ve enjoyed this read, and I’ll be back in a jiff.

I miss you! And Australia says hi.

IMG_9615

 

Susan Cooper Headshot

This post is part of a weekly feature called the Passion Series…enjoy!

All the way from Brisbane, Australia, I’d like to introduce miss Susan Cooper. That is to say, I am in Australia, not Susan. (Australian blog post soon to follow).

But first, let’s talk about Susan. Her blog, Finding Our Way Now, defines her as a writer, artist, and accidental blogger (a phrase I love). Her blog posts revolve around recipes, daily experiences, and my favorite thing ever (or one of them): wine. She lives by a winery! How awesome is that. And what’s more? She’s formed relationships with a few PR firms to review all sorts of wines on her blog, a gig I think we can all appreciate.

I also love the way she presents her blog posts. They are neat like manicured lawns. In this one, she tells a story about her mom teaching her sister in law how to drive, and she created little digital cartoon-like pictures to illustrate the story. It was like watching a little cartoon, I loved it.

Here’s what she had to say.

Has blogging helped you in any emotional or creative way?

I am by nature a storyteller & teacher. My blog now allows me the opportunity to share the stories I use to teach lessons I learned in life and in the workplace. It has rekindled my passion for drawing. I love to cook, so it was natural that I would share all the fun & easy recipes I develop or find. I am lucky enough to live in the wine country. Partnering with multiple marketing and PR firms has allowed me the opportunity to share information about the various wines I find. Last but not least is my ever-popular art page where I demonstrate how I create my drawings.

What makes this all the more interesting is I am dyslexic. So the act of writing for me is a serious challenge. It often takes me four times longer to create an article then it does for others without this disability.

Has blogging daily/weekly helped you achieve any personal goals?

It has.  My goal was to have a successful blog that others would enjoy.  Through hard work and much help from various sources I’m getting there.

Because of blogging I have published a book and have others in the works.  At the encouragement of my readers, I am now offering my art for sale in various forms.  My interest in wine has attracted allot of attention and I now work with a few large PR firms to help support the vintners they represent. My blogging future looks very bright.

Does the ritual of daily/weekly blogging give you motivation to pursue things you are passionate about?

I’m already there.  The blog started as a diary and turned into a whole new outlet for me that never would have expected.  I now use my camera in ways I never thought possible,  I create my art on a weekly basis and I am now developing recipes that are shared by many.  I have a wonderful mastermind group that I started over a year ago that has grown into a very powerful work/help group with a waiting list to join.  Life is good, but what I have achieved so far has taken lot of learning, hard work, patience and determination.  I realize that it will take the same continued education, energy, patience and determination to continue to achieve the success I desire.

I’m extremely grateful to have had such an overwhelming response to this passion series, and sincerely thank Susan for sharing her story with the Novel Quest audience. Cheers!

——————————————————————————————-

This post is part of a series on bloggers who have found direction or passion through blogging. If you would like to be featured in the Passion Series, please contact me through this form with responses to the above questions, and share your passions. Thanks!

See all Passion Series posts >>

Sari Holtz

This post is part of a weekly feature called the Passion Series…enjoy!

Sari Holtz put it best when she said she always feels better venting with her fingers rather than her voice. I feel the exact same way. Something about putting feelings down through type makes me feel like I’ve just finished an hour long therapy session, and as a mother of five, Sari certainly went about it the right way.

Sari’s blog, Sariously Speaking, was given to her as a birthday present from her husband on her 29th birthday. While it’s a little tough to blog weekly with her love-bundle of children, she’s fairly active on the site, and her posts revolve around her life in Israel, and musings on parenting, loss, and life in general. I find myself getting lost in her posts because her life is so different from what I am used to here in the U.S., and the way she tells stories about her past makes me feel like I’m reading a terrific book. I am so grateful to have connected with a blogger who has such fresh life perspectives to share.

Here’s what she had to say.

Has blogging helped you in any emotional or creative way? 

I started blogging a bit more than two years ago, when my dear husband surprised me with a blog as a birthday gift.  It was my 29th birthday, and I was a bit stressed about the imminent 3-0, albeit a full year early!  I was feeling like I hadn’t really developed my own emotional maturity and that I didn’t really know myself well, so he/we thought a blog would be a good outlet for me to publicize some of my issues, concerns and confusions, and to get to know myself, perhaps for the first time.

Has blogging daily/weekly helped you achieve any personal goals?

I would say that the blog has helped me tremendously in the past few years.  I’ve had the opportunities to write about some really intense issues, both painful ones and happy ones, including the surgical repair of my son’s ears so that he could hear properly for the first time in his life, and the death of my beloved grandfather, with whom I shared a relationship so close it was almost hard for me to put into words (and I’m a professional writer!). 

By recording my thoughts on my blog, I’ve been able to take a critical look at the stressors in my life, many of which are real, and many of which are manufactured entirely by myself, and deserve to be revisited in a healthier way. Oftentimes, simply expressing my nervousness publicly makes me realize how much I have to be grateful for, and how sweating the small stuff is harming myself and my family.

Does the ritual of daily/weekly blogging give you motivation to pursue things you are passionate about?

As the full-time working mother of 5 young children, I’ve long felt that I don’t have any hobbies that are ‘my own’.  I don’t have time for regular yoga classes or women’s karaoke nights.  I don’t do scrapbooking or needlepoint, and I don’t prepare elaborate recipes for fun.  I can barely find time to make dinner on a regular day.  But blogging has changed this, and has helped me to understand that it’s ok to make time for myself – that I’m not just a wife and mother, but also my own person.  

In fact, following this realization, I’ve recently taken on my first ‘hobby’, which is building a new business, PearlClasp.com, an independent project that gives me creative freedom far beyond what my day job allows.  Sure, that may not be the leisure pursuit that most people would choose, but it works for me, and has given me the chance to work on an interesting idea because I want to, not because I have to.  Most importantly, blogging has become my creative outlet, my way to express myself and to understand myself in new and interesting ways, and I’ve found that I always feel better when I can share life’s joys and God’s gifts with a wide audience, or to vent with my fingers instead of my voice.

Feel free to browse some of Sari’s posts if you have some free time this week. She’d be more than happy to have you.

——————————————————————————————-

This post is part of a series on bloggers who have found direction or passion through blogging. If you would like to be featured in the Passion Series, please contact me through this form with responses to the above questions, and share your passions. Thanks!

See all Passion Series posts >>

I absolutely hate ads. Especially banners. I love my blog, I’m digging the way it’s laid out for the time being, and I absolutely do not want any huge blinking ads distracting you lovely people from what’s most important–being happy, passionate, and absorbing interesting content. I have, however, been wanting to experience with a little something called affiliate marketing, and it is for that reason that I’m going to very candidly speak about a couple small image links that are going to appear in the sidebar of A Novel Quest this week.

Basically, affiliate marketing is where you are sharing a sale with a business. You can place their banner or link on your website/blog for their service, and when someone on your blog signs up for that service, the owner of that blog will get a small commission from it. The good news is, the services I’m going to be putting in the sidebar of this blog are all awesome, and completely relevant to the things that I talk about.

The first one is already there in the sidebar under “Affiliates”. It’s called Blogging Your Passion, it’s a service that helps people get set up blogging about their passions. Well that is 100% me. I started a blog, discovered I have a million passions, and even started up a series to celebrate other people blogging about their passions. And ever since I started blogging about my passions, I’ve helped at least 3 people set up their own blogs so they could start blogging about their passions, so I think it’s a great resource to have here for anyone interested in that sort of thing.

The second one has to do with learning, something I wish I could do all day. The service is Lynda.com. I’m always talking about Skillshare.com, and how I’m taking classes to learn how to code and illustrate and all that, so I wanted to become affiliated with a program where I’m offering more opportunities for my blog readers to learn new things. Lynda.com is just like Skillshare, except instead of paying for courses, you pay about $25 per month for an unlimited amount of online instructional videos to learn all KINDS of awesome shit. I’m talking learning photography, business, 3D animation, you name it. They also have a 7 day free trial (affiliate link) in case you want to just browse first.

Lastly, I’m going to promote one of my favorite new sites that I have not learned how to make money with yet–fiverr.com. It’s a buying and selling marketplace for every single person with a brain and the ability to type. Basically, if you want to make a little extra money, you can become a seller and create what they call a ‘gig’ where you say what you will do for $5. (E.g. I will wear your t-shirt to Disneyland for $5). If you are a buyer, and you want something done for you without spending too much money, like a paper edited, or a product promoted, you can find someone on there who will do it for you for $5. It’s pretty great because you’ll find people are pretty much willing to do anything for $5, which is cheap as hell if you want stuff done for you and are low on dough. I even hired someone there to spruce up my resume for $5 American dollars last year. Amazing. On top of everything, they just redid their entire site, so it’s all nice and fancy now.

So in closing, I’ve officially become an affiliate for those three services, and I wanted to let you know that I am going to make a small percentage off of anything you purchase from this site. I am a full disclosure kind of gal when it comes to anything on this blog, because you have all given me such a gift already by visiting my blog, that I feel the need to speak to you as candidly as I would my own cat (if I had one). I see this blog as a shared house, and if I come home with a new sofa that takes up the entire living room because someone is paying me for you to sit on it, I’m obviously going to forewarn you.

So now, feedback time. Have you ever heard of those services or used them? What was your experience? Or, if you’re a blogger already, what’s your experience been like with affiliate marketing?

Thanks for stopping by!

P.S. Packing and prepping for Australia has been the best kind of crazy so far this year.

June 14, 2013

Australia

Well I finally got a laptop so I’m blogging on the couch. In other news, I’m going to Australia in one week, and I figured it was high time I talked about it.

I’m going to Australia for two weeks. My good friend Roy moved out there at the end of 2011 to be with his wife, and since then I have been saving up to visit him, along with three of our other friends. Next Friday, I’m boarding a plane to Sydney, where I will be hanging out, touristing for three days. After that, I’m boarding another plane to Brisbane, where Roy and his wife Dominique actually live, and we’ll be staying with them for the remainder of the trip.

I’m very, very excited. The last time I was out of the country was when I was 12, and it was to Puerto Vallarta. It was there that I remember getting corn row braids on my head and playing in warm beach water while it rained. That might have also been my first time on a plane that I remember. Now as an adult, I’m finally traveling to a different country, and I’m ready to inhale and absorb everything.

This may sound strange, but I think right now what I’m most looking forward to is the plane ride there. I relish the ‘me’ time. I might read, sleep, write, or blog, watch a movie, and drink myself into a stupor. It’s going to be such an experience. The longest I’ve ever been on a plane is 6 hours, and I can’t wait to humbly brag about surviving a 15 hour one.

Of course, I’m going to miss my boyfriend, and I’m going to miss my family and friends, but I feel like it’s going to be one of those experiences I remember for the rest of my life.

In other news, I have to tell you how awesome shit has been in the blogging world. I posted about my Passion Series in a blogging group on Linkedin and got an amazing response from at least 20 bloggers wanting to take part. I’m booked until the end of October already! Just wait until you read how inspiring they are, and what kind of things they blog about. They’re so freakin’ talented and awesome, it’s a freakin’ joy to bring them to my blog. And I’m meeting some great people because of it. Every morning I get a new request it seems, and my heart nearly bursts every time it happens.

This weekend is going to be very chill. I don’t have plans until the evening tomorrow, so I’m going to stay at home and rest, AKA work on another Mursa Pie, read, and probably write. I’m not sure where I would be if I wasn’t allowed some solid space to sit around and just create. Sunday is Father’s Day, which will be hard but also nice because it will be with people I love. My stepmom, sister, and I are going on a ‘booze cruise’, which is basically just a docked ship that serves brunch and booze. It’s going to be so awesome though, we always have a great time together, and I think it’ll be a great way to celebrate my dad.

I’ll probably blog tomorrow. Because now I can blog on the couch.

Marcie Kenny

This post is part of a weekly feature called the Passion Series…enjoy!

Marcie Kenny has created quite the artistic world for herself in her corner of the blogosphere. In fact the title of her blog is Marcie’s Nook, which implies that she’s created a place where she can display whatever creative inkling she has at any given moment. This, my friends, is what I truly love about blogging–the ability to create without permission.

What initially drew me to her blog was her gorgeous pictures of flowers and landscape, and how much fun she seemed to have experimenting with different art. There’s a strange and comforting peace in her art too, like there’s no need to impress anyone or to create anything that doesn’t fit with what she’s feeling. I love how she says “Now that my thoughts and pictures are out there I can’t stop!”

I think most bloggers feel the same way. It’s addicting, and gives you a hell of a direction. Here’s what she had to say.

Has blogging helped you in any emotional or creative way? 

Yes, blogging for me has been a three year journey introducing myself, my love for the arts, and my use of paint, photography and words. It was a way for me to show my work. Painting started out in an art class I took using water colors. I then started using the blog as a way of letting people into my world of the arts. The water colors got some rave reviews from my blogging friends that I picked up along the way, so from there I worked with acrylic paints in a kit called Paint Your Own Master piece.  

The photography started as a hobby, but then I started putting them on the blog. Blogging with photos brought more challenges, but with each picture I put on my blog, it showed how I had grown in talent, from using a hand held camera called a snappy camcorder to an upgrade to the Nikon Cool pix L310.

Has blogging daily/weekly helped you achieve any personal goals?

The goals for my blog have been achieved through my weekly blogging.  It has been kind of like my own personal museum of my creative mind. I have met many blogging friends along the way who encourage me to keep going.

Does the ritual of daily/weekly blogging give you motivation to pursue things you are passionate about?

My blogging has brought out my passion for the arts! Now that my thoughts and pictures are out there I can’t stop. I keep moving forward with each blog I share.  My latest paint project will be done on canvas.  Stop by anytime and check out my work as I am also planning on working on new projects. It’s my world and welcome to it!

To see what Marcie has been up to, check out her little nook and leave her a comment if you see something you like. She’s been so sweet to participate in this series, I can’t thank her enough for opening up her creative space to the Novel Quest community. Till next time  peeps!

——————————————————————————————-

This post is part of a series on bloggers who have found direction or passion through blogging. If you would like to be featured in the Passion Series, please contact me through this form with responses to the above questions, and share your passions. Thanks!

See all Passion Series posts >>

June 11, 2013

Worst Thing 2

Drawing by Leslie Hung

Every day, life teaches me how to live. Just when I think I’ve got it all down, when I think I have the inner strength to tackle whatever comes my way because I’ve coached myself to be strong, to love and be gentle with myself, to remember that we are all just visitors here….someone comes to smash all my toys, and I fall apart.

In my case it wasn’t really someone, just some thing that happened to me, that absolutely tore me to pieces. I don’t necessarily want to talk about it, but I do want to talk.

It’s about fear. You know how when something bad happens to you, the very worst thing, and every day after that worst thing happens you are on high alert for that worst thing to happen again? In fact you have so much irrational fear and paranoia that that worst thing is going to happen again, that you feel like just the mere thought of that worst thing will bring it about in some horrible way? It’s like that, if any of that makes sense. And right now I’m facing an incredible amount of irrational fear and paranoia. One of my worst things happened just like I feared it would at some point, and even though it wasn’t the very worst thing, it was pretty fucking close to it while it was happening, and I’ve been crying for two days straight, even though everything is okay now.

It’s like some kind of horrific post traumatic stress. I know this is probably incredibly confusing for you, and I’m really sorry that I am being so mum on the details, but I just had to get out the fact that life never fucking ceases to surprise me. I mean, it’s a beautiful thing, and every day I feel the miracle of being alive, and every day I realize how small I am, and that I am on this celestial vessel, whirly-twirling out in space, but shit man. It’s rough out there. And it’s almost like you can’t even remember the person you were before that ‘worst thing’ happened to you, and you don’t even want to remember that person because that person never had anything figured out, despite what they previously thought.

And although I feel like I’m afflicted with so much emotional strain, paranoia, fear, and heartache, there’s this really small area within me that’s fighting. Don’t be silly. I know areas can’t fight, but something inside of me is doing it. I’ll be damned if I know what the hell it is or who the hell is working so hard to jumpstart my normalcy again, but I’m damn happy it’s there. Because I sure as hell am not doing anything to better myself, except cry, read, and sleep. But who knows, maybe that is bettering myself. Maybe I’m bettering myself without even knowing it. Maybe that’s the biggest healing trick of all.

And I’ll tell you one other thing, one other thing that’s making it all alright. People who put too much money in parking meters. God bless people who put too much money in parking meters and take the fuck off, because it allows sad, paranoid, and fearful people like me to zip right in and park for free.

I apologize for the F words. Also, I’m alright, I promise. I thought someone I love was seriously hurt, but they are fine. So naturally I’m traumatized by it. And naturally, I’m writing about it. And maybe not so naturally, I’m crying all the time, but crying is coping I think.