It was definitely a good year for me! I spent time with good friends, went to San Francisco to watch my University of Nevada Wolf Pack tear it up at the Kraft Bowl,  camped out in the wilderness, enjoyed the festive arts during Reno Artown, hikes into the mountains, and SO much more!

I visited old friends from High School in Camel, CA

Relived my younger elementary school years on the skating rink

Went fishing for the first time

Carved the powdered hill sides in Mammoth, CA

Tasted the salty air of the California Coast

Acted like a goofball in San Francisco

And fell in love ♥!

Those were the FUN times, but there was also much tragedy in the year 2011 for my community:

• Amtrak train crash in Fallon, NV June 24th
• IHOP shooting in Carson City, NV September 6th
• Air Race crash in Reno, NV September 17th
• Reno Street Vibrations shooting September 24th
• Devastating Pinehaven fire in Reno November 18th

What a crazy year it has been for Reno and for my friends who have lost their loved ones. My heart goes out to all of those that have been affected in one of the above mentioned events.

When I stepped off the plane at the beginning of January, I was immediately smothered by the humidity and the heat. In my hometown of Reno, NV it is hot in the summer but it has always been a dry heat; it can be 90 degrees Fahrenheit outside and FEEL like 90 degrees, but in Thailand it was 90 degrees (or 32 degrees Celsius) and it felt like 110 degrees F (43 degrees Celsius). I had no idea that my boobs or belly could sweat but I quickly found out there wasn’t a single part of my body that COULDN’T! Too much information? Okay, well I will move on then…

My Brother and I found my Dad and my Step-Mom outside of the Suvarnabhumi Airport after midnight and hopped in a taxi to our hotel, or should I say “flop-house.” Yes, as you may know, Thailand (Bangkok especially) is known for its red light districts of prostitution and “lady boys.” Let me break it down further: flophouses are hotels or places where rooms are rented by the hour or by the night for promiscuous activities, if you get my drift. You’ll know you are in one of these areas if you pass by your local 7-11 store (yes, they are all over), glance in the window, and on the counter you see an extremely large inventory of KY jelly and other various lubes.

Since we were in Thailand for a month on a budget, this is how we wound up staying at the Privacy hotel (aka the “lovehouse”) for 500 baht/night. It was honestly the cleanest place we stayed on the whole trip, even the place on Koh Lanta Island for 1700 baht/night couldn’t compare. The women cleaned ALL DAY and I can only imagine why...

One night we went out to dinner later than normal and when we returned to the Privacy Hotel a taxi had just pulled up. I turned to my Dad and whispered, “hey, a woman and a man are in that car, let’s see what happens.” Sure enough, the woman stepped out of the car wearing a short skirt, heels, and a blue tank top. She walked into the lobby of the hotel, paid for the room, and then walked back out with the man following shortly behind her. They entered into one of the rooms on the bottom floor of our three story building (pictured above). I knew exactly what was going to happen, but I was eager to wait outside on the bench out front to see how long it took. After a few minutes I decided this was a bad idea, and I walked up to my room. About 15 minutes later, I stepped out to see if any more action was taking place and what-do-ya-know: the couple was just emerging from their room. I saw the woman hand the man some change before hopping on the back of a scooter taxi in search for her next client.

Bangkok is always moving! There are millions of cars and scooters on the streets all day and all night. It’s a bit like watching the beginning of a Nascar or Motocross race when a light turns green downtown. The scooters all line up on one side, in-between the cars or in front of them. Even before the light turns green the scooters are all inching forward, anticipating when they get to hit the throttle. GREEN!!!! All the scooters go first, pulling back on their gas handle as if they would burn in flames if they were left behind. Each one is battling for its place in the lanes ahead. Next to go are the cars, moving fast but more cautious than the scooters. They honk their horns and signal to others that they are coming through, like it or not. It’s a delicate dance through the streets with Thailand’s lenient laws.  Even through the madness, the Thai people somehow make it work; that’s the beauty in it. I think I could watch the traffic all day long and never fully understand the rhythm that moves it.

On the North West side of Bangkok is a famous tourist site known as Khaosan road.  Backpackers and tourists from all over the world gather here to stay in local hotels and guest houses.  I love to people watch, and Khaosan is the perfect place for it. While sitting at a local bar, I must have heard 30 different languages or accents being spoken around me: German, English, Australian, French, Russian, Norwegian, Swedish, and everything in-between! Everyone travels the World differently and I love to see how others think.  I was enthralled by their speech, the way they were dressed, what they were carrying on their back, what they were buying, and how they interacted with their friends and loved ones.

Bangkok is amazing because it is filled with so much culture. I love the fact that it is a hub for people traveling through; someone always has a suggestion or an opinion on where to go or what to do. We didn’t have an itinerary for our month long trip and I liked it just fine. What I suggest for future travelers is to listen to your heart, grab a map and pick a spot, then GO! Thailand is beautiful and I look forward to going again.

In all of my years of living in the North Valleys I never actually attended the races. I guess I saw no purpose in going since I watched the show for free every year.

As a young girl I can recall how excited I was to watch the planes write ”Pepsi” in the sky as I stood waiting for the school bus, or the times my ears perked up as I heard the planes come thundering over the Peavine Mountain ridge.  

On September 16th, 2011, as I was preparing for a bicycle ride, my boyfriend called and said his boss had just given him 4 free tickets in the box seat area with pit passes. He asked if I was interested in going and I agreed! I was actually very excited!

We arrived at the Stead International Airport around 3 pm, grabbed a few beers, walked around and looked at a few planes, and then headed to our seats (which were pretty close to all the flying action). We watched a few races and some stunt flying. Then the second race we watched started.  I eagerly picked a plane which I named “mine” as it flew through the laps. On the third lap I turned to my left to watch the planes as they were headed through the start/finish line.

I cannot describe in words what I really saw.
A plane had flown over the “deadline” (course line near spectators) and over the crowd in the grandstands. I watched as it flew straight up in the air (to try and recover some say) and then fall backward, coming straight towards the ground!! My brain didn’t want to believe that he was going to crash. I kept thinking and hoping he would do some “stunt” and go straight at the end, avoiding the crash. Unfortunately, this was not the case. I watched in horror as the plane crashed its nose straight into the tarmac and explode into a thousand different pieces. It was like being in a movie, except no amount of 3D could render the image I saw.

As soon as the plane hit the tarmac and started to explode, I wanted to keep watching, but something inside of me said “SHIT!!! We are NOT far away from the impact, there will be pieces of metal shrapnel flying through the air. DUCK!!” So I took cover in my boyfriend’s lap, while he was frozen watching the whole thing.

In a matter of seconds the plane was in pieces lying on the ground. I stood up, shaking, crying and totally confused. I looked around and all that I saw was disaster; people lying on the ground bleeding, crying, shaking, all of us in awe. I just kept looking over at the initial site crash and asking ‘if we really had just seen that?!’ Five feet in front of us a woman was getting CPR!! I was trying to stay calm, but seeing that made me really freak out. People were dead or dying and I was lucky enough to NOT have been hit by a SINGLE PIECE OF SHRAPNEL.

After a few moments of shock, my boyfriend and I decided there was nothing we could do. Since we were unharmed physically we gathered out things and walked to the car. I was in shock and I cannot remember much of what I saw on the way out. I only remember seeing spectators crying, laying on the ground, or covered in blood from injuries or from helping others. On the way home we must have passed about 30 ambulances and 15 police and fire trucks.

It was the worst crash in the history of the Reno Air Races.  I am SO THANKFUL that I walked out of there alive. It was honestly the most terrifying thing that I have ever witnessed.

My heart goes out to all of those who have lost someone or know someone who is in critical condition…it could have easily been me in that place! ♥ 

And although I consider myself lucky from a near miss with death, I will continue to live each day without fear in my heart. Life is not worth living if you cannot enjoy things in it! I think back to the sounds of the planes thundering by, the words written in the skies, and the adventurous souls who fly those planes…and it makes me thankful for each passing moment and experience.  Thank you.

Photo taken from the news (MSNBC/Associated Press)

*Some people (former pilots and spectators) were saying that the pilot (James Leeward) saved hundred of lives by making the airplane go backward and out on the tarmac as far as he could. If he hadn’t done this, he would have gone into the grandstands.

So I never made it out to Pyramid (as I stated in my last post); however, I did manage to go a little further out on the Black Rock Desert with my brother.

Although I was frustrated when my brother’s car broke down, I was immediately calm when the sun began to set over the horizon in the middle of one of the largest dry lake beds in Nevada. The backdrop of beautiful mountain ranges and overcast skies illuminated by blue, pink, purple, orange,  and red hues was mesmerizing!

We settled into our camp, which was right next to Frog Ponds.  Frog Ponds is located on the Eastern side of the Playa and used to be a frog farm. There are 4 ponds, each one a different temperature. There is one pond in which no frogs live because it is a natural hot springs.  Unfortunately, we did not make use of this pond during our stay.

There was a light storm that evening and in the morning we awoke to a beautiful sunrise and perfect temperatures (at least as far as being in the middle of the desert goes).  We skipped the traditional camp fire breakfast, opted for some protein bars instead, and headed out on a little drive. 

While hiking around on the West side of the Playa, we found this little guy (pictured above) stretched out in the morning sun.  My brother had walked ahead of me and I was staring off into the landscape, when I happened to look down and see him. I JUMPED back, thinking it was a Rattle Snake! I called for my brother, who came running back to see why I was calling his name. Upon a closer look, he turned out to be some kind of Bull Snake/Great Basin Gopher Snake.

The great thing about being around the Black Rock Desert is that you can bet you will find some interesting things. Take for instance this couch that I found sitting in the middle of nowhere. The Black Rock Desert is home of Burning Man, which people come to visit from all over the globe. Becaus of the heavy influenece on art and culture, many strange objects wind up finding a home on the Playa and surrounding areas.

In all, it was a short trip, but a fun one and I got some quality time with my Brother. Next adventure coming soon!

Half-way through the year and I am looking back and trying to figure out just how I have lived. I have been working so much, that I am forgetting to have fun. I haven’t been to the lake, gone camping, gone on a good road trip recently, or done anything really. It’s kind of depressing.

I blame it on the wild and unpredictable Nevada weather, the fact that my days off are in the middle of the week, and that I have been “moving.” In all honestly though, none of those reasons should be stopping me from enjoying all the beauty that is around me.

I think I am going to go out to Pyramid Lake this week to bask in the sunlight and do some hiking.  Because after all, we’re only on Earth for a short time and I shouldn’t forget to live before I die.

 Photo: Pyramid Lake taken by my brother, J.B. Lundemo

The first time I remember being a disappointment was with my Mom. I was 16 years old and I honestly cannot remember WHAT I did, but I remember her words and how they stung like a bee. I felt horrible. She wasn’t mad, she was truly shocked with my actions when she had held such high expectations. I remember that whatever I did was truly outside of my regular behavior, so it was reasonable that she was upset. I vowed to never disappoint her again…that was until we had a major falling out years later.

The next time she was disappointed, I was 23 years old and the issue was money. I thought it was a little hypocritical that my mother would be mad at me over money issues because she had been raised by a less-than-well-off family (so to put it) and had preached the fact that if money can fix problems, then they really aren’t problems in the first place.

This money issue was over MY tax refund and MY savings account. Of course, I set up the savings account before I was 18, so my mother’s name was on the account. My tax refund was extra large that year due to school and owning a home, and my Mother could clearly see it when she logged in online. Well, as months passed I began to dip into the account and spend it on stupid things.

The less money she saw in my savings, the more angry she grew. She may have had me in her best interest, but the way that she went about it was wrong. Instead of settling it like two adults and talking over some financing, she yelled at me and then wouldn’t answer my phone calls.

Months went by with no communication from my Mother. If she had something to say to me, she would tell my brother who would relate the message back to me. Christmas passed, no word. My birthday came and went and there was not so much as a card in the mail. I cried that day when I laid my head on my pillow; she knew the day I was born, she wouldn’t forget to call.

Finally about a year later, around Easter, she sent me a card with some money in it. I didn’t want to take it. I called my Mother…no answer…so I left her a message. A few days later she emailed me and asked if I would meet her for lunch.

We met at Olive Garden. It was the most awkward meal I have ever had. She was my Mother and there was so much love between us, but it felt forced during our meeting.  She didn’t bring the issue up at lunch; she just talked about the present moment and what she had missed out on in my life over the past year.

I left the Olive Garden that day feeling a little disturbed. Mother and I had neglected to bring up the issue that made us so miserable for over a year. She most likely did not bring it up because she knew she was wrong and wanted to move past the issue; I didn’t bring it up because I thought she should be the one to confront me and appologize.

The issue has been forgotten, but to this day, it remains undiscussed. It doesn’t matter to me anymore that we never resolved the issue or talked it out.  What matters to me now is that my Mother is in my life again. And this time, I PROMISE not to disappoint her EVER again!

I have been “homeless” since the beginning of May, when I moved out of my friend’s house. My boyfriend was kind enough to give me a place to stay while I am waiting for a room to open up in my friend Paul’s place.

 The feeling of being “homeless” is pretty interesting considering that I went from owning my own home, to living with my aunt, then living with friend and her two children. My last living situation with my friend, her two-year-old, and a new born baby was fine until she decided to get a puppy; then it turned stressful. I just didn’t want to be home anymore, and I found any excuse not to. When she noticed that I wasn’t around anymore, she told me her sister was moving in and that I needed to find another place.

 I wasn’t upset, I was RELIEVED! If you have ever lived with children, then you may know how I felt. It’s not that I don’t like kids; I want a few of my own, but I’m not ready and there’s just something about having them around all the time that’s hard to deal with.

 I’m super excited to have my own room, bathroom, and privacy again. I’m already planning what color bath mats I want for my new bathroom, and dreaming about all of the closet space. I cannot wait to empty my car of boxes and duffel bags full of clothes, and maybe even have a real back seat again!

“Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn’t people feel as free to delight in whatever remains to them? ” -Rose Kennedy

I started my first blog site for school with the intention of turning it into something that others could use to better themselves. Well, I have a lot of fun writing those blogs…but they certainly don’t come easy to me. I have to do a lot of thinking, and stirring, and mulling over just to even get a few paragraphs.

Sometimes I feel like I am a teenage pop singer who just began with a record label; ya know, always having someone breathe down my back, write my songs for me, and tell me what I should sound like. I wanted to be free and very personal in my second blog (or album, keeping with the metaphor)…kind of like a real artist…except with no rules on grammar or stress about how people are going to react. Just my feelings and a blank screen to work with.

Hopefully it will make me a better writer in the end for my other blog.

I named the site lePetiteOsieau because it means “small bird” in French. Just a small, little bird in a big world, trying to fly and do what I love.

I hope you enjoy some of my writings and thoughts…and even though I’m not worrying about grammar, maybe  every now and then you can drop a comment or suggestion.

Thanks for reading!

♥Peace & Love♥