Santana

There was only a brief period of my life where I didn't enjoy baseball, and looking back I can't clearly see it in my head. By the time I was in junior high I was well back into it, and I went to every game I could. 2002 was the first time the Twins had won the division since the 1991 World Series win (and the first since it had become the A.L. Central) but even before that when they were doing very horribly I still enjoyed the games.

On Sundays before the game they always have an autograph signing for kids 14 and under, usually with lesser known or newer players. 2001 was the last summer I was able to go, turning 15 in the fall. So before the game one Sunday, my sister and I were hanging out before the game, totally mastering the trivia, and finally lining up to get autographs from two Twins pitchers – Juan Rincon and Johan Santana.

Of course, at the time Santana was a new player, and I had no idea he'd go on to win the Cy Young award twice and be considered one of the best in the league. I was just happy to get the autograph of anyone even remotely famous. I used to do it all the time with local TV anchors at the state fair. I'm pretty sure I still have it in my little notebook of autographs, along with a few other Twins players I'd gotten on other occasions.

Good times.

You say you buy from me!

In the fourth grade, my parents decided it would be a good idea to take my sister and I out of school for two weeks and go to Guatemala on a mission trip with our church. The associate priest at the time had an uncle who headed up a mission in San Lucas Toliman, so a group of people went down to help out the local parish as well as help build a clinic. Somehow my friend C and her family ended up coming as well, which surprises me to this day - we were a Catholic church and they were Jewish. I suppose charity is a universal theme, though.

I remember getting all sorts of homework to work on while I was away, and thinking it so dreadful that I would miss two whole weeks of Star Trek:Voyager. No big deal though, it was still my first real trip to a foreign country (weekends in Canada so don't count) and definitely my first somewhere where I didn't speak the language. When we weren't helping out at the church or the clinic, we took a few excursions to neighbouring towns.

Every time we would get off the boat, or car, or however we got there, a huge rush of girls with baskets would rush towards us, trying to sell their handmade bracelets and other goods. It seemed that they would follow us throughout the town, finally letting us be when we told them "maybe later." I guess that sounded like a promise to them.

At the end of the excursions when we were again leaving the town, these same girls would come up to us, screaming in broken English: "my name is Maria, you say you buy from me!" and shoving these baskets in our faces until finally a few people got out their wallets and made these girls' weeks.

But seriously, is everyone in Guatemala named Maria?

Epic Piñata

My sixth birthday was the last I had while my family still lived in the trailer park I had spent my early years in. The first year of my life I actually lived above a funeral home where my mom was employed as a caretaker, but since I have no memory of that place I consider this my first home. With my November birthday I was one of the oldest in my kindergarten class, and generally bored out of my mind... But that's straying from the story.

One of my dad's good friends worked as a manager at a gas station, and when my birthday came around he gave my dad a rainbow-shaped piñata they had had as a display in the store to use for my party. He filled it with candy and hung it above the gap between our living room and kitchen.
After other little games like pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey it was finally time to attack the monster with baseball bats.

As was our tradition, we lined the kids up smallest to biggest, so more would have a chance to hit the piñata. This... was an understatement. Everyone had their chance and then some, we'd have two at once beating the thing to no avail. We gave the bat to my dad and he only managed to knock it off the hook, without so much as a dent. After much frustration my dad finally takes a hammer to it, managing to punch a hole in it. Turns out instead of paper-maché, it was solid cardboard, especially thick and clearly not designed to be used as an actual piñata. My dad had to break it in half to finally let all of the candy out, and by then everyone was too exhausted to run for it.

Let that be a lesson to you- display means for display, not for letting six-year-olds smack with a giant stick.

My life is so weird, it would make a great film.

This year is my golden birthday. I know twenty-three is hardly old age, but as I approach this last milestone before thirty (in my eye, anyway) I've started to look back on what exactly I've been doing with my limited time. If I live to three times my age I'll have outlived my maternal grandfather and be but a few years short of my paternal. So then have I possibly lived a third of my life already? Whilst I hope it's at least that long, life is so unpredictable I could be over halfway through and never know it. With that in mind, I've decided to start a new project.

I was reading part of my textbook for Japanese literature, and certain type of early prose struck me. So-called "travel accounts" were stories based mostly on the experiences of the authors with some flair added in, written after a long cross country journey. This got me thinking... I may not have been around long, but I sure have racked up some experiences. Besides my three times living abroad, I have done many amazing things, and have been fortunate enough to do a lot of things many people never get the chance to. This has led to many strange encounters, coincidences, and all around weird stories, and I feel it's about time I started sharing some of them.

So I'll be trying to post about 1-2 times a week, more if it goes well. For all I know, I might not even make it to the next one... So much is up to chance in life! But I hope recording these stories will, if nothing else, get some stress out of me for bottling up so much in the past... And hopefully someone else may get some enjoyment out of them as well!