Hello and greetings from the airport in Dubai. This was an unexpected event (posting on my blog while on the trip), so this will be pretty short. We have made it all the way to Dubai from LAX and it has only taken 3 flights to do so. I won't write anything more about the flights because I am journaling for future posts once I return to the states. I have also taken 4 pictures thus far, so I may have a few more by the time we return. Future posts may have pictures from the trip attached or a link to Flickr or something so everyone may view at their own pace. Also, I will try to include "random trip facts" with each post about the trip... just so you can get a feel for more of the trip than what will be discussed in bulkin the rest of the posts. I guess that will do it for now, so please keep me and the rest of the team in your prayers for the duration of our trip. Can't wait to share all of our stories with you when I get back.
Later peeps,
Tim K.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
T-Minus 1 Week
EXTRA! EXTRA! Tim Krapivkin received two more vaccination injections (I just think that "injections" sounds so much more B.A. than "shots")! This time around I got my meningitis (I know, I should have gotten that one a while ago) and my yellow fever vaccines. It may just be me, but needles seem to tear up muscle tissue like no other. My left shoulder had just gotten over the soreness of the last shots I had and then today I got another one right in my left shoulder. Oh mama(!), is it sore right now. On the bright side however, I did get a couple of sweet band-aids for my trouble (a Bugs Bunny one and I believe the other was a Daffy Duck). So the trip for more shots wasn't completely fruitless. Speaking of fruitless, I think the receptionist may have been "happy" and he wants me to post photos of my trip on Flickr so he can look at them (I didn't even wear a V-neck this time. I was, however, wearing shorts so it may have been in response to my "Greek God" calves. I guess Kara and Katie weren't joking around about that). Anywho, I'm basically all squared away on the shots I need (although, I do get one more hepatitis A & B combo on Friday. Bringing my shot total up to 7 in an 8 day span) and then I'm off to Ethiopia next Tuesday and will be gone til July 21st. Now before everyone goes into panic mode after reading the last part of the last sentence, I will do my best at keeping a journal over there so I will be able to fill all of you in on what happened over there when I return. However, journaling does seem to be my only natural nemesis on the earth (right behind the evil man that uses the leaf blower at school at 8 AM) so my entries may not be much, but it will be better than nothing and if I am able to journal everyday, there should be an adequate amount of reading material for you all.
It just wouldn't be a "Thats What She Said..." blog without some sort of randomness. So with that in mind, I would just like to say how pathetic the management of the San Francisco Giants really is. Sabean finally got a clue when he demoted Burriss to triple-A Fresno today, but he still has Fred Lewis with the major league team and a perennial waste of playing time in Rich Aurillia. Those two players have been given more than enough opportunity to prove they can play at the highest level, but they haven't shown they can. They are road blocks for the players that are in the minors that will actually help the Giants in the future. Instead of playing younger guys that are showing promise, the Giants keep giving out second chances (and third and fourth and fifth and sixth and... you get the point) to these two. But Sabean isn't the one entirely responsible for this mess (although, he is the one keeping those two in the majors for God knows what reason), Bochy is the one that keeps plugging them into the line-up. Bochy shows the baseball intelligence of a squirrell (and not the one that can water ski, he could probably manage better than Bochy). The Giants have not given Travis Ishikawa any real chance to play at First and only give Andres Torres a pinch-hit at-bat here and there. Torres smashed a homerun yesterday and rewarded tonight by being kept in the dugout the entire game (which was a lost cause in the 4th inning thanks to Bochy's ineptitude and Sabeans pathetic mismanagement of the organization). I will reiterate what I had said in an earlier post; the Giants better fire Bochy and Sabean by next year or my faith in humanity (or more specifically, my faith in the Giants franchise) will be utterly annihilated (again, I think "annihilated" sounds much more B.A. than "shattered" or "destroyed").
Goodnight cyberspace.
It just wouldn't be a "Thats What She Said..." blog without some sort of randomness. So with that in mind, I would just like to say how pathetic the management of the San Francisco Giants really is. Sabean finally got a clue when he demoted Burriss to triple-A Fresno today, but he still has Fred Lewis with the major league team and a perennial waste of playing time in Rich Aurillia. Those two players have been given more than enough opportunity to prove they can play at the highest level, but they haven't shown they can. They are road blocks for the players that are in the minors that will actually help the Giants in the future. Instead of playing younger guys that are showing promise, the Giants keep giving out second chances (and third and fourth and fifth and sixth and... you get the point) to these two. But Sabean isn't the one entirely responsible for this mess (although, he is the one keeping those two in the majors for God knows what reason), Bochy is the one that keeps plugging them into the line-up. Bochy shows the baseball intelligence of a squirrell (and not the one that can water ski, he could probably manage better than Bochy). The Giants have not given Travis Ishikawa any real chance to play at First and only give Andres Torres a pinch-hit at-bat here and there. Torres smashed a homerun yesterday and rewarded tonight by being kept in the dugout the entire game (which was a lost cause in the 4th inning thanks to Bochy's ineptitude and Sabeans pathetic mismanagement of the organization). I will reiterate what I had said in an earlier post; the Giants better fire Bochy and Sabean by next year or my faith in humanity (or more specifically, my faith in the Giants franchise) will be utterly annihilated (again, I think "annihilated" sounds much more B.A. than "shattered" or "destroyed").
Goodnight cyberspace.
Friday, June 12, 2009
A Very Long Day
My day started with a knocking on my door by my mother at 8:20 AM (better known as, "40 minutes before I set my alarm for"). The very unexpected wake-up call was provoked by my mom having a massive dizzy-spell and being unable to drive into town to take care of our vacationing friends' dogs. I sluggishly exited my bed and began to become more and more conscious to the world with each step I took. In about 10 minutes I was as awake as I would ever be given the circumstances, so I drove my mom to our friends house so she could let the dogs out (yes, apparently my mother is the answer to that age old question) and feed them. After our work (really her's, I just sat on their couch until she was done) there was over, we came back home and I then sat on our couch until my mom was ready to go down to a travel clinic in Palm Springs (so I could get my vaccinations for my trip to Ethiopia). I knew I'd be getting a few shots, but I didn't really figure I would get 4 shots at once (not all simultaneously, that would be crazy). I was fine for the drive back home and everything, but about a half an hour after getting back home, my arms got sore (like somebody had just given me a dead-arm in each arm). Even now, about 11 hours after I received my shots, my arms are a little bit tender.
The previous paragraph was mainly peripheral information (sorry you already read that, but it wasn't that bad of a read, was it?), what I really want to share with you all is my experience down at the travel clinic. Now, you are all probably thinking, "Whats so great about a travel clinic? It's just doctors and stuff, right?" To answer your first question, I will later, so just be patient (kind of ironic word choice, "patient," since its about my visit to a travel clinic). To answer your second question, you couldn't be any more wrong. This clinic was crazy (imagine a "Nacho Libre" accent for the word "crazy" because thats just how "crazy" it was). It was basically a WWII museum; there were old WWII magazine covers, old war bond ads, old knick-knacks (no paddy-whacks however) with WWII anti-Axis propaganda, and even old newspapers with different headlines from the war. There was a big, plasma-screen TV playing the movie "Patton" on it, this place was tricked-out indeed (there was even an old air-plane propeller from the war that said, and I kid you not, "Keep 'em Flyin' and Japs Keep on Dyin'," who came up with this stuff?).
After filling out those stupid forms and signing/initialing all of those papers that make them not liable for my death (who reads all of those things? Its possible that I may have signed over all my future children to them, but I don't read those things, so I guess we'll find out in the event that I ever do have a child), I was called into the back rooms where all of the treatment takes place. I had to do the usual: height, weight, blood-pressure, and heart-rate. I did what I always do when having my heart-rate and blood-pressure taken, and that is I try to relax my entire body and breathe slowly (the last thing I want to do is find out I'm on the fast-track to a heart-attack). Apparently my little trick is very effective, because my heart-rate was 60 and my blood-pressure was 100/74. The nurse performing these tests, a male nurse (in PALM SPRINGS!!!), asked me if I worked out, this kind of caught me off guard. I was thinking he was trying to hit on me. I didn't want to say more than I had to in order to answer that question, so I replied with a very unenthusiastic "yes." At about the same time that I was regretting my decision to wear a V-neck t-shirt, he said he was asking because my readings were "below-average" or something like that ( I wasn't really paying attention at that point because I was still feeling a little uncomfortable). Anyways, he gave me my shots and kept explaining over and over (and over and over and over) again what else I needed to do to get ready for my trip (he also used the phrase, "you know what I'm saying?" repeatedly... I didn't start counting right away, but I still counted 7 times... and that was just in his conversation with my mom about what he had already explained to me several times). In spite of all that happened once my turn came up, that place was alright in my book.
The previous paragraph was mainly peripheral information (sorry you already read that, but it wasn't that bad of a read, was it?), what I really want to share with you all is my experience down at the travel clinic. Now, you are all probably thinking, "Whats so great about a travel clinic? It's just doctors and stuff, right?" To answer your first question, I will later, so just be patient (kind of ironic word choice, "patient," since its about my visit to a travel clinic). To answer your second question, you couldn't be any more wrong. This clinic was crazy (imagine a "Nacho Libre" accent for the word "crazy" because thats just how "crazy" it was). It was basically a WWII museum; there were old WWII magazine covers, old war bond ads, old knick-knacks (no paddy-whacks however) with WWII anti-Axis propaganda, and even old newspapers with different headlines from the war. There was a big, plasma-screen TV playing the movie "Patton" on it, this place was tricked-out indeed (there was even an old air-plane propeller from the war that said, and I kid you not, "Keep 'em Flyin' and Japs Keep on Dyin'," who came up with this stuff?).
After filling out those stupid forms and signing/initialing all of those papers that make them not liable for my death (who reads all of those things? Its possible that I may have signed over all my future children to them, but I don't read those things, so I guess we'll find out in the event that I ever do have a child), I was called into the back rooms where all of the treatment takes place. I had to do the usual: height, weight, blood-pressure, and heart-rate. I did what I always do when having my heart-rate and blood-pressure taken, and that is I try to relax my entire body and breathe slowly (the last thing I want to do is find out I'm on the fast-track to a heart-attack). Apparently my little trick is very effective, because my heart-rate was 60 and my blood-pressure was 100/74. The nurse performing these tests, a male nurse (in PALM SPRINGS!!!), asked me if I worked out, this kind of caught me off guard. I was thinking he was trying to hit on me. I didn't want to say more than I had to in order to answer that question, so I replied with a very unenthusiastic "yes." At about the same time that I was regretting my decision to wear a V-neck t-shirt, he said he was asking because my readings were "below-average" or something like that ( I wasn't really paying attention at that point because I was still feeling a little uncomfortable). Anyways, he gave me my shots and kept explaining over and over (and over and over and over) again what else I needed to do to get ready for my trip (he also used the phrase, "you know what I'm saying?" repeatedly... I didn't start counting right away, but I still counted 7 times... and that was just in his conversation with my mom about what he had already explained to me several times). In spite of all that happened once my turn came up, that place was alright in my book.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Anxiety-Inducing Observations
I finally took the time to look over the many options presented to me by this fine blogging website, such as: the font, font size, adding pictures/videos, links, etc... I feel a teeny-tiny-bit overwhelmed by all of the possibilities (they really are limitless). I feel I could make this small-time, low-budget (a.k.a. no budget) blog something really special that people from all the corners of the globe (which if you take the time to think about that phrase, "all the corners of the globe," it makes absolutely no sense at all... globes are spherical, hence no corners) would fight to get to computers just so they could read (although, if fights really did start due to my blogging abilities, I would feel sad... and guilty). Alas, the nearly infinite amount of possibilites that can be a bit anxiety-inducing. I guess the blogging saying is true, not the one saying "blogging is a completely ridiculous waste of time," but rather the older one (from the year 273 BC... of course I am approximating) saying "blogging is not for the faint of heart." I am not retiring from blogging, oh the contrary, but I will probably never again think of the awesomeness that could be this blog if I were to utilize the many cool features at my fingertips. Maybe someday I will scrape-up enough courage to try-out one of the do-hickeys, but until that day comes I will continue to blog in a very plain way. Like they say, "modest is hottest (although, I am not entirely positive that they were referring to blogging when they said that)."
In other news, my dad and I watched Iron Man (or the Iron Man as my mom says... I guess you would have had to be there for that to really be funny to you at all) tonight. We watched all the way through the credits to watch that Avenger-teaser-clip-thinga-ma-bobber, after which my dad asked me how many people stayed in the theater to watch that 20 second scene after enduring around 10 minutes of rolling credits. The question struck me as odd, because I seem to stay through most end credits nowadays just in the off-chance that that particular movie has an end scene. However, I then realized I just don't really have a life, so what is an extra 10 minutes sitting in a nearly empty theater just in case there is an end scene to me? My nerdiness/dorkiness/geekiness has reached a new low. In fact, my previous low was when I was probably around 5 or 6 and was at Superstar Video and I began to cry because of all the "scary" pictures on the movies covers. I'm sure there are some other lows in between that one and my current revelation, but i have either blocked them out of my memory (due to the trama caused by the experiences) or they just weren't "all-time-new-lows." In any case, I now feel obligated to walk out of my next movie screening during the end credits in an attempt to regain any manliness/coolness that I may have lost while watching the credits roll down the screen. Hopefully this realization will help me further down this road called "life."
In other news, my dad and I watched Iron Man (or the Iron Man as my mom says... I guess you would have had to be there for that to really be funny to you at all) tonight. We watched all the way through the credits to watch that Avenger-teaser-clip-thinga-ma-bobber, after which my dad asked me how many people stayed in the theater to watch that 20 second scene after enduring around 10 minutes of rolling credits. The question struck me as odd, because I seem to stay through most end credits nowadays just in the off-chance that that particular movie has an end scene. However, I then realized I just don't really have a life, so what is an extra 10 minutes sitting in a nearly empty theater just in case there is an end scene to me? My nerdiness/dorkiness/geekiness has reached a new low. In fact, my previous low was when I was probably around 5 or 6 and was at Superstar Video and I began to cry because of all the "scary" pictures on the movies covers. I'm sure there are some other lows in between that one and my current revelation, but i have either blocked them out of my memory (due to the trama caused by the experiences) or they just weren't "all-time-new-lows." In any case, I now feel obligated to walk out of my next movie screening during the end credits in an attempt to regain any manliness/coolness that I may have lost while watching the credits roll down the screen. Hopefully this realization will help me further down this road called "life."
Friday, June 5, 2009
My Current Predicament
I find myself, once again, not tired and wanting (only cause nothing is on TV now; TV purgatory) to sleep. I'd watch a movie or play a video game to pass time, but I'm not really wanting to invest any time into either of those activities. So I've resorted to the next best thing: blogging. I really have nothing of importance to write about, nor do I have any stories to amuse you (but mainly myself). But that is all fine and dandy, because I really haven't had much to write about before, but I did anyways. The randomness follows.
I've found myself thinking a lot about relationships lately. Not so much about how I am lacking in that particular department, but more about how someone goes about finding their "soulmate." These thoughts have been directly put into my mind after running into several friends of mine that are married or are about to tie the knot. On a side-note, I have realized that being home reminds me that I'm single more than being at school, because all of my friends at home are married or about to be married or are at least seeing somebody regularly... I feel like I'm that one friend that nobody really wants around, but odds are if you do something without them you will run into them and that would just be too awkward and uncomfortable for everyone involved, so you allow them to tag along and talk with them just enough to where they'd never suspect they were a "sympathy invite." Anyways, getting back on track, my thoughts are how did they all find their "special-someone"? (should the question mark be inside the quotation mark?) I try to remember how they all met to see if they did something particular to attract their favorite member of the opposite gender, but alas I have not come up with any fool-proof method for finding a mate of the soul variety (soulmate, if you didn't get it). With no new approach to use (assuming I had a previous approach), I will just try my best to let things happen naturally. On a somewhat-related note, is telling the person you are interested in (a.k.a. - your "crush," but I'd rather not use that term due to it being a feminine-type of term) that you are, well, interested in them allowing things to move naturally? Rhetorical/hypothetical question (kind of,... not so much). I'm sure by now everyone is tired of reading my emo'ish relationship rant.
Next Tuesday I will be receiving shots for my missions trip to Ethiopia (or "Ethio... E-E-Ethiopia," as my trip-mates would call it). This is all good and everything, but I'm potentially facing somewhere in the neighborhood of 4 shots in total. I can handle giving blood, but I haven't gotten a shot in a while. The very thought of getting one brings me back to the days when I would scream and cry afterwards (it was a long time ago... at least several years). I will consider the trip for shots a success if I am not reduced to a blubbering mound of man... and I maintain consciousness throughout the entire ordeal.
I've found myself thinking a lot about relationships lately. Not so much about how I am lacking in that particular department, but more about how someone goes about finding their "soulmate." These thoughts have been directly put into my mind after running into several friends of mine that are married or are about to tie the knot. On a side-note, I have realized that being home reminds me that I'm single more than being at school, because all of my friends at home are married or about to be married or are at least seeing somebody regularly... I feel like I'm that one friend that nobody really wants around, but odds are if you do something without them you will run into them and that would just be too awkward and uncomfortable for everyone involved, so you allow them to tag along and talk with them just enough to where they'd never suspect they were a "sympathy invite." Anyways, getting back on track, my thoughts are how did they all find their "special-someone"? (should the question mark be inside the quotation mark?) I try to remember how they all met to see if they did something particular to attract their favorite member of the opposite gender, but alas I have not come up with any fool-proof method for finding a mate of the soul variety (soulmate, if you didn't get it). With no new approach to use (assuming I had a previous approach), I will just try my best to let things happen naturally. On a somewhat-related note, is telling the person you are interested in (a.k.a. - your "crush," but I'd rather not use that term due to it being a feminine-type of term) that you are, well, interested in them allowing things to move naturally? Rhetorical/hypothetical question (kind of,... not so much). I'm sure by now everyone is tired of reading my emo'ish relationship rant.
Next Tuesday I will be receiving shots for my missions trip to Ethiopia (or "Ethio... E-E-Ethiopia," as my trip-mates would call it). This is all good and everything, but I'm potentially facing somewhere in the neighborhood of 4 shots in total. I can handle giving blood, but I haven't gotten a shot in a while. The very thought of getting one brings me back to the days when I would scream and cry afterwards (it was a long time ago... at least several years). I will consider the trip for shots a success if I am not reduced to a blubbering mound of man... and I maintain consciousness throughout the entire ordeal.
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