remember that one time there was a zombie apocalypse?

17 days.

I have 17 days until I leave.

What. The. Hell.

I don't even have my visa form sent in yet. I know, I know; I fail at life.

Okay, so 2 months ago, when I thought of where I'd be right now, I thought I'd be sooo much more prepared than I am now. I would have purchased a sweet camera to take sweet pictures (not done), purchased a hiking backpack (also not done), sold my car so I don't starve when I get to Taipei (my car is broken down, so I did the opposite of that), filled out all stupid forms (look at above paragraph - clearly not done), learned a bunch of Chinese (nope), etc.

I have, however, doubled the amount of Chinese I have learned, which sounds like a great accomplishment. Unfortunately, pre-job acceptance, I knew one word. Now I know two. Therefore, only doubling my Chinese knowledge is actually quite pathetic.

This is going to be one interesting adventure... If I ever get there, that is.

I can't even think about going to Taiwan because I've been so obsessed with my job. I live, breathe, eat, crap, smell, [insert other awkward verbs] the TRiO Upward Bound program 24/7. Last week, a coworker and I calculated how many hours we worked. It was 72. We get paid salary, so we calculated how much we get paid an hour. It was something like $3.50. RIDICULOUS.

I'm not gonna lie, for the most part, I really enjoy the job. Even though I get paid so little, I get paid to do some awesome stuff. Last week, in the dance class I "tutor" in, AKA do nothing in, we got to dance outside in the rain and jump in puddles. And in the English class, where I also do nothing, I painted a mask that represented myself. I made mine super awkward with many bright feathers and furry objects. Anyway, I have fun, for the most part.

Of course, since it is me we are talking about, there have been many awkward moments. The first day I had to give a twenty minute lesson on how to insert a tampon. Yuuup.

ANYWHO, TRiO sucks up all my time and energy. The few precious amounts of free time I have I usually spend with my coworkers, who are now my roommates. We moved into a freakin' sweet apartment that overlooks downtown Holland. And it has AC, a kitchen, 2 bathrooms, and my palm tree named Douglas chillin' in the middle of the huge living room, where I'm planted right now. The girl TAs live in one apartment and the boys live across the hall. AND NO STUDENTS!! Yippee! It was fun living with them in the dorm, but now I don't have to patrol the halls to make sure they make the 10:30 curfew and they aren't PDAing (which has become a verb, by the way).

So now I have slightly more time to do things most normal people would do on their time off, like reenact zombie apocalypses in a big park with hundreds of other (extremely nerdy) people. Which, if a zombie apocalypse does happen, I need to make my lard butt start running more. And I should have a nerf gun (or probably a real gun) that holds more than 6 bullets. And I should definitely not stay around my coworkers, since they kept wanting to sacrifice me to the zombies. Bitches.

So besides the Fourth of July, when I taped myself rapping about my hatred of the grass, set off fireworks while yelling Harry Potter spells (EXPECTO-PATROOONUMM!), skinny dipped in a pool, and initiated Journey sing-alongs, (there may or may not have been alcohol involved) and the spontaneous zombie apocalypse here and there, my life hasn't been too terribly interesting.

I suppose I should get on that visa form, huh.

Uuuuuggggghhhh braiiiiiiinnnns muuuuuuuuuhhhh

fancy toilets, "do you come here often?", men in leather + kilts, and dancing epilepsies

Now, I wasn't really planning on posting a whole lot before I arrived in Taiwan. I didn't think I'd have much to blog about considering I'm stuck in Holland until I leave.

But, I have a few updates in the ridiculous and random life of Robin that were too awesome to not blog about.

First of all, two days ago (Friday) I moved into Hope College's campus to start my new job as a Tutor Advisor for the TRiO Upward Bound program. I'm graduated, yet I'm back in freshman dorms. Go figure. This week is orientation and the high schoolers move in the dorms with us in a week.

After orientation was done yesterday, I called up some high school friends, Jessica and Krystal, to go out. Though I'm (sort of) from Holland, I didn't really have a clue what to do on a Saturday night. We decided to go to the Holland Brewery and then go to the S Club.

We get to the Brewery and sit waaaay in the back, isolated from the rest of the restaurant/bar. I ordered the most disgusting beer ever (Sun Dog?), only to ask for a refund from our waitress. She wasn't too happy. We sipped our drinks that ranged from decent to downright awful while we did what most young people do at a bar - play MASH. Jessica's wedding is going to include her husband dancing the Single Ladies dance down the aisle in a unitard. The tagline of the wedding will be "He liked it, so he put a ring on it."

Anyway, besides our reminiscence of elementary school girl games, Holland Brewery was pretty boring, until Jessica came out giggling from the women's bathroom. Apparently the Holland Brewery owns a massage toilet. I went into the handicapped stall and found it in all its glory. I sat on heated seat of The Toilet, which shall be referred to as a proper noun from now on. If you look closely at the picture on the left, which is an accurate picture of The Toilet, I clicked that middle button, which has a picture of a butt and water spurting into it. Yes, The Toilet has a butt washing button. I got nervous and stood up during this washing, and The Toilet spewed water everywhere out of the stall, like a 5 year old boy peeing with no aim. I ran out of the stall as soon as I could, so I wouldn't be identified. This plan failed, as I bumped into an old high school friend who was there for her bachelorette party (why is everyone getting married so young??).

After The Toilet fiasco, we ran in the rain to Jess's car and sloshed our way to the S Club. It was dead. There were maybe 25 people at almost 11 o'clock. But we had paid to get in, so we were going to stay and sit awkwardly as we stared at the empty dance floor. We ordered some delicious margaritas, and mid-margarita, "Markee" slammed her purse down next to Jessica and said "watch this for me, babes." We looked at each other... who was this chick? No one knew her. Markee drunkenly stumbled onto the dance floor and started to dance. She came back and sat down at our table, grabbed Krystal's margarita and took a sip. "This is disgusting!" she giggled. We just sat there in awe as this random drunk girl stole Krystal's drink. She started to chat with us, we found out her name was Markee, and she told us her life story of how her sister and ex-boyfriend are here and flirting with each other and this is making her upset.

Jessica then wanted to find out if S Club is always this dead on Saturday nights.
"Do you come here often?" Jessica said, as she knocked over her drink, spilling her water all over the table and her pants.

Stop.

I'm dying with laughter at this point. It totally looked like Jessica was trying to pick up this drunk girl with a line "do you come here often", felt nervous, and spilled her drink as she was trying to impress her. This was most definitely not the case, but is hilarious nonetheless. So hilarious, that Krystal and I repeated this line to her about 15 times throughout the night, and I added it to my favorite quotes on facebook.

Miss drunky pants told us how much she loved us, and decided that we were much better friends than her sister and ex-boyfriend. So much, that she decided to go punch her ex in the back of the head. I laughed. Inappropriate, I know, but this night has just become so weird. She came back to the table, decided this was not enough, then ran back and slapped both of them in the face. This prompted the bouncers to kick her out. Sadly, because she was our only form of entertainment.

"Do you come here often?" Teeheehee. Ok, I promise, I won't bring it up anymore. It's probably not even that funny for people who weren't there.

The club started to fill up a bit more, so we requested a Lady Gaga song and start dancing in hopes that we would start a trend. Eventually, more people started joining us. Then, The Couple came. I think The Couple deserve to become a proper noun because they have equal amount of awkwardness/awesomeness as The Toilet did. The Couple was a couple, obviously -they were about mid-thirties and not the most attractive people I've ever encountered. The guy was wearing a tight leather t-shirt and a kilt. Yes, you read that right. The girl was wearing something not quite so crazy; fishnets and some see-through top. They brought their own ipods and started interpretive dancing to their own music on the dance floor.

If you don't like clubbing music, that's fine. If clubbing isn't your scene, that's fine too. And, God forbid, you want to wear leather tops and kilts and you are a man, by all means, go for it. But, why on earth would you go to a club if you were going to bring your own music and interpretive dance to it while everyone else is grinding to Akon?

I was certainly amused by The Couple. That is, until Mr. Ecstasy graced us with his presence. I thought The Couple's interpretive dancing was awkward, but Mr.Ecstasy's dance performance by far outshine their dancing. I call him Mr.Ecstasy because I would bet money that he was on some type of drugs, because I don't think it's humanly possible for people to act like that without some sort of substance affecting them. He also did some interpretive dancing, though to the club's music, not his own. He was also not an attractive fellow and was quite awkward looking. He was late-twenties to early-thirties, skinny, buck-toothed, and wore a cowboy hat. He jumped on the stage and started dancing. I write "dancing", but I don't know if his actions can be categorized as that. He moved like he had epilepsy. His favorite dance move was something I like to call, "the lawnmower". Imagine starting an old-school lawnmower by bending down pulling the string - that is the dance move he did at least 100 times. Everyone was laughing and pointing at him, but also cheering his awkwardness on. At one point, the dance floor cleared as he attempted to break dance / interpretive dance / epilepsy dance / lawn mower dance / miscellaneous.

You can view his awkwardness here.

And that, folks, was my night. It wasn't particularly a fun night, but the stories and weirdness made it amazing.

no man is an island

I'm feeling randomly inspired to start this. I'm restless and stuck in the in between; one chapter of my life has finished, and the next one is going to start in a few months. I'm excited for the new chapter, but while I wait, I'm so damned bored. If I'm about to start the next chapter, right now I guess I'm the blank page that's awkwardly placed in between the chapters, or the slightly relevant Dr. Suess quote that no one actually reads before the chapter starts. Yeah, I'm definitely the awkward quote right now. I'm probably a quote from Abraham Lincoln about emancipating slaves when the book is about grooming your new Pomeranian. Well, whatever I am, I'm anxiously awaiting to start the new chapter and peek into its contents.

I decided to start with the title, but I couldn't quite decide what to name my blog at first. I rarely follow blogs, but when I occasionally find myself reading one, the writers usually title their blogs with something catchy or a witty pun. The only thing I could think of was to use some phrase including the word "island" in it. For some reason, I've been drawn to islands while traveling. While other Spanish students chose Spain as their country of study, I chose the less traveled path of the Dominican Republic. On my Europe trip, I felt most at home on the island of Ireland. Now, for some reason, I'm being pulled to Taiwan. I'm not a beach bum by any means, but living most my life within walking distance of Lake Michigan beaches has given me a strong desire to have beach and water nearby. Plus, islands just have this connotation behind them of relaxing, enjoying life, and taking it easy. Call me lazy or unmotivated, but I have no desire to become the stereotypical workaholic that so many Americans strive to be. I want to enjoy the little time I have in this life and if that means working less and playing more, so be it. I prefer the island lifestyle to the work and money-driven lifestyle that is thrust upon us Americans. Islands just fit me.

Thus, I decided my blog name needed something island themed. And yes, I actually googled "island" to find a name. My search brought me to this quote from John Donne from Meditation XVII:

"All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated...As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness....No man is an island, entire of itself...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the ball tolls; it tolls for thee"

I think I like it, but in a typical college-student fashion, I read it quickly without letting anything sink in. With some help from my dear-old-friend Wikipedia, the sparknotes version of this quote is about human beings defendant on one another for survival. We can't manage life by ourselves. This idea is based on Buddhist philosophy. I'm not an expert on Buddhist philosophies; wikipedia told me that and I felt like I sounded smart including this fact.

For my title, I like it. It's got the literal "island" and the metaphor behind it. While traveling, even alone, this theme of needing others is commonly woven into my tales, as I'm sure it will in my Taiwan travels.

I promise not to include Buddhist philosophicalish quotes from a dead guy in my next blog entry. Pinkie swear. I will, however, include made-up words such as philosophicalish.

Right. So I have the blog title down. Only took me 87 paragraphs to explain it.
Next on the list - the back story. As I mentioned above briefly, I am going to Taiwan for a year. This is mainly what my blog is going to be about.
But let's go back farther and I'll explain myself a bit more.

My passion for traveling started when through my high school, I randomly signed up for a month-long foreign exchange program in Spain when I was 16. Though it became the catalyst for the explosion of the need to explore the world, the experience ironically kind of sucked. My host family was downright weird and I was still in my awkward, shy phase so I didn't enjoy the experience as much as I could have.

I continued studying Spanish after I graduated high school because I was sort of good at it, and because I wanted to study abroad once I started college. Really badly. I'll be truthful, there wasn't really another reason to study Spanish. College Spanish courses aren't fun or easy, especially once you get past learning new vocabulary words and playing games and move into analyzing Spanish literature. Ew. But, I love being able to speak another language.

I got the opportunity to put my Spanish major to use in 2008 (age 19), when I spent 4 months studying abroad in Santiago, Dominican Republic. I LOVED IT. It was unpredictable, unstable, and nothing like I had imagined; it was even better. Yes, the D.R. isn't probably on your list of top places to travel. There are some touristy rich parts that you might travel to, but Santiago? No. You'll be lucky if you find someone who speaks English well there. You can see poverty's effects almost everywhere you go - from the run down conchos (broken down cars that work as taxis that fit 7 people into tiny cars) to the barefoot 5 year olds that follow you until you buy one of their pirated DVDs they are peddling. But the beauty exists talking within the people, learning to dance the merengue and bachata at the local discotecas, savoring the food, finding hidden adventures that should be tourist attractions (like 21 charcos, where I jumped off a 25 foot waterfall), and of course, the beautiful dominicano men. You can't forget them.


After living there and experiencing the culture I definitely caught the travel bug and planned on discovering the world, one city at a time.

Once I returned from the D.R., west Michigan just seemed dull. Though my university is pretty big, it's surrounded by corn fields. Bor-ing. Even the nearest Taco Bell is 10 minutes away. I'm serious. It's a crime. A crime of depriving drunken college students (and sober college students) of the cheap awful deliciousness that is Taco Bell </not-having-a-tacobell-rant>.

After drudging through my junior year, I looked up more excuses to spend time traveling. I didn't have a set summer job so I thought, hey, why not be an Au Pair in Spain? I found a job online and flew out to Madrid with a friend I had met in the Dominican Republic. My roommate at the time was studying abroad in Málaga, and she met up with us also. We didn't have much of a plan or a budget, but we had a blast. We spent a month traveling together - couch surfing in Barcelona and Salamanca, staying with family in Paris and Groix Island, and couch surfing / staying in hostels in Florence and Rome. Amazing.


After I got back from Italy, I started the job from hell as a nanny in Tarragona (Spain). The two girls were sooo spoiled and the family thought their children could do no wrong. I was a slave to two brats straight out of the SuperNanny tv show. I ended up leaving early and found myself with another family who was much better, though equally weird. Like, I lived with this family + Julius, who I referred in my head to as Lover Julius. Lover Julius was a 50 year old Czech with a long, white, handle-bar mustache, awful BO, and a strong love for Daisy Duke cut-off shorts, which he frequently wore with his tucked-in wife beaters. Yeah. Not pleasant.

In between the switch, I met up with another friend who happened to be studying abroad in France. He and I met up in London, couch surfed there, flew to Dublin, where we also couch surfed, and flew back to where we were staying. Again, the experiences were simply amazing.


I returned to finish up my last year of college. Although education is a five-year program, I was going to graduate in four, which meant my last year was student teaching. I taught Spanish at two different high schools. At some points I really liked it, but most of the time it was just too stressful and not what I really wanted to do with my life. Teachers work their asses off and get so little back. That's a whole different rant...

Anyway, the teaching job market is terrible in Michigan right now. Even if I wanted to be a Spanish teacher (which I don't) it'd be difficult to find a job. But who says I need to settle down? I just turned 22 years old. Last time I checked, that's still pretty young. Just because I'm graduated doesn't mean I have to go straight to a boring cubicle job, or in my case, an under appreciated, overworked teaching job. Why can't I go travel the world and go party all night while I still can? It's something I love to do. I'm too free spirited to be held down now.

I then decided what any Spanish/Education major would do - go to Taiwan. Yeah, it's pretty random. No, I don't know Chinese. But, it's going to be an adventure for sure. I'm going to be teaching English to little Taiwanese kids through a company called Hess. Most people think I'm crazy for jumping on a plane to go across the world for a year. I'm honestly not very nervous at all though.

I have been starting to dream about going there, which is probably a sign that I'm subconsciously slightly nervous. I can't take my dreams too seriously though - they are random as hell. One time I had a dream I was a saltine cracker and I met the queen. Another time I had a soda can named Amanda who bought me a watch. Common dream themes: Voldemort, zombie apocalypses (apparently I'm quite nice when I'm a zombie), and being on the TV show LOST. Heck, my dreams are probably more interesting than my real life.

Though my life can get pretty interesting because it is SO random and I have awful luck sometimes. REALLY awful luck. A few days ago, for instance, I popped my tire and was stranded at work - the day after I got my tires checked. Did I mention this was the third tire I have popped in a month? Did I also mention I work about 40 minutes from home and have no clue how to change a tire?
And today? Went on a boat. I was wearing a dress and didn't have any pockets so I stuck my phone in my cleavage (bad idea, I know). My phone fell out into the water. Fail.

When my bad luck doesn't leave me stranded with a popped tire or phoneless because of my boobs, my bad luck is okay, and almost kind of awesome, because I love to tell interesting stories about myself and my friends. I seem to attract such weirdness. Really, I don't know if I've met anyone who has such randomness follow me wherever I go. Like, anyone who goes to Rome sees the Colloseum. Big fricken' deal. But how many of you Rome travelers have met hot Roman guys, convinced them to bring you to a local discoteca, get in to the club and start dancing, only to find out it's transvestite night and on stage, there is a group guys dancing in neon green speedos, feather boas, and high heels? Probably about 0 people. Well, it happened to me. Note to self: check discotecas ahead of time to ensure non-transvestiteness next time in Rome.

Now, the point of that story was not to talk about awkward transvestite Italians, but to show you how I travel and what I remember. I like the little weird things. I don't want this blog to be a wikipedia page that tells you what language Taiwanese speak, the weather, the tallest building, etc. I'm going to tell stories about funny and interesting things that happen to me that probably wouldn't happen to other people.

So there you go. My blog is this - my weird adventures in Taiwan with a little bit of life views thrown in between. Maybe you are reading this because you are interested in Taiwan, or traveling. Maybe you just want to keep tabs on me and make sure I don't die, or something. Whatever it is, I hope you enjoy.