Case of the Mondays...

...or at least a case of Asahi beer.

Memories

It's nuts to think that my nephew's memory of Ipan beach will be the same as mine in the long years, if I ever do decide to go back to Guam.

K.C. De Leon Guerrero - Memories

Weekends at Jay and Jamie's

It's always awesome hanging at Jay and Jamie's place. Or should I say pimpmommaJaeMASTAH and Jay's place.

think green

I think my new Samsung Reclaim has a hold on me.

Mah Bad

Islanders going out on a Thursday night:

The Guam to Vegas transition

Some of the things I'm still trying to get used to:

1. Memorizing directions by STREETS rather than landmarks. Ever since I moved out here, I've been developing a reputation of giving/having the worst directions. I can't help it. I'm sure Guam has street signs, somewhere, but with my terrible eyesight it was just easier to guide myself on something that CAN be seen. Giving some landmark and the name of the village was really all you needed to find your way. Like the location of McKrauts would be, "Heading south after Blueberry Mart, but before the gas station in Molojloj". Now, I can't even use a Wal-mart or the bar outside my house for reference because there's one every couple of miles. It really doesn't help either that all the housing areas and shopping clusters look pretty much the same like some GHURA project.
2. The heat. And I thought Guam was hot, KC. Everyday it feels like I'm standing next to the dryers at the Balajadia's laundromat during the day AND the night.
3. Slot machines in the grocery store, gas station and everywhere else. Well it is Vegas.
4. The ability to order pizza ONLINE and get it in less than 30 minutes! I don't care what anyone says, but that's amazing. Maybe if Guam hooked up Pizza Hut to Myspace they would be able to offer this service, since people are on it all day updating their profiles. The only downside would be peeling them off the computers to deliver the pizza.
5. Using a garbage disposal and dishwasher. None of the houses I lived in on Guam had those things. We just didn't need it. Why throw scraps down the drain, when you could feed it to the boonie dog/cat/pig/goat/chicken/hilitai outside the house. And as for the dishwasher, it was basically a sign of gago-ness (lazy-ness) and came with the ever prominent superstition of "wasting power" (the power bill, water bill, well any kind of bill was always an issue to a Chamorro except the late video return bill). Well so far, I use the disposal whenever the drain is clogged, but the dishwasher remains a big dish rack that gets a cycle once a month.