When I was a girl, my dad always tried to teach me about cars.  He pointed to what this thing was and he explained how it worked.   And I remember none of what he tried to teach me.  I remember looking at his tan, scarred hands, that grime under the nails that would never come out.  I can close my eyes and smell the mix of diesel fuel and cigarette smoke. That was the smell of my dad after a long honest day's work in the shop.  The literal blue collar with his name stitched across his chest.

My desire to see Bali had been a long-held dream, after studying Indonesian at school and most of my Australian friends making the pilgrimage at least once in their lifetime. So when the stars aligned and I found an opportunity to take a solo trip, I couldn't have jumped faster.

I never thought I would be performing in New York's St. Patrick's Day Parade, especially when I was still in high school. One year ago today was my senior year band trip to New York. Not only did I march in the St.Patrick's Day parade, but I also performed at Carnegie Hall. It was an unforgettable experience that changed my life.

Mentryville Park is a tiny oil ghost town rich in history tucked away in a tiny corner of Pico Canyon.  It's an important piece of US History for its role in the Oil Boon, but still draws people today for its beautiful hiking trails set in the Santa Monica Mountains. It's recognizable from several tv and movie productions but also draws a crowd for its reputation for being haunted.

Within an hour of JD meeting Z: "So you take a Flamingo, one of...

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