Traditions

Today I hosted my local co-workers for a little holiday brunch and chat. I thought it might nicer than going to a restaurant. Plus, I wanted to share my cozy, fun, Christmas-kind of threw-up decorations (especially since I barely had anything out last year).

Not too big of a deal, since there are only 5 of us total. We could easily fit inside my shoebox of a house and enjoy eachother's company.

When deciding what to make, my brain immediately went to our family favorites. I made the things my mom has made for years for our Christmas Eve celebration (before going to Midnight Mass). I start to feel full just thinking about it....yum!

I knew it took some time and some planning, but really didn't think much of it. My whole life, I was always a helper, not the cook. I have a whole new respect for my mom, my grandmas and aunts for all their time spent stirring, spooning, rolling, and crafting. I always appreciated their efforts, but now I do even more. But traditions call for all that. Tradition (in my world) doesn't come from a box. It comes from taking the time to make things from scratch, from planning ahead, and from the joy of being surrounded by those you love.

We had a lovely brunch. And it all tasted good, if I do say so myself.

But dang was I ready to put my feet up!

Big hugs and thanks to my mom, my grandmas, and my aunts for your years of delicious indulgence. My waistline shows the love. ;)

Jolly Mr. Mailman

It is no secret to anyone I know that I love real mail.

Don't get me wrong any correspondance is nice, but there's nothing better than getting something other than junk or a bill in your mailbox.

I come from a family of letter writers, so my mailbox may be filled more regularly than most others. (Have I mentioned I am lucky?)

I try my best to continue that tradition by sending fun mail to friends, family and collegues at various times of the year. I always enjoy seeing a little envelope among the other junk.

And now it's Christmas time! It's time for Christmas cards. I love it!

Every day I open the mailbox and there is at least one envelope that is fun mail. It makes my heart happy.

Even more fun are unexpected packages! (well, let's be honest a long awaited order from Amazon.com at your door is pretty great too!). But an unexpected box tucked into the door jam is such a delight. Two days in a row that has happened at my house. It's just so fun!

Part of me thinks I should put them under the tree and wait until Christmas Eve to open them, but screw that! I open them almost as soon as I can get the scissors out from the kitchen drawer! And it's so good.

I know I am loved everyday. But today after opening packages and some Christmas cards, the words and thoughts of those I love are right in front of me. It's like getting a hug (in the mail).

If every person had one person who makes them feel this way, the world would be such a better place. I am so grateful.

Good tidings

"Good tidings we bring to you and your kin. We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year."

It's that time of the year. Christams. It means different things to different people for every reaons imaginable. For me, it has always meant a warm, coxy home filled with sights, smells, and people I love. It means celebrating with friends and family. It means traditions- both old and new. And it means giving of yourself and to others.

In high school, I started to save all my change and would fill my pockets and drop the spare change in the Salvation Army buckets anytime I went anywhere-- as soon as they were out. Some friends thought I was crazy, but it was just spare change and could help someone. I didn't find it embarassing in the least. And ever since, I have found something to do to give of myself each year.

Last year, for whatever reason I couldn't find that Christmas spirit. Literally it took some time with the munchkins and a drive by Clark Griswold's Michigan home before I even felt a little of the Christmas magic. This year I am back to normal. Nearing St. Nicholas Day I was excited for the season. Maybe it was all that early advertising? I mean it started in September in some places.

While my spirit may have been influenced by those ads, they definately didn't influence my purchasing dollars. As of today, I have only bought gifts for the munchkins. No one else. Luckily my family is celebrating in January (due to scheduling and want of time with one another).

Anyway-- back to where I found my spirit. The week after Thanksgiving I was starting to get worried that it would be hard to find again this year, but a random trip to Target made me find it. (weird and sounds a little sad at first, but wait...). As I said I was at Target, completely with the intention of buying myself some new couch pillows. I have spent LOTS of time in my living room lately (office and lounging) and needed a mini winter refresh. I had spotted the pillows on an earlier random adventure with two good friends.

When I walked into the store, I stopped at the $1 Spot (as I always do. I mean you never know what awesomeness you could find there for just $1). This occassion I found some fun little kid things and immediately thought of my friend KP. She and her mom are part of my Seattle family and appreciate the fun of St. Nicholas Day. Last year, St Nick had made a trip to their house and the $1 spot reminded me that St. Nick should go again. As soon as it started, I got giggly and excited thinking of the things that would be a surprise (and maybe needed) on Tuesday morning when they woke up for school. That St. Nick shopping did it. The giving of good tidings (okay not tidings but things) to another. I knew it would put a smile on their faces no matter what kind of a morning it was (and it turns out it was a very very very not good one).

Since that shopping trip, I have that same feeling of warmth. The Christmas spirit.

I make sure to fill a pocket with some spare change and brighten the day of the homeless man down the block, buy coffee for the person in line behind me or let that person go ahead of me in line.

"Good tidings we bring to you and your kin. We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year."

And while these gestures of kindness should be part of daily and regular life, this time of the year brings stress and worry for many so a little extra kindness never hurt anyone. In fact, it feels warm and fuzzy.

Civic responsibility

For the past two days I served my jury duty summons. I get called every few years and this is the first time I actually had to show up.

As you read, I had to take the bus. I was a commuter for a few days and am ever more grateful for the fact that my normal commute is the twenty feet from my bedroom to my desk in the living room. No worries about traffic or bus delays. The alarm clock is the only thing that stands in my way---that is if I set it for the correct time.

After the adventures of commuting, I reported for my first jury duty experience.

What a boring experience.

The shining spot was the woman who ran the show. She was friendly and informative. More than can be said for most folks in such a thankless role. She works with all of humanity. And beleive me, all of humanity was present in the jury assembly room- my home away from home for two days. Before being selected for a trial you could possibly be called into a jury filter courtroom multiple times.

I guess I was lucky and was only put into one trial and was dismissed following the longest process known to man (in my opinion).

The process to pick a jury is a tedious and arduous one. I do not envy anyone in the judicial system. And mean from the judges to the clerks to the lawyers to the defendants. What a process!

As a new observer, no matter how many times I was told, this is a great system-- the best in the world. I don't beleive it. As a person that has a tendency to do anything in the most efficient manner possible, this system was appaulingly inefficient.

It's a wonder to me that anything is ever decided.

Ever.

After being dismissed I was more than relieved. And now it seems like I have two more years to forgot about the experience and look upon a summons with the exuberance of one fellow juror who said she was honored when it arrived at her home.

As an American, I suppose I should feel that way. I should feel good that things are done in the name of justice. But even with all safe guards, I still have to wonder if the way it's done, is really the best way.

back on a bus.

And after the longest hiatus ever. (sorry my loyal readers, life just got a little busy and I decided to be social instead of blogging when I had a free minute.) I have made notes for the months that have gone by and if motivated (or stuck inside on a rainy day), I may update...we'll see.

Anyway, I am back. And am making my repost with bus adventures. :)
I received a jury summons about a month ago and today was the day. Included with the summons was a bus pass. Now, I took the bus a few times when I first moved to Seattle. Because it's that kind of town. But I quickly learned, I am not really that kind of person. Plus, I can avoid traffic-filled times of day because I don't commute further than the local coffee shop.
So, I was trying to figure out where to park, etc and asked a friend who recently went. Parking in downtown Seattle is pricey, so she suggested the bus. I did a little more research and leanred that I could go directly from the stop a few blocks away right to the front door of the courthouse. Not too bad. (And it would be free!).
So, I checked the schedule, made a plan and headed to the bus stop at 7:15 this morning.
To be honest, I was a little nervous. But I was just a commuter. No big deal.
The bus I needed to take was packed. There was no place to move and I had to stand the whole ride to 3rd and James (25 minutes). And of course, the smelliest dude EVER chose (or was shoved) right into me and just stayed put. Sadly, I could not go anywhere further. Ugh. So I had to stand there and try desperately not to throw up.
I arrived at my destination on time and breathed a huge breath of fresh air before spending most of the sunny day inside a court building. (I'll share more about that another day...)
At day's end, back to bus I went. This time there was space on the bus. I could sit.
There was also space for everyone to have their own row.
But I appartently look warm and inviting, so the sketchiest woman on the bus sat right next to me and started to talk to me. I swear I NEVER made eye contact.
Luckily she got off the bus where the free zone ended and the rest of the commute was weirdo free.
I am impressed by the system here, but still have some reservations. I attract weirdos. Weirdos ride public transit (airplanes included). Typically whenever possible, I avoid putting myself in these situations.
But I report again tomorrow and will do the whole thing once again. We'll see if it gets any better...

It wasn't a Halloween spider...

Do you remember that Bare Naked Ladies song that had a line-- "There's a spider in the room?". If not, that's reasonable. It was a song far into the album and definately not one of the popular songs. Anyway-- last night that line became, "There's a spider in my bed..."
Seriously.
I went to move a pillow so I could snuggle in under the covers and there is was- a giant eat-your-face spider right in the middle of my mattress. I am not ashamed to say that I screamed.
Then ran into the kitchen and grabbed a paper towel, squished that spider and promptly had to change my sheets. And those spider sheets could not stay in my room. No way, Jose! I had to go outside to the laundry and stuff them into the washer for prompt washing in the morning.
And of course, as I walked into the laundry area, I walked into a spider web! It was dark and I had on a dark sweatshirt, so I have no idea if the spider landed on me or what. shivers...
At that point, I started to strip and threw the clothes in the same wash and ran inside to wash off any potential spiders. Blech! I really, really hope no one was watching!
I have now learned that I must actually make my bed each and everyday. At least if the bed is made, the spiders will not be on my sheets.
Ugh!

Disease: unknown

In my ever-present fight against my random disease, today I had a check in the win column. Well, sort of.
Let me explain.
I am not a passive person. I'm not mean, but have been told that I am direct and honest. I blame my parents. ;) Actually I don't think it's a bad thing. I mean sure I may have hurt some feelings here and there, but no permanant damage done. I'm generally nice, even in my bluntness.
This non-passive part of my personality plays a huge part in my disease-fighting adventure. And I call it an adevnture because it is ever-changing. You never know what's going to happen, so everyday is an adventure.
The latest as I have posted about previously, is that I've had what I will call some episodes that have basically flat-llined me for a day. And then again for another day. Days where I thought I could die because I hurt so much. Days where I could not function like a normal person of my age. Uncool.
I discussed those days with my current bone ologist and she didn't respond in a way that I felt was okay. Not knowing is okay. My disease is very hard to understand. And it's not just her. I have been called a walking science experiment more times than I care to admit and she referred to my stuff as just weird. Perplexing. Odd. None of those things is what a patient wants to hear, but it's my normal.
Following my last appointment, I made the choice to seek out another opinion. Someone new to look at all the bloodwork and the symptoms and my case. He has an incredible reputation and specializes in autoimmune conditions. Super!
As of today the old bone ologist is fired (the non-passive part of me). While she's nice, I found someone I like better. Whom I think may actually do a better job in my treatment.
Although no major changes were made and no definitive diagnosis was made- he gave me some options. And threw out some possibilities.
In fact today I found out that the wrinkles appearing around my eyes and forehead (thanks, papa!) are a good, good thing. If they weren't there he was headed down a rather sacry possible path. Score one for wrinkles!
He also checked out my Grandma Schulte knees and said while some of the shape may be genetic, there is actually something wrong. Something to fix.
And although he didn't have answers or solutions today, he provided the thing that has been missing for awhile: Hope.
Hope that a new medication may stop the degeneration of my bones.
Hope that someday there will be a morning I won't wake up stiff and swollen.
Hope that someday my normal will be more aligned with others my age.
Hope.
It's a little word that has so much meaning. A word and feeling I am glad to have back in my life.

Six words this week.

Today while researching a school paper, I came across this random project called the Six-word Memoir. As a person who probably uses more words than she should, I thought this might be a random new weekly theme to add to this space. So starting today, each Monday I'll post my six word memoir for the week.

This week-- Can I hide under the covers?

Dr. Funk

This past week I was in Phoenix for some last minute event work and details. Things like parades and presidential visits really impact my event and event plans, so I sometimes need to revert to Plan G (progressing from Plan A). Throughout this year of planning three detailed events on my own (not overseeing, but being responsible for the whole kit and caboodle), I have learned to really roll with the punches and take things one day at a time. In the past I would be stressed to the max because pieces were out of place. (I am a little anal when it comes to the planning and details of my events.) This year, with so much on my plate, I have learned to not stress quite as much. To come to the table prepared but with the knowledge that things will definately not be the way I want them to be. Sometimes those changes are good, other times, they are just frustrating.

Along with the ability to be less stressed, I am including real life into my world. Making time for myself and to spend time with people I love and laugh with has been a huge help to keeping my stress level lower than anticipated. The event will happen and the groundwork I have done will ensure that even Plan G will be just fine. Walkers will enjoy themselves, sponsors will get what they need and my co-workers won't have too difficult of a time with the detials.

This past week I worked hard and negotiated and mapped things out, and ended up frustrated. In the midst of the crazy, I had some fun with a few favorites (old favorites). I didn't put the message out to many that I was in town because I knew I would have lots of work to be done and more than an hour for dinner was not an option. But on Friday night, I met some good friends for a breather. I couldn't take the word no anymore...it was getting heartbreaking. And schools and businesses aren't open after 6pm. There was not a whole lot of urgent work that could be done. So, I met friends at a new place. We were celebrating a belated birthday, a completed event season (not for me...) and the freedom from braces. We all got an adult beverage. I opted for a fun, fruity drink called Dr. Funk. It seemed fitting since I was in a bit of a funk. This is what the beverage was served in---

BEST GLASS EVER!

I mean, for real. How super fun and HILARIOUS is that guy? Instantly, the day improved. Laughter came more easily and I relaxed. The good pals I was dining with were definately part of that change in perspective, but Dr. Funk definately played a role!

Dr. Funk came home with me and housed my morning coffee. It was a dreary, rainy, and dark morning today but not in my house. I had a mug with a foo-man chu! Happy Monday!

Alone at last...

Last night was the first night in two years that the men in my life did not join me.

Now before you start to think I am some scandalous lady who writes about activities on a blog that her grandmother reads...the "men" I speak of are the rubberbands named Louie, Greg and Roger that I have had to wear with the braces.

Louie has been with me since almost day one. I would like to say I'll miss him, but I won't. Not even a little bit.

Maybe that makes me a heartbreaker, but I don't care. When it comes to those three, goodbye could not come fast enough!

Before my appointment on Wednesday I threw all those little packets away. And took the trash out. No more. No thanks.

That said, those three are tricky and like any great love in your life even after a break-up, little reminders will come around to try to get you back. And there are sure to be little Louie's, Roger's and Greg's floating around.

But I have nowhere to wear them now....Hooray!

Adidos, boys! Forever.

Sunday Funday

Today is Sunday. I used to really dislike Sundays. For some reason, I always feel Sunday is a "family" day and it's been several years since I've lived near my family. Not that we ever did much on Sundays--other than church in the morning. Otherwise, the day was spent doing chores, helping do some sort of yardwork, nothing notable or miss-able really.

Since moving to Seattle my dislike of Sundays has changed. Aside from the fact that it means I go back to work tomorrow, I actually enjoy Sundays. It means the market is in full effect-- flowers for sale, food trucks to experience, and generally incredible people-watching. No matter what--there is always something to do.

Most weekends I am in my proper home, I start out with no plans but end up enjoying the day either alone or with various pals.

Last week, I discovered and wondered around in a new part of town as I was passing some time between meeting friends for brunch and then some other friends for dinner. This week, I woke up late and had a lazy morning and ended up having a random adventure with two (and surprise a third) favorite. It was a randomly fun day filled with good people.

I think my dislike of Sundays has officially been squashed.

a change of plan.

Do you have days when nothing major was supposed to happen and you planned to get a whole bunch of little things done, but then things come up to change the scope of the day? (well that was a run-on sentence...anyway) Today was that day for me. Last night I had a hard time falling asleep because my mind was full. I decided to get out of bed and make a list to try to put my mind at ease.
This morning I woke up to a very full list and had every intention of completing it. Well, a few things came up that changed the game. Some collegues needed some help. Which is no big thing. But the things they needed help with were some brainstorms and troubleshooting. As we discussed solutions to the issues, I found my stride. I was super happy for no real good reason. I was having fun.
In these very different conversations, I stepped back into my previous Manager role. It's been so long since I have used that part of my brain and my skills.
This sounds arrogant, but I was (am) good at that part of my job. I miss it. As I was trying to figure out why I was so happy about my "successful" day and yet still had a 2 page to-do list in front of me, I realized that kind of teamwork and trouble-shooting is what I miss in my current role. That part of my work really fulfilled something in me. It was fun.
It also helped to show me what exactly it is about my new (well as of last year) role that feels incomplete.
Today I was accomplished even if I still have a two page to-do list to tackle.

Assigned Seats?

Today was my second class.

Last week when I got to class (15 minutes early), the classroom was almost full and I was one of the last to arrive. Seats were limited, so I had to sit in the front row. I do not enjoy sitting that close. Not in class. Not at the movies. Not in a theatre. Not in church. I am a "near the back" person. Or Mezzazine. My seating choice does not mean that I don't pay attention. I simply prefer the "big picture" view. So, last week in the front row was definately not my ideal.

This week I arrived about the same time and as I walked toward the classroom I silently cursed myself for not making an earlier plan of arrival for better seating options. I walked into the room and it was practically empty. (Bonus!) I made a bee line for the back row, center aisle seat. The back row is elevated and only 4 rows back, so you're still close and are definately part of any conversation that ensues.

Since I was an early arrival, I watched as other students rolled in. And I swear almost every single person sat in the exact same seat as they did last week. After the 7th or 8th person did it, it became a little comical. Most hilarious was when the guy who was seated in my new seat walked in, made a beeline for the area and then realized that someone else was sitting in "HIS" chair. His face was priceless--a combination of shock and entitlement quickly turned into minor panic at where he would not have to seat himself. I almost felt bad enough to move. Almost.

But as I sat there, I satrted to really wonder why we are all such creatures of habit. It's kind of weird.

I know I am definately a creature of habit. I take the same roads places, even if I know it's not the most efficient route, it's just the way I always go--now it's a habit. Or how I park in the places when I pop to any store. (I used to make fun of my mom for doing the same exact thing!). But all of these habits have formed after countless ventures to the place. They definately were not formed after one visit. I just find it curious. (and a little funny).

Now I am thinking I may just mix it up every class. It might be kind of fun to see who freaks out. But as a super bonus it will allow me to figure out who the most enjoyable people are and then I can become a creature of habit and sit near them week after week. I'll keep you posted.

(I already know it will not be the guy who wears green. On day one, I knew he was the guy who would drive me bananas. Thus far, in class two, I am right on.)

Under the covers

The weather is changing.

Temperatures are cool.

The sun is not out all that much these days.

My house gets chilly, especially in the early morning hours.

With all the damp, grey and coolness around it is VERY hard to get out from under the covers.

My bed sucks me and keeps me there.

This morning, I woke up early and had a huge plan for the day. But instead my bed called my name and was just too cozy to leave it. I read for awhile and then decided to close my eyes and take a little nap.

It was lucious and ridiculous.

Egg-head

Yesterday, I started my class.

I got to campus a bit early, paid my parking fee (I really am a grown-up), grabbed a Pumpkin Spice Latte and walked through campus to find my classroom. I felt like I was back on campus at MSU. Am I really doing this again?

As I sat in the class, my mind wandered a bit, thinking about what this new experience could bring. There were a mix of people in the class. Interesting and diverse. Already, there is a guy who I know will drive me nuts. There's always one, right?

But, mostly I just got excited at the idea of learning.

I am a nerd. Always have been. Likely always will be.

In 6th grade, my friends and I would have sleepovers and read. My mom has called me her little egg-head for years.

And I like it.

I like that I am curious.

I like to be challenged and expand my brain. Yes, sometimes it hurts to try to think in a different manner, but in the end it's always a good thing.

And I felt like this class will provide that brain stretch that I have missed in the last couple years. I have been in the same job for 6 years. The position has opportunities to present challenges--some good ones, some not so good. But it's been awhile since I have really learned anything new. I'm an old dog and need to learn some new tricks.

I am so excited!

Question of the week...

Tomorrow I start my class. As I posted previously, I am both nervous and excited about this prospect.

I am a procrastinator (as I have been for my whole life), but I thought that might change when I am paying for the class myself.

Yeah, Not so much.


I promise I had the best of intentions when I got my first assignment early last week. I have been thinking about it and making a mental plan for when I'd read that article, watch the video and write a two page paper. I started to yesterday and then totally distracted myself with some super random stuff on the internet while I was doing research....whoops! Talk about a rabbit hole. Yikes, I was bound to find Alice* somewhere in there. By the time I pulled myself out of the rabbit hole it was late and I did not feel I was at my best so I opted to put it off one more day. And here we are one day before the class and I finally did the assignment. I woke up early and was showered, dressed, and beginning to get caffinated all before the construction dudes showed up next door. I was focused and finished the assigment before my workday started at 8:30am. It's done and I actually feel good about it.


But now as I print the paper and materials I'll need for class, I am nervous.
Questions plaguing my mind--
- Where is the classroom?
- Where on earth do I park?
- How much time should I give myself to get to class? It's rushhour and I have little practice.
- what should I wear???

Of all things, the question of what to wear is nagging at me. I know it's stupid. I know no one will actually care what I arrive in. But that's what I will be nervous about.

Maybe it's because I can actually tell you what I wore on most of my other first days of school. Weird, right?



On my first day of Kindergarten, I wore an outfit that was a hand-me-down. It was purple (my favorite color) and I remember thinking I was so cool. I got to ride the bus (!) and go to school (!!). Of course, I loved school. My dad loves to share the story of how I came home and was 5-year-old pissed that I didn't have homework. He really liked to remind me of that whenever I complained about homework in my later years. (I can hear you now, Papa. No more complaints.)





I attended a Catholic school for my elementary years, so I wore a school uniform for the remaining 6 first days of school. I always had a new pair of "good" (and expensive--thanks mom and papa) shoes, fancy socks and a bow that matched. My hair was always placed in pink rollers while I slept so I would wake up with "dressed-up" hair. We would lay out our school bags and new supplies the night before so we would be ready for the 7am bus pickup.

In 7th grade, we had moved and I attended a public school for the first time in my life. I got to participate in "back to school" shopping and decide what I was going to wear. My favorite outfit that year (in that school) was pegged-jeans (I cannot believe that is making a comeback, btw!), thick socks, and a horizontal striped shirt in purple and green. (Think Barney...). I thought I looked so awesome! (yikes). We moved around a bit during this timeframe, so the other first days at the new schools are a bit fuzzy. I am quite sure that other first days consisted of some sort of oversized vest and a button-down. (Give me a break...it was the Memphis/Midwest version of grunge.)

By high school, I had been in public school for a few years and had been settled in one school system for a little over a year. I knew where kids shopped and what was "cool". Starting the 9th grade, there were two first days. The very first "first" day was only 9th graders. I think it eased us in. And the second day was with everyone. I OBSESSED over what I was going to wear on both days. I am pretty sure I had it planned out for weeks. I wore a sunflower t-shirt and brown jeans (they matched the inside of the sunflower...oh yeah!) for the 9th-grade only first day of school. I had insanely long hair at the time so made sure to have a scrunchie that matched! And for the forst day of school with everyone I wore jeans and a tie-dye t-shirt. I still own (and wear) that tie-dye.
I am not 100% sure of what I wore the remaining first days of high school, but am pretty sure one day was a borrowed plaid shirt from my dad that he didn't know about until he tried to get dressed for work (thanks, papa). Likely a sports uniform was in the mix, and probably a pair of overalls worn with birkenstocks and wool socks. (Yep, super cool...)




By the time I got to college, I was in my hippe phase of life. My mom sent me away to college and reminded me that I should wash my jeans at least once a week. Showering was not neccessarily a daily habit. And I LOVED overalls. :)

My roommate (Joann Van) and I actually took a photo on the first day of class. I was full of oversized, grey school spirit.




After that trip down memory lane, whatever I wear on my first back to school will be an improvement!


*Alice from Alice in Wonderland. Get it? Because she follows the rabbit down the hole and a whole array of craziness ensues.

Not your average bear

I am in Arizona this week. And it is a toasty fall day. The sun is out and blazing all day, but then it gets dark so early.

I forgot about that.

When it gets dark so soon, I become like a bear. I get sleepy and snack-y and want to lay down and take a nap for winter.

Ok- that might be an exaggeration, but I still eat WAY more than normal and go to bed insanely early for a 31-year-old.

The early dark hours bring out my inner Winnie the Pooh.

"When you wake up in the morning, Pooh," said Piglet at last, "what's the first thing you say to yourself?"
"What's for breakfast?" said Pooh. "What do you say, Piglet?"
"I say, I wonder what's going to happen exciting today?" said Piglet.
Pooh nodded thoughtfully.
"It's the same thing," he said

One Hundred!

My last post was my 100th post...craziness!

Kids celebrate the 100th day of school with parties and games.

Libraries, cities and jurisdictions celebrate their centennials with festivals and ceremony.

Writing 100 posts is not on the same level as the above items, but it is still something I am excited about.

So, cheers to 100 posts of adventues and musings.

It's been so fun to share and write.

Thanks for being part of the first 100. Here's to the next 100!

Thanks for being part of the experience!

Yikes and Yippee!

It's been a long while since I have had butterflies.

For me, I get butterflies when I am excited and nervous all at once. Butterflies tend to happen to me when I am looking forward to something new, something unknown. I kind of like them. It means something exciting is about to happen.

Today the butterflies came back when I got my first assignment for my new class.

I was accepted into a certificate program at the University of Washington. I was accepted months ago, but have been a little bit busy. Thus, the start of school was pushed back in my mind. I have gotten a few emails about the class, but October 4 just seemed super far away. Until today.

Today I got my first assignment.

It's due next week.

On the first day of school.

Yikes!

And Yippee!

I am so very excited to be in a class and challenge my brain in a new way. But I am also nervous. I haven't had a first day of school in over 9 years.

Butterflies.

Love is a Subaru

My job requires lots of travel and with it, lots of car rentals. Over the years, I have had many, many random car rental experiences--many of which I would care to avoid. Some humorous (remember the Jetta), and some just annoying- like the scorching roof of the Wrangler, and some just plain unsafe- like the recent car breakdown during rush hour.

The sizes of the cars vary as much as the stories.

I have enjoyed some of the cars and have wanted to ditch some of them as fast as I get in them.

Today, I picked up a Subaru. Love.

You need to know I have wanted to own a Subaru Outback for many years. In fact, I purchased my Vibe because it was close to being a Subaru and it came with a good story and super fun delivery guy! I heart my car. It's compact, but four doors so adults can ride in comfort. The silver color was perfect for the hot desert sun.

Then I moved to the Pacific Northwest. There are mountains here. And last year, I got stuck due to a lack of a 4X4 car. Sad. My desire for a Subaru began again.

My car is still perfectly good. I have no desire to have a car payment for additional years, so I have no intentions of buying a new car.

But for this week, I will enjoy the ride.

Love is a Subaru (right?).

Sneaky Pete!

My Seattle 3-Day event occured last weekend. Overall it was a good event. There were a few things that could have gone better (always). 1- the weather could have better (less rain) and the sprinklers could have stayed off. But as I said, overall it was good.

When creating the route, there were a few moments of "angels singing" as I discovered Mt Rainier in the distance. It was the pefect background to an already great route. But, as anyone here knows, Mt. Rainier is (what I term) a saucy bitch that appears when it feels like it. Not when you want to see it. And this week was no exeption. The mountain appeared Mon- Fri and was spectatcular! Of course.

Even though it was hiding through most of the event, I LOVE that mountain. It still takes my breath away whenever it seems to pop out as if out of nowhere! How a 14,000 ft. mountain can appear as if out of nowhere is still a delightful mystery to me.

What's in a Name?

I am woman of many names. Okay, not many but a few.

My given name is: Jessica Marie Schulte.

I think it's lovely. I share my middle with my mom and all of my dad's sisters. It's a "plain jane" kind of name, but it has some history and I like that. My fist name is not an original 1980's name. In fact, it was the most popular name for a girl born in 1980. But my parents didn't know that. My mom just knew she couldn't name her baby after the office hootchie she worked with (or so I am told.) Which makes me laugh. And let's be honest- Schulte is kind of a fun two syllable name. So, in short-- I like my name.

While my given name is great, I come from a family of nicknamers. (Read: my dad has a funny name for anyone he loves...always has). So, from the day of my birth, I was henceforth known to most anyone who loved me as Beaner. At the age of three, I told people that was my name- Beaner Schulte. (That was quickly corrected before I started pre-school!). That nickname has stuck with me ever since. It has morphed into Bean and Beanie as the years went on. My mom says I was "the orginal Beanie baby. (Insert giggle and an eye roll here.) I always knew I was in serious trouble or there was a problem when my parents actually called me Jessica. God forbid--Jessica Marie. If that came out of a mouth, I was really in BIG trouble.

In high school, I started to encounter other Jessicas. And it got confusing. And because I was an athlete (not sure why that has anything to do with it, but it seems to make sense to me), people called me Schulte. Even a boyfriend did and I had to tell him--No. I have a first name and if you want to kiss, that will need to be the name you use. (I have some sass, sometimes.). Anyway, throughout high school, my last name was the name that was used. A few people call me Jess, but most called me Jessica or Schulte. And Jess was reserved for really good friends, not the masses.

Then I became a professional. I work for a fairly casual company where we all get along really well, so easy friendships are formed. Some of those work friends started to call me Jess. That was okay and I embraced it. After all-- Jessica is three syllables and 7 letters to type versus 1 syllable and 4 letters. But then other people started...and it became my name at work. No longer reserved for close pals. People introduced me to business contacts that way, even the client we work for refers to me as Jess. The "ica" portion of my name just disappeaered. And it kind of annoys me.

Yesterday, I was working with some of our volunteers and they just started to call me Jess. I know it shouldn't bug me that much, but it made me crazy. In all my years before now, Jess was reserved for those that know me well. These people don't know me at all. In fact, I don't even really like them all that much and here they were using the name that has always been reserved for closeness. Jessica is how I introduce myself, how I sign an email, and it is actually my name.

I want my "ica" back!

**Note- likely if you read this blog, you are close enough to call me Jess, don't worry.

City Love- part 2

I had to venture into downtown Seattle today to pick up some permits for my upcoming event. A trip that can be both a joy and a pain.
Per usual, today it was both.
I drove around the same block 6 times while trying to find the building I was going to and then trying to find parking in the same area. The ladies waiting at the bus stop waved at me the 3rd, 4th, and 5th times I circled. By the 6th, I felt like I should say stop and say hello. Perhaps make some new friends! But I found the spot and got down to business.
After I picked stuff up, I headed for home. Due to a wrong turn (whoops! sometimes I am still "new"), I ended up driving near the Pike's Place Market. And there was parking right near the entrance. Soooo, of course I stopped! (How could I not? It was as though it was meant to be.)
I popped into the market and partook in all of the loveliness that Seattle has to offer---

$5 boquets of flowers, fresh local strawberries and of course, a Starbucks iced passion tea (my latest addiction!).
Best detour ever!

And yet one more reason why I love where I live.
I mean, where else could I pick up that kind of loveliness for less than $20?

Fun with water!

Water is theraputic for my mind, body and soul. Especially being in the water. I am a water-bug and always have been. I loved the pool and Lake Michigan from the start.
As I have aged, the pool has become a tool to keep my joints moving and grooving. The water (or lack thereof) was a huge factor in why I always knew Arizona couldn't be a permanant home for me. I crave it.
I love Seattle for many things, but love it most for the closeness of water and the pure joy it brings to my heart.
On Sunday, I was lucky and I got to play in the Sound with my friends Emily and Kaisa. I love being in the water. I also love watching little kids play in the water. They make it so much more fun!
Here's a little video of our time---

Just listen to her squeals and it's hard not to join in the fun!

City love!

Today was an excellent reminder about just one of the 999 reasons why I love where I live. :)

I spent the day on the beach, playing in the ocean and laughing with friends. It was a gorgeous day to be outside and in the water (albeit in freezing water).

And then tonight, I can wear a sweatshirt!

I love it.

It's like an awesome day Up North, everyday.

Hooray.

Cheers to new adventures!

Today (well, this weekend) is the start to new adventures.

Before you start to think I am on the move again, the adventure is not mine. It is for a few loves of my life.

My cousin and her family are embarking on a journey eastward.

Her lovely hubby got a job in their old hood and they are making the move.

They met in Maryland and started their life together there. Then an unexpected change happened and my brave and selfless cousin moved home to support her family. Her love soon followed and they began their life together in the mitten state. They got engaged on Lake Michigan, hosted a winter wedding in the snow and cold in a fmialiar place, and started a family in the home she grew up in. The house was filled with happy (and probably some sad) memories, but they started to freshen things up with their own family traditions.

The house they made their home was already filled with great traditions, stories and more love than anyone could ask for. That house came with built-in memories (which can be good and bad, I am sure), it came with a built-in support system. It came with traditions. But this brave couple, made it their own. They encorporated the old with the new. They welcomed the old, but embraced the new and exciting. That house filled with all her childhood memories became her home for 6 years (!). Life had changed and continues to change and will never be the same. That home where they started their own family is now up for sale. And they are headed east to a different home. Leaving behind the house, but bringing the memories and traditions with them to only to continue to build the loving home that will always surround them.

As they embark on this new adventure, I know there will be tears. But they will bring with them all that love and support that surrounded them. They will make new memories and create a home in a new place.

No matter what I know it will be a happy place.

I can't wait to see where this adventure takes them. And can't wait to go for a visit!

I do not like it.

(should have been posted 9/1/11)

Today I woke up after a fitful night of sleep and felt as bad as I have felt in 6 years. I swear I was back to before I even knew what was wrong with me. Ugh.
I hurt everywhere- my back, my bones. I swear even my hair hurt.
Normally, I am achy on a daily basis, but I don't hurt. I can tolerate achy.
Hurt is hard to tolerate. Hurt I don't like. Hurt makes me crabby. Hurt interrupts my normal life. I DON'T LIKE IT!

Hurt reminds me that I have a disease that no one understands.
That likely I will need assistance of some kind earlier than most as I age.
That my diseases(s) are always there, even if I don't want to believe it or acknowledge it.
That my disease continues to evolve and affect different parts of my being.
Hurt reminds me that I am sick.
Admitting this is something I also do not like.

I want to believe I am normal. And do, most of the time.
The last six months have been testing this mindset like I have never been tested before. I am much more aware of the changes and challenges of having this disease (and if I'm being honest, a disability.)
Whether people admit it or not, I know they make accomodations for me. And while I appreciate their thoughfulness, I hate that it has to happen. I hate that someone might need to think about trusting me to help with a project. That they can't just call and make the ask. (I mean, I guess it gets me out of the heavy lifing, but I'd gladly make that trade!)
I hate that I have to think about whether or not I have a place to sit on the beach or in the park. I can make jokes to ease the situation, but it still sucks that I even have to think about it.
That has just become part of the routine of life. Life is life and it moves along. You make accomodations to make it work. So it does.
But unlike other times, ths time the hurt really hurts. It affected my ability to do my job. It affected my ability to be an indepentdent adult. I considered calling my dad to come and just be around because I got scared that I wouldn't be able to live a normal life if I hurt this much. I don't like it. Actually, I hate it.
But on the flipside, I am ever-more grateful to work at a place that can allow me to take a day and take some rest (I have never done that before). I am ever-more grateful for the support and love from friends, family, and co-workers.
And I am especially grateful for my (though sometimes annoying) perpetual optimism.
The silver-lining default mode makes even a bad day tolerable. And that I like.

This is for the birds.

(should have been posted 8/31/11)

Today, my boss came to town to take a tour of the Seattle 3-Day route. A day to familiarize himself with the route and the sites before the actual event weekend. I have a million things on my plate and this was just one more, but I guess it never hurts to check out the route and sites.

We started the day with a meeting with all my big-wigs. Nothing like going to a meeting with all the important people in the vicinity and your boss. (Oh and referring to a Chief of Police as Dude in front of them all--yeah, that really happened.). But I would mark both the meeting and the drive a success. Hooray.

Mid-way through the day, the boss-man had a call, so we stopped for a long lunch. He started to eat and had to take the call, so left me at the table with his half-eaten lucnh and to finish my lunch . No big deal. I am lady who dines alone while working a lot. It was a nice afternoon, so we opted to dine outside. There are no bugs, so dining outdoors is an exceptional option. I mean there are birds, but typically they aren't aggressive. Typically, is the key word there.

As I was saying, boss-man took a call away from the table and I finished eating and was then trying to keep email in check by using my phone and was not paying attention to his half-eaten lunch. All of a sudden there was a loud rustling, so I looked up. A crow was stealing his sandwich off his plate! I squealed, of course. The bird dropped the sandwich on the table. The other patrons were as shocked as me. I just there, shocked and laughing a little. I mean, seriously, how was I going to explain why he couldn't eat the half of sandwich? And how it got moved? I mean, who would believe a crow could do that?! (Another example of why birds hate me. See here for my previous one.)

So, I let the sandwich sit there and I continued to email and debate about how I was going to explain why his sandwich was on the table and not on his plate where he left it. After a little bit longer, I needed to visit the ladies room, so I got up and went inside.

I came back out, and a table of businessmen were laughing. One yelled over to let me know that the crow had stolen the rest of the sandwich almost immediately after I got up. I got to the table and in fact the sandwich and all the fries were gone! The crows were enjoying them in the birdbath over the fance. (And I think laughing at me....). The waiter came over and explained that he put in a to-go order. And reminded me that I need to be vigilent around those birds. For real.

When the boss-man returned, I explained and he just laughed along with me. And then put together my dislike of birds and laughed a little harder.

Damn birds.

(and really who else does this happen to???)

Brace Face for Life!

(should have been posted on 8/29)

Okay, okay. So maybe the title of this email is an exaggeration and a bit dramatic, but that's exavctly how it feels. And if I am in 7th grade then I'm going to act like it (just a little) and be dramatic and whine.
I went to the orthodontist today with the hopes that this would be it. The last official appointment before the braces come off. Wrong. Again.

His stated- "end of summer" prediction was off. Way off, in fact. In no calendar or mind that I am aware is October the "end of summer". In fact, I am quite sure that is actually full blown fall. In my world that is when leaves are "on fire" in the midwest and new england, when the temps finally fall below 98 in Phoenix, and when I can't keep windows open all the time in Seattle. It's fall. Not summer.

And for me this year, October is the start to a new school year. My first day of school since I was in college. In fact, it is edging on almost 8 years since I have had a first day of class (whoa!). And I really didn't want to start the first day of school with braces. Dang!

He promises that I will be brace-free before my first day of school, but I am not going to hold my breath. I think I'd suffocate.

Home Sweet Home

(should have been posted Saturday, 8/27)

Yay! After a month on the road I am home.

While I loved my time with friends and on the beach, it is so very nice to be in my own place.

I got to check out my garden, visit my favorite flower vendor, and buy some fresh Yakima fruit. Yum!

Tomorrow, I have a date with my couch. It's supposed to be sunny outside, but I am still scarred from the gross Phoenix temps that reached a maximum of 117 on Friday. No gracias! Instead of enjoying the gorgeous sun, I am going to enjoy the cool breezes through my open window and catch up on the DVR! Nerdy- sure. Lazy- you betcha! But, it will be amazing!

The Mexicans got it right

As I continue to spend time on the surface of the sun...er, I mean in Phoenix, I have made the decision that the Mexicans got it right. We should close up shop, hide under our sombreros and take a siesta in the mid-to-late afternoon.

It is too damn hot outside.

For real.

I had to do a walking tour of my campsite this morning and at 10am it was already a scorching 107 degrees outside. As we walked the contact was literally melting in front of my eyes and my arm pits started to resemble something out of a high school gym class. I mean, GROSS.

Any concept of a "dry heat" flies out the window after it reaches 110 degrees. And on top of that, August is the peak of monsoon season which brings in moisture. It's not Florida moisture, but it's muggy outside. Again, GROSS.

I am ready for my siesta.

Coffee Talk

I know I have taken some time away and have a few backlog posts to post, but in the meantime...

I am currently on the surface of the sun (or Phoenix) and needed to work from a coffee place to get some caffeine and organize my route ideas before heading out on the road to make an amazing route.
Of course in my grand tradition of coffee location experiences, I found a seat next to a "Chatty" table. Normally, I have the ability to tune out these chats while I am working. In fact, that seems to help me focus. (I think it's because I did my homework at the kitchen table as a kid.). Anyway, today, I found the only available plug next to the chattiest of chatty tables! The women seated there were clearly working on something. As I listened, they were too loud to ignore. I realzied they were planning a 5K walk of some kind. My interest was peaked.
And as I continued to listen, my heart rate picked up and my level of annoyance became "grated". The woman who was the chairperson literally had NO clue what she was talking about. And my inner control-freak wanted to make a full appearance. It took everything in me, not to interject and tell her exactly what she should be doing.
As my blood pressure reached high, I decided I needed to relocate before just shouting at the woman....
Maybe I need to lay off the caffeine. Yikes!

My weekend

This weekend was (is) the Michigan 3-Day for the Cure event. I have jokingly referred to this as my "middle-child" event. (Sorry middle kids) But in my experience, middle-kids tend to be more mellow than the oldest and youngest, so they might get a little ignored sometimes or forgotten about.

Although Michigan is my first event, it has been pushed to the back of my to-do list...it's easy, it's low-key (up until it needed serious attention two weeks out). But in the interim, I missed the loveliness that the Michigan event offers. The route was beautiful-- quaint downtowns, a mix of trails and neighborhood. Good stuff.

And then add the AMAZING community spirit--for real. It is was insane! Downtown Plymouth looked like it does during an art fair. But it was all for the walkers. No art, just walkers. Smiles and cheers everywhere. Incredible!

Friday began with the makings of a perfect event- low humidity, low temps, bue skies with some clouds. We were looking forward to a nice weekened with the "low-key" kid.

But Mother Nature had a different plan.

The command staff watched a radar like it was an overtime sporting event. All eyes glued on the streak of red, yellow and green. Slowly asessing the situation and the elements we could control and calculating risk-- do we keep people outside? do we move them into the school? how bad is this thing going to get? If it's just a bit of rain, they can hang out. It'll be fine.

The sun was shining and we started to tell participants about the weather- to redcue panic in the slight chance for .

As we were telling them about a slight chnce for a thunderstorm, the scary black cloud was creeping up behind the trees, bringing its menacing lightening and loud thunder claps. And a deluge of rain.

The team burst into action to get participants to safety and out of the elements. It was a sea of orange jackets. we called in the buses, opened the school and sent the team in to prep for an overnight stay. And then it was over.

The rain was gone, the lightening and thunder with it. In it's wake, was a soaking wet staff, soaked and annoyed walkers, and a soggy campsite. But with all that wet, came a sigh of relief.

And a little celebration with McDonald's.....

and good friends.

I don't get it.

This is a random thought...

Yesterday, I went into a bathroom stall (a flushing toilet is a luxury when I am on event) and was the first person in the bathroom. Within 2 seconds another woman came in and went into the stall right next ti mine. The bathroom was empty except the stall I was in. Really? Was it necessary for that lady to take up space in the stall right next to me??

It's weird. Or maybe it's just me...

A Cardi saves the day!

Today I learned two very important fashion lessons:

1- I am so very happy that I do not have to wear a suit and heels to work everyday (or ever, really)

2- A cardigan can make almost any outfit "business casual".

Both lessons were learned while in impromptu meetings at Ford Motor Company. My contact called and asked for a last minute meeting. I was in the area, but was only in scouting gear (comfy car gear, not business wear). So, I told her I was "casual" because they do have a buidling dress code. When I showed up, she looked and me and said I would fit right in. I was wearing jean capris that have fashionable tears (no skin is revealed), a cute shirt and a cardi. I think the cardi is what made the outfit "appropriate".

Yay for the favorite Cardi. (It really is too bad that Old Navy had those annoying commercials last Christmas. It took a little of the sparkle away...made them annoying.)

And just like that...

I feel I sometimes take for granted the great job that I have and the incredible work that we do (for a worthy cause). In the midst of the busy season, I sometimes forget why I do this job. I get caught up in the minutia and forget that I produce an event that makes money for a great cause. It's easy to forget that when I am convincing a guy (a jerk) that letting the event use his parking lot will not in fact be the inconvience he thinks it will be. Or when I am jumping through the 102nd hoop that a city has thrown my way just to use their sidewalk. At this time of the year, it is especially difficult to remember the big picture (if it's not an event).

And then I get a reminder that stops me in my tracks. And brings a tear to my eye. And an anxious feeling in my heart. I am reminded that all these annoyances are worth it.

I have the privelge of planning events that earn millions of dollars that get used to find a cure for a disease that takes away mothers, aunts, and friends. The money raised goes to help find medicines that help allow a young woman to not only survive a stage 4 diagnosis but thrive and enjoy a real life. Or to find links that allow a person to find out if she is genetically dispositioned. No matter what until there is a cure, whatver the answer, it is not an easy path. Either to figure out how to afford the medicines that keep the cancer away. Or to know that you have the gene that is almost guaranteed to bring cancer. But these advancements that my events have raised money for, allow a patient to have choice. And making a choice means that you have control. And to say that you have some control in the outcome is pretty darn cool.

And to know that I play a role (albeit a VERY small role) in these advancements is truly a joy (even with the annoyances and the hoop jumping.)

July? Where did you go?

Today as I was adding to my to do list I realized it was July 28.
Um, what?
It is three days before the first of August. Ugh.
Seriously, what happened to July?!

Not only am I shocked because that means I am traveling again on Monday (dang, three weeks flew by!), but it means that the insanity of my event season is about to begin. To be honest, it kind of already has.

I was talking with some friends yesterday (who are all in the event world) and we discussed how much we miss summer. While we are seemingly busier than most during the summer months (because let's be honest, when else can you host a series of events without snow?). In truthfulness, our season lasts until the start to the holiday season. So really we miss the end of summer and all of fall.

More than anything it made me wonder if missing summer has more to do with being a grown-up than with our actual jobs. Aside from teachers, no other professional I know still gets summer break. We all take vacations but don't get a full month or two months away from work. Now, I am not saying that doesn't make sense. It does. I cannot imagine being in a classroom filled with kiddos ALL day for over 200 days of the year. That is exhausting! I am wiped after spending a full day with one (maybe two) of my munchkins. It's the best day, but tiring.

So, my conclusion on that topic of summers lost is that it's just one more notch on the belt of age that sometimes beats you.
No more summer break.
Time literally flies by.
Oh, and you get wrinkles! (diss!)

quotable quotes

I will admit, I am a nerd. For years, my mom called me her "little egg head". I enjoy nerdy-type things. Not Star Wars, or Sci-fi-y things but brain tickler type things. Really, I love science (real not fiction) and words.

My love of words comes from a youth being given great books, including poetry probably beyond my years. But I loved it all. In fact, one of my favorite St. Nicholas Days*, I spent the better part of the eveing reading an American Girl book called Molly until my mom finally made me come upstairs for dinner. I literally felt like I could have read all night.

My love of words, phrases and books continued. I used words in my photo books (before scrapbooking was the THING to do), and cut out quotes and phrases that meant something to me and hung them on walls, and places to see. (I feel like that might be more a teenage girl rather than a nerdy thing, but whatevs). where my word enjoyment gets nerdy is in the purchase of quote books. (I still have several).

As youth turned into adulthood, I still find myself making notes about phrases in books, cards that have meaning, and general phrase merriment. And I think living in Seattle has only encouraged this love.

In my local hood, there are two businesses that place quotes on their outdoor signs. I honestly have NO idea what either business is, but I enjoy the posted quotes and phrases. Nine out of Ten times, the quote is somehow relatable to my life. And yesterday's was no exception.

I had a rather bleak day of news yesterday (long, unenjoyable story) and took a walk. On the way home, I drove past one of the quotable quotes and it read: Stress is what happens when your brain says no, but your mouth says Yes. It could not have been a more perfect quote for my life these days (just that time of year with my job and with my weird body). It made me laugh and think a little.

The walk and the giggle made me a much happier camper.

But what really changed my mood was a good chat with a good friend and then today some little things made me remember how little these stressful things matter in life. A note from a dear one filled with words changed my perspective. Just words made all the difference.

*So, for those that don't know. St. Nicholas day is celebrated on December 6. It was a Schulte family tradition that we embraced. Our tradition was to get our stockings (awesome in Elementary school to brag about to friends) in the morning and ours were filled with a chocolate orange, underwear, and I think a game (I may be mixing up easter basket & stocking). My grandma Schulte always sent books- mostly Christmas, but sometimes other kinds. It's fun to hear how my cousins celebrated and what they got compared to what we did. But we all woke up to the magic of Christmas a little early. We also shared the tradiditon with friends and classmates as we aged. You can find the real history here.

It's official.

Birds actually hate me.

Seriously.

I know they do.

I know it deep down in my being. No one esle has weird bird encounters, but I do frequently.

And this weekend it was proven once again.

I enjoyed the gorgeous sunny Seattle weekend by going to the beach yesterday. I was settled in a nice spot, enjoying the sun, sounds of the surf, and people watching. And then it happened.

A bird pooped on me!

I yelled (maybe swore a little) and went directly into the frigid waters of the Puget Sound. (Seriously, I think it's colder than Lake Superior).

Once I warmed back up and discussed the incident with the entire group of people hanging out near me (with laughter and some disgust from all of us!), I enjoyed a little more time in the sun and then went home.

I had such an enjoyable time at the beach that I decided to head back again today. Again, delightful and ended with a great trip one of the local markets.

And then I returned home.

To find a dead bird.

On my back porch.

Are you effing kidding me?! GROSS!

Seriously. Birds hate me.

And they are not making me a very big fan with these antics.

It's a toughy...

One of the things I love most about living in Seattle is the availability and low-cost of delicious fresh produce. I have recently been told that eastern Washington is sometimes referred to as the "fruitbasket"so that may have something to do with it. Or it might be my recent living experience in Arizona- where fruit never tasted as good as I remembered (or wanted it to). Somehow in a place where the sun shines ALL THE TIME, the fruit tasted old and crusty.

My palette has become discerning when it comes to fresh produce, probably like it was when I was growing up. You see, Michigan is filled with farms that produce an array of deliciousness.

When I was home a few weeks back, I was there just in time for strawberries and asparagus. YUMMY! I could not get enough of either item. I took 3 quarts of berries and 1 of cherries to the GR crew and we ate all of berries in two days. The berries tasted like dessert (even when they weren't part of a shortcake situation).

Well, upon returning to my home, I found locally grown berries at the market and was so stoked thinking they would be the same. Not so much. I mean they were fine, but the small container went bad before I even finished it. Bummer.

But at the same market, I found Yakima Cherries. (Yakima is in eastern WA and I actually know a few folks there.) For as disappointing as the strawberries were the cherries were amazing. I grew up eating cherries (Traverse City, MI is known for them), but these Yakima ones beat out any cherry I have ever eaten before. I ate cherries for two days (and almost nothing else). They were SO good.

In keeping with the M&M taste test, my conclusion on strawberries and cherries is that Michigan wins out in battle Strawberry and Washington wins in battle Cherry. I am happy to continue tasting abd see if these results remain consistent. ;)

Random thoughts...

Today, as I left the house to head to one of my last orthodontist appointments ever (!!!). (I am a little excited...rightfully so I think). Anyway, as I was driving with the windows down and the sunroof open with the bright blue sky and puffy clouds in my view, I started to think about freedom. Weird, I know.

But, what is it about driving with the wind blowing your hair and a favorite song on the radio that is so much fun? I mean, it really brings me delight.

It's the same feeling I get when I am riding my bike super fast (well, when I did ride a bike).

And the same feeling of being on a boat with the breeze.

Okay of those the boat wins out for the best since it does involve water and that's just happy. But, all three evoke this sense of child-like joy and I feel so free. Like everything is possible.

Good stuff.

Through the eyes of a child.

Turbulance.
Not a word air travelers enjoy hearing, but it is all part of the experience.
On my recent air flight, the pilot came on before we even took off and made an announcment similar to the following: "Hello Passengers. Please be prepared for the following 2 hours of your flight. Buckle up! Cause it's gonna be a doozie! If you feel the need, pray to the god of your choice and make amends. And remember flight attendants also need to remain seated so they won't fly into your laps or hit their heads on the ceiling. We'll do our best to make it less bumpy, but we're not miracle workers. Thanks for flying with us today. Hope to see you on the other side."

okay- so maybe this is slightly off and exaggerated for a little humos...but that is how it felt. And no one was freaking out more than the family behind me and the people next to me. Oh! and the old man in front of me. Ok- I am actually quite certain that entire plane was a little anxious. The flight attendants battened down the hatches and we were off! (Belted in, of course.)

We took off and got smoothly in flight. The ding! for electronics went off and still smooth sails. I plugged into my iPod and swiftly fell asleep (it was 7:45am and I hadn't slept well the night before). I slept soundly....that is until I literally woke up because I thought someone was shaking me awake. Nope, it was everyone shaking on the plane. The turbulance was SO bad that it actually woke me up from a deep slumber! Well, once awake there was no going back to sleep, so I was awake and aware of the bumps and dives. I couldn't read, so I listened to passengers around me. Now, while uncomfortable, I did not fear we wouldn't make it. I didn't worry that we wouldn't land. I wasn't fearful for my life, but others were. (drama...)

But then I heard a giggle. Not a sound usually paired with worry or panic.

The giggle; giggles, I should say, were coming from the girls behind me. They were first time flyers and were nervous from the start. But when the bumps and dives shook them and bonk'ed them together, they giggled. Not a nervous giggle, but a giggle filled with pure delight. They thought it was fun! One even said, "Daddy! I love airplanes! They're just like roller coasters only cozier!"
Only though the eyes of a child. :)

Yes! Michigan

Long, long ago (well in the eighties when I was growing up), Michigan's ad campaign was Yes! Michigan. And because my Aunt mugs worked in the government we got all kinds of cool buttons, bumper stickers and the like. As a kid, I just thought it was super fun to have all the schwag and put stickers on things (folders, my bike, my brother (!)). But now, as an adult, I get it. YES! Michigan.

There is no place like it. And I have been a fair amount of places.

From Detroit to Soo Saint Marie (yes that is an actual city), you can find incredible things to see and do.

I spent the better part of last week working from the southeast corner of the Mitten State *and I enjoyed scenic drives (in the city), some history, and yummy, yummy Meditterenean food.

Then I ventured to my happy place- Up North, Michigan. For anyone from the Mitten or surrounding states, you know what Up North means. It's cottages, open spaces, lake views, and lazy afternoons. It's fresh air, local yokels, and tourists. It's small town parades and firework displays. And for me- it's time with family just the way I remember it. Lounging on the beach, braving the chilly Lake Michigan temps, laughing, cocktailing (as I aged), and playing games.

As my dad pointed out the other day on the beach, I am old (31). (Which I must say makes him really old!) But even as an "old lady", I still love it. Maybe even more than I did as a kid. I can now appreciate the slow drive around Stern Park to "make sure the lake is still there", the daily trips to see the boat go out (huge car ferries), and the quiet.

I may call someplace else home, but this will always be my happy place.

**If you don't know, the state of Michigan is shaped like a mitten. That is why all people from here will hold up there and show you where they live when asked. It's all part of the charm, don't you think? ;)