Weird Zombie Apocalypse feeling

When Boyfriend Jon and i first started dating, we would play a small game. In only minor seriousness, we would compare our various survival skills and try to figure out how we would survive in the event of a zombie apocalypse. Even now, when we talk about skill building, we talk about it in terms of if it would be "useful" and by useful, we both know what we mean.

No we don't actually believe that there will be Resident Evil style zombies, but more that there will be a distinct lack of all the modern conveniences, and that people will become desperate for the most basic things.  We both worry that if there ever is an apocalypse, that the knowledge and skills of our ancestors will be entirely lost, and humanity will struggle to survive. We both want to be strong contenders IF this were ever to happen.

Boyfriend Jon is a boy scout, avid camper, and gets really animated when talking about movies, books or tv shows that discuss how people's "real world" skills would be pretty much useless if there was ever a disaster. (Like a mechanic would be more valuable than say a tax auditor).

I grew up with a scouting family. Both my parents have been scout masters, both brothers were scouts. My parents never saw the need to put me in Girl Scouts since i pretty much went wherever the boys did anyway. We started primitive camping when i was seven and i never regretted it. Where else in this day and age do you learn how to live for extended periods without any modern conveniences?

We both love learning new skills that could increase our chances of survival if the world comes crashing down. Jon learned how to knit. I learned how to skin an animal. Knot tying, cooking over open flames, weaponry, fire starting without matches, extended first aid....anything and everything that could keep us alive.

This last week, everyone has been hearing about Superstorm Hurricane Sandy and the artic blast that followed it. There have been several earthquakes up and down the pacific fault lines. Weathermen are predicting a harsh winter this year. We've already had a few small power outages.

All that got me thinking. What do i have ready if there's an emergency?

I'm honestly not the hypochondriac kind. I don't think the world is going to end, I don't think that disaster is right around the corner. But there's a difference between being paranoid and being prepared.

Since moving in with Boyfriend Jon, we have almost no emergency supplies stored. When the lights flickered last month. I got a little worried and went on a candle buying spree. I thought that would be enough.

It hovered in the back of my mind. That constant whisper of What if there was a disaster now? Then there was a large earthquake up at the Canadian border. Earthquakes trigger more earthquakes. Then Hurricane Sandy hit, and i heard horror stories of flooding, power outages for days, store shelves completely empty. Gas, water and food shortages. Then that sparked the worry about what happens if the electricity is out for days? No refrigeration, no cell phones, no internet to tell you what's going on.

Maybe i should learn how to create a generator out of car batteries and alternators. Or is it possible to learn how to build a real solar panel?

One thing led to another and it all finally centered on this thought which i haven't been able to shake.

YOU ARE NOT PREPARED FOR ANYTHING

When i should be thinking about work, i'm thinking about what to include and where to store emergency supplies in our apartment. When i should be thinking about driving, i'm going over how to winter camp without getting frost bite. When i should be writing for NaNo, i'm researching how to build energy devices.

I'm trying to not be crazy obsessed about this, but the more i think about it, the more worried i get. About six years ago, the area was without power for a week in the middle of winter. I was lucky to be living with my parents at that point. We had fires going, bundled up, and in general were just fine. But would i be fine now, living on my own with boyfriend Jon? Or would we be one of the hoards of people looting for the most basic supplies because we were caught unprepared?


I think, as much as we talk about being prepared, that we would be hurting for some basics in the event of a disaster if it were to happen today. So, call me paranoid, call me crazy, call me silly....but I think now would be an excellent time to get prepared for the basics.

Nano Time 2012

NaNoWriMo kicks off in just TWO DAYS!

This year, i'm really nervous.

1. I'm doing a NaNo no no by re-writing a previous nano. 
2. It's the same NaNo from last year which took several thousand words in which my characters revolted and i couldn't get them off the damn boat!
3. I'm running not one but two write ins which i often don't get a whole lot of work done during.

So this could be the first year i can't win. Or i could blow it all out of the water and have the most epic story on the face of the planet.
.......
more likely the former.

This will be my fifth year doing NaNo. It's hard to believe that four years ago, my buddy somehow talked me into doing this.

I remember thinking to myself, "self! you couldn't even write your Elixir story that you've been working on for 13 years. Why would this be any better?"

And yet the story that came out of that year was awesome. Reading through it even now, i still enjoy the story.

Last year's story, the idea was good and solid. It hasn't even changed that much. Just the premise and the order of things and small tweaks to my characters to make them more believable. Less of the majestic heros and the drop dead gorgeous heroine. More of realistic 20 somethings that have quirks, odd habits, and drive each other crazy.

I believed so much in this story from the beginning even after the 30,000 words on the stupid boat that i started a re-write back in February. I woke up one morning and just had to write a scene that i had dreamed about. 4,000 words later, i had two chapters, a new way of going about my story.

Over the course of the last year, I've talked through several points of my story with Boyfriend Jon and many many other friends. Slowly finding the reason for my story. Finding new characters that belong in my world. New ways to seed foreshadowing, and themes. Very quickly, everything falls into place. I should be excited, and exuberant, and enthusiastic. But instead, i'm just nervous.

What if i get caught up in all the problems that held me back last year? Like the fact that i don't really know much about pre WW2 fasion, society, landmarks, culture, and just the history of WW2 in general. What happens if all these new ideas run me into corners? What happens if for the first time i fail NaNoWriMo?

Returning from Hawaii - New Workout

I had an amazing time in Hawaii.

First and foremost, i was with Boyfriend Jon. He is my ideal travel companion, he's been there several times so he had awesome suggestions, he understood the language/pronunciation and he looks hot in nothing but swim trunks. So of course we had an amazing time

Second...we went to HAWAII. A paradise on earth, where we left the touristy towns and found quiet beaches where we could almost fall asleep to the sounds of crashing waves. Someday, i would love to camp out on the beaches there. I wore sarongs, smelled like sunscreen, and snorkeled with fish. We saw so many amazing things that no picture i could post would do it justice. But i'll do some anyway :)

Our first sunrise in Hawaii because we were still 3 hours ahead

Makapu'u Point

Waimanalo Beach. Which became our favorite. This was the most crowded it got.

Somewhere on West Shore where we stopped for a picknick

North Shore. Wrong season for really big waves, but still really big for me

Polynesian Cultural Center had the most amazing performance

...

...

...

Jealous yet?

Things i would do differently:

• Not get horribly sunburned halfway through. Sunscreen is no joke down near the equator. And neither is proper application technique including re-application after swimming. Poor Jon found out just how Seattlites put on sunscreen (yes he had pants on).

• Not get a hotel in Honolulu. I couldn't care less about the Waikiki beach. Sure it's famous and that's why EVERYONE goes there. But a half hour away is half a dozen beaches where we could swim and the nearest people were 50 feet away. It was so much more relaxing and fun. 
• Not get a gigantic luxury rental car. The push start and back up cameras were cool, but we nicknamed it "The Boat" for a reason. We would much rather have had a zippy little compact.

Things i would LOVE to do more of:

• Simply hanging out at the beach. Now that i know what a real sandy beach feels like, i would love to just go spend a few extra days letting my toes really get to know the sand. Plus after he bought his third Ukelele, Boyfriend Jon serenaded me on the beach. What girl can resist that???
• Two words: Hanauma Bay. Once i finally got my snorkle equiptment to work properly....that was by far the highlight of the trip. I wish i had bought an underwater digital camera for it too. We're currently waiting for our disposable to come back with our fingers crossed that the pictures turn out ok. 
• To spend more time at the Polynesian cultural center, this time participating in the learning opportunities instead of going from show to show. 
• The Aloha Stadium Swap Meet was great for all the trinkets and supplies. Our apartment looks like it had a minor hawaii explosion. 

I had an amazing time and I'm already pestering Boyfriend Jon to take me back. 

But while there, sufficient to say i had a turning point in my head while in Hawaii. I really need to do something about my weight. It's not even optional anymore. And I gave myself a week after i got back to start a workout routine. I was finally ready to make some huge changes to my life. 

1. First thing to go was eating out. Partially this was because my credit card bill from Hawaii almost gave me a heart attack. So i picked up the cooking at home again. I ate out twice in two weeks.
2. Second thing to change, was a commitment to eating vegetables with every meal. At least half of what i consumed needed to be veggies. Boyfriend Jon also got on board for this which just made all the difference a few of the days. 
3. Third thing was to start working out 3 times a week. My buddy Colin has been doing weightlifting and so i picked his brain for a while. Then jumped into working out. I was extremely displeased that i couldn't do more than one pushup when i used to be able to do 20. So that helped solidify that i'm going to be sticking with this until i'm not so awfully weak!

The first week of working out was BRUTAL! The first couple of days i couldn't move without groaning, and i felt shaky picking up even my laptop. I told Colin i hated him for getting me into this and he put me in touch with a woman who has been exactly where i am now and is now a size 4. Between the two of them, Boyfriend Jon's support and some determination on my part, i'm starting to see that i can do this. 

Esteem turmoil and Hawaii

I am a curvy girl. This has come with a lot of stigma, pretty much all of it painful and depressing. Sufficient to say, I grew up bigger in general, have always had issues with my weight and have spent lots of time agonizing over it.

A little while ago, I posted about my Great Aunt Claire. She was first to get me to see around the insults and look at it from another perspective. Which since i was a burly kid...usually meant pointing out that i could beat the crap out of them then sit on them and they wouldn't be able to do a thing about it. (apparently i had too many arguments against the old sticks and stones mantra).

So like all women of any size, i have good days and bad days.

I'm convinced my inner goddess
is played by Christina Hendricks

Most days, i am one heckova sultry vixen. I have a walk that naturally sashays and gorgeous chocolate hair, eyes that can change color, and i rarely get pimples. I know many women that would die for natrually clear skin that rarely blemishes. My inner voice defiantly tells anyone who looks down their nose at me - "This is the body i have, love it or hate it, it's me." And it's not like i'm anywhere near record size. Just a size 20 and a DD cup. Oh yeah, and my cholesterol makes my doctor really happy. Really, it's not that bad and Boyfriend Jon loves me unconditionally.

Then there's days when my insecurities get the best of me. Like a stone sinking in my stomach for every single stretch mark and jiggle. Jealousy for romantic scenes in movies where the guy effortlessly sweeps a girl off her feet. Terror when seeing someone pull out a camera that i have to clamp down on and smile through.

Or worrying about wearing a bathing suit in Hawaii.

Yup. I'm going to Hawaii! In a week! With my best friend and lover and favorite travel companion; Boyfriend Jon. It's our first real vacation where we're not meeting up with family. And i'm excitedly counting down the days. We even made a rip off calendar that is right next to the door and we rip off each new day together. How cheesy is that?? :)

I want to go. I've been wanting to go for over a decade. I know, with out a doubt that this is going to be an amazing trip. Also....there's an extremely good chance that when we get off the plane i'm going to revert to a four year old and be bouncing off the walls.

But talking with other (thin) women about tips for going to tropical locations....has the insecurities rearing their ugly heads again. Bikini waxing presents all sorts of challenges that skinny girls don't have to face. Spray tanning... i actually laughed at the size zero girl who told me to stand like this, then like this...be cause there's no way the spray would get into all the crevices. Some of the positions i get into remind me of human tetris!

And...there's more to it than just the suit.
There's the pasty white skin from never wearing anything shorter than capris
There's extra curves, stretch marks, cellulite...
There's memories of taunting calls of cankles (which i most assuredly do NOT have), thunder thighs, whale, and most recently "fat lady" (thank you children across the balcony who don't realize that screens aren't soundproof)

Boyfriend Jon has been wonderful (really ladies...i got hit the boyfriend jackpot with this guy), reassuring me every time i go into bathing suit panic mode, that there will be ample people of plus size around on the beaches...and that they will have clothes in my size. Probably more so than i can find here in Washington.

THEN
I went from feeling completely insecure to the opposite end of the spectrum.

My first crush, who became a long time friend admitted that he'd crushed on me for most of our teenage years. Say what???? Daydreams of him were constant for over a decade. But I thought given his complete inaction that he wasn't remotely attracted to me. Turns out, that i couldn't have been more wrong. The teenager still inside of me has thrown her hat down and started stomping on it. Why? Why now? Why didn't you tell me these things when something could have been done about them?

But that ship sailed long ago. Those daydreams laid to rest. That crush is just a friend on the other side of the world who i can talk about guns with. I care about him and want good things for him. But that's it.

I've been reminding that teenager part of my brain, that my relationship with Boyfriend Jon was a delicate balance of things falling into place at exactly the right moment. Change a single thing, and maybe i would never be with Mister Boyfriend Jackpot. So why dream about what could have been when what is, is perfect?

So what do you do when you swing from insanely happy, horribly insecure, never good enough, to a source of regret because you were more than good enough, to embarrassed, to conflicted, to excited beyond all reason, and back around again? I love roller coasters, but i want to get off this one!

I'm getting to the point where a good hearty emotion filled cry might just actually solve this crazy web of my feelings.

Learning to live with an Introvert

Boyfriend Jon and I have been living together for five months now. And along with all the normal arguments compromise that goes along with combining resources, tasks, and responsibilities...it's also been a huge learning experience. For me especially, learning to live with an introvert has been a near constant crash course trying to understand what, when and how much the other person needs.

Why didn't I know this coming in to the living-together situation?

Well, I knew he was happy staying at home, and that when he got involved in a project, it went so far as to exclude all else for long periods of time. I've also never in my life lived with an introvert. There is no such thing in my family, though my mom claims to be one. She goes for long long drives by herself, but usually, it's to go see someone. My dad, rarely goes to the grocery store without someone to keep him company and my siblings take up the spectrum in between.

Overall, i guess i fit into the Extrovert category. I somewhat straddle the line, though. While i love having someone there even though i'm not talking to them, i also don't like people getting into my bubble without permission. Empty house means i'm going to turn on the TV just to have the placebo effect of a human voice.

What i didn't know was that The Introversion Flag could pop up at any time, occasionally conflicting with my extrovert needs to have company, interaction, and socialization.

But I've watched him, seen the physical exhaustion that comes after parties, the strain after long periods where he can't work on his projects, and the outright despondence when we've been going going going, for a long time.

He's a strong man; I wouldn't be with him if he wasn't strong enough to support my own weaknesses. And often i wonder at his patience with my constant whirlwind of plans, projects and bouncing from idea to idea in a single conversation as i try to clear out my head for bedtime.

Out of everything we've been through for almost 3 years, this has been the toughest part for me to learn: Boyfriend Jon is an introvert and has different mental needs than i do. But, I honestly don't know what i'd do without my Infuriating Introvert.

Occasionally, in trying to help me understand, he sends me articles, comics, or a few emails that better explain Introversion. The following was one of the most adorable depictions I've ever seen and i had to share it.

My Great-Aunt Claire

Aunt Claire & Uncle Buddy

I have no idea why, but these last several days, my mind has turned frequently to memories of Aunt Claire. I find myself missing her so much. I wish that i could once again be a little girl, and climb up into her lap and tell her all the problems of my small little world. And that she would hug me tight tell me not to worry, then suggest some tidbit of wisdom that would snap everything into perspective and then everything would indeed be all right. And if it wasn't, well, suddenly her crossword puzzle would become too difficult for her and only i would be able to help.

My Great-Aunt Claire was many things to me. She was my grandmother's unmarried sister, my father's aunt, my summertime house guest, my playmate, my enthusiastic audience, my source of infinate wisdom, and role model for how i wanted to live my life.

To look at her, she would make a doctor, fashionista, and hair stylist all cringe. Her hair was dark brown, almost black (and later grey) and she never dyed it. She kept it cropped boyishly close. She wore thick 80s glasses that gave her bug eyes. She was very overweight, so she wore muumuus usually in garish colors like orange, fuchsia, and brown. Beneath them, she wore knee high nylons to hide her varicose veins and what i can only describe as grandma shoes. Her arms had arm fat hanging from them almost 10 inches long and she never work makeup. She was no delicate flower. Not with her brisk and no nonsense attitude.

G-Aunt Claire, Grandma Anne, Aunt Eileen, Uncle Paul

But I loved her fiercely and i would never change a single hair on her head. If i had eons to sit here and tell you about her, i could never come close to truly describing the woman who shaped my growing years in ways that i can't even pick apart until i catch someone staring at me when i'm ranting in "Aunt-Claire-ian" terms. Her enthusiasm for life always amazed me.

Behind those thick glasses were mischievous and sparkling with a hundred unspoken jokes. Her arm blubber was an endless source of entertainment and she never ever felt shamed about it. She wore the muumuus because they were exceedingly comfortable, not giving a damn about fashion. I learned how to count because she would have me count out her pills in her weekly pill reminder case. She made up words collected from Italian, Ukrainian, Yiddish, and Tarzan (no i'm not kidding, she loved Tarzan's language of the beasts and used several phrases on us children) She knew how to improvise just about everything from card game rules, which spontaneously changed mid-game, to the left hand while playing piano.

Aunt Claire, my brother Michael, Grandma, Me, Dad, Mom,
Grandma T and my brother Johnny

And she would sing. Off key, tuneless, and able to be heard through the whole house. That's how i knew everything was right in the world, when Aunt Claire was singing or shuffling her feet in a silly little dance.

When everything was not all right, the whole neighborhood heard about it. Her and my grandmother would get into screaming matches over who had more cookies at tea time or if Perry Mason or Columbo was a better show, which generally ended up with them screaming at each other in Ukrainian about fifty or more past arguments. But so help you if you jumped into the argument, they would both turn on you like savage dogs, defending the other for the very thing they had been yelling about seconds before.

She died just before i graduated, on May 21, 2005 at 84 years old. I very badly wanted to go but with school coming to a close and the trip to the other side of the continent, we held our own memorial at home in the form of an UNO card game marathon proclaiming PURPLE PEOPLE EATERS, and YELLOW CANARIES and TAKE 2 when dropping a regular 2 card and the infamous ACCORDING TO HOY-LEE proclamations. It was my aunts favorite game even though she would cheat against us children. So many of my memories revolve around a deck of well worn Uno cards.

Uncle nick, Michael, Random person,
Me, Margaret, Johnny, Noreen,
and Aunt Claire, clearly plotting some uno scheme

I found recently that my upper arms are starting to develop a little droop when i hold them up. I began to freak out. I loved my aunt and admire every detail about her, including her complete disregard for mainstream beauty. But at 25, i'm not ready to have her arms, I hate dresses in general, i love my long hair, and well, just...damnit i'm to young to have blubber arms!

Part of me has always wanted to be like her. Until Boyfriend Jon came along, it wasn't entirely unexpected (by myself and my family) that i would become the unmarried caregiver in this generation of our family since it seems there's always one or two. I wanted to be the one whom all the kids gathered, so i could pass on my unconventional wisdom that comes from not being a typical woman. To show them that its not really necessary to live according to main stream, to have the latest media and toys to entertain yourself, and mostly that life is a wondrous thing and we should enjoy it.

It's my philosophy in life even now; not conforming, doesn't necessarily mean you can't be happy doing it. I wish now that i had asked my aunt why she never married. There's so many things i wish i could talk with her about. I regret that in the last few years of her life, she was barely even a shadow of the incredible dynamic woman i grew up with. Dementia saw to that. And that even as a teenager, i didn't make time to talk with her on the phone. Mostly i regret that my future children will never know her.

Some day, the Uno cards will come out, and i'll teach them about purple people eaters, Hoy-Lee, dig a little deeper, let me call you sweetheart, scosheeboshee and Ungawa Nichcha (most of those are aunt clarian terms that still float around our family). Who knows what's in the cards for me. I could still turn out to be very much like her.

But the blubber arms have to go.

Post Redwoods

So we're back. From five glorious days (more like three full days and two partial days cause we were driving) in the Redwood forests of California.

First off, I had a blast. Boyfriend Jon's family was fun, the Redwoods were breathtaking and we didn't have a repeat of Deception Pass Tent Floods. So I'd say this was a first class camping trip.

We played a variety of board games, made fires, roasted smores, told stories, chased the kids around, cooked, hushed the dogs, did some hair braiding, and most importantly, relaxed.

Our drive down was beautiful. In the past we'd listened to audio books from the Ender series. This time it was to be Xenocide. However, the quality of the audio was so poor we quickly turned it off. The drive, while beautiful, seemed longer as we pulled into the campsite after dark despite having left at 6:30am. It wasn't until the drive home that we realized Google Maps LIED. There is no way we could possibly have done the trip in 11 hours. Even with minimal stops it still took us over 15. I'm convinced that most of this is due to the fog and twisty windy turns where there's no way to go the speed limit. So now we know for future reference that we need to leave earlier and plan on at least 15 hours.

The Redwoods. Just wow. I can't get over how big some of the "small" ones were. We climbed up over 20 feet into the air on one of the felled trees. And i spent most of a long walk in the woods with Boyfriend Jon's family thinking about how they filmed Star Wars Return of the Jedi amid tangled roots and thick underbrush.

Things i learned about the redwoods:

• Often, the trees grow from not from seeds, but from sprouts off of the stump. And they form living cathedrals in a perfect circle around the original stump.
• The reason they survive so well is the fog i mentioned before...comes in off the coast and absorbs high up, so they don't have to move the water all the way up from the ground.
• Physics says it's impossible for a tree to grow over 450 feet
• The tallest tree is 379 feet tall. Only slightly less than the height of the Great Pyramid as it stands today.
• The Redwood Forests that we have left is only about 10 percent of what was once there. Most of it was brutally cut down. 
• There was violent protests to stop this all the way up into my own lifetime when they finally got the picture that clear cutting was a bad idea during Redwood Summer in 1990.
• Now they've learned more responsible ways to grow and harvest Redwood lumber. 

And personally, i can attest to the constant moisture. We had full sun most of the time we were there, but our sleeping bags were constantly damp, and there was a massive humidity. 

We're off to see the Redwoods

I've only have a brief encounter with the California redwoods aside from dreaming about racing a speeder through them. They were easily the biggest trees I've ever seen. That includes the cross cut on display near my first house in Tacoma. Which was huge when i was a toddler, but even i know that cross cut is dwarfed by some of the "small" redwoods that i saw when i first went to California.

That was my first time being able to drive through a tree. Even though our rental car was small, it was such a big novelty.

Now, we're off for another road trip to California. This time it will be 11 hours instead of 14. Not too much of a difference, but a bit more manageable. It will give us a little breathing room on our drive. But it's going to land us smack dab in the "Avenue of the Giants" so these will be really really big redwoods. That's going to be exciting.

Why are we going?

To meet up with Jon's family for a camping trip near a river. It's the first camping trip we've been able to organize all year because I've been obsessed with unpacking we've been too busy setting up the apartment to be home.

I love camping. My first camping trip was when i was 7 and i still remember a lot about it. Incidentally it was my first rendezvous, but that's a story for another time. We met up with my dad's brother and his family. We were prepared fairly well to camp in general since my parents had been boy/girl scout leaders for 20 years so we had enough gear. But we were not prepared for a thunder and lightning storm. That was the one and only time that i remember my mother joining us on a camping trip. After that, it became a bonding experience with just my dad. I went camping with him several times a year until i was 18.

Looking back, i realize that those campsites had only the most basic of amenities. Port-a-potties. But at the time, i thought they were awesome. Catching lizards in the rocks. Walking into the woods to get firewood, playing in the woods with my cousins. There was limited supervision....and by that i mean everyone in the entire campground knew who's kids belonged to who and they'd just a soon give us cookies and let us play in their camp as smack us when we got out of line. I walked other people's dogs, helped with dishes, ran errands and messages across camp. And for some reason, i remember it being fun. It's amazing that so many people come together and can form a brand new village mentality for just a weekend.

Personally a fan of log cabin/pyramid

It was here that i learned how to make and use char cloth, flint and steel, build fires, learn knots, cook over an open fire, keep a fire going through the night, as well as what rock lizards taste like cooked (they're edible, that's all i'll say) which was probably one of the more stupid things we did.

Now i'm going to state campgrounds. And I laugh that they have running water and hot showers. So this is how normal people camp? I thought we had everything we needed when we had port-a-potties. Sure we'd come home and have to do rock paper scissors to see who got the first shower, but I don't remember every turning down a camping trip because of that.

Regardless, i'm excited to go. I have a urge to test some survival skills i haven't had to make yet. I'm going to try to make a fire with sticks. And also i get to hang out with Jon's dynamic and interesting family.

Comparing my E-book Readers: Kindle 3G vs Nook Simple Touch with Glowlight

About a....well a while ago...i had the opportunity to play with a Kindle 3G for a "few months". A few months obviously turned into over a year.

Originally, i was supposed to only have it in order to learn how it works and then use what i learned to train my mom/sister. Except she didn't ask for it back, didn't think about it. I kept telling her, if you want it back i'll give it to you and she just kept saying "oh no no. You keep borrowing it. You're enjoying it."

Well, not to long ago, i was reminded that it wasn't actually mine. And mom started hinting about how nice it would be given her shoulder surgery to not have to try and lift heavy books. So i started researching to get my own e-book reading device. Cause once you go ebook, regular books just seem cumbersome and unappealing.

So i started looking around, playing with the available models whenever i saw them on display, and comparing them back and forth. 

Things i loved about the Kindle

• E-ink, ebooks, storage capacity, were all new to me so i loved them
• The ability to download straight from a store (as well as not directly from the store)
• Insane battery life for a month!
• The ability to read multiple books at once and have my spot saved in each of them
• Font and size changing options, orientation options

Things i didn't like about the Kindle

• The keyboard was useless for me and ended up being more trouble than it was worth. 
• The buttons on the side....That's where you're most likely to pick it up so who thought of putting the buttons there?! You're dumb.
• The creepy obnoxious screen savers. (I ended up having to hack the silly thing to get my own pictures on there. Amazon, that was one STUPID choice...can't you tell from 99% of all media devices from phones to laptop covers that people love to customize their wallpapers?)
• The list only format. I'm a visual person, and cover art is mostly how i remember books. So i would have loved an alternate view. 
• No built in light. I loved my DIY cover, but all the light options were very annoying and clunky, OR i would have to pay 50$ to get one that was reasonable. Either way, no. So i developed what Boyfriend Jon joking refers to as my "various reading light options".

I'm sure there were other things, but I got used to using the Kindle. It was my friend. But to be honest, i had little to no brand loyalty. I was just enjoying being able to carry many books at once anywhere to read almost anytime.

That is...until my new 

Nook Simple Touch with GLOWLIGHT! 

I can't believe it took this long for these competing companies to come up with a built in light. I don't know about the rest of the world, but most of my reading takes place just before i go to sleep. 

So i got not only every thing that i love about the Kindle....but each of the things i didn't like above...were taken care of by the Nook development team. Congrats to you guys for building a Ebook device that appeals to more than one kind of reader. 

I now have

• A touch screen with touch and swipe page turns (no keyboard or directional needed)
• One button for home, and just needs to be held down to turn on the glowlight.
• Cover Art thumbnail lists (or just lists if i wanted)
• Screen saver folders that don't need to be hacked in order to upload my pictures, and it's easy to turn off theirs.
• Built in wireless
• An awesome invention of the Glowlight...which i expect will become an industry standard very soon. 
• it's also great that they didn't have to sacrifice the battery life too much in order to achieve this technology. I should still get about a months worth of battery even if all i did was read at night.
• An online bookstore that's equal to Amazon's for the normal reader. 

This is a great device. And while it wasn't free...the 139 price tag was well worth it. Considering i would have paid that additional money to get one of those covers with a built in light....yeah, definetly worth the money in my opinion. 

Again, i don't have a strict adherence to brand loyalty, but rather go for the best fit for me. 

I read mostly at night, normal novels, not comics or articles, and i take these camping with me away from outlets. I didn't want a tablet...i have a perfectly good computer for that, and i have no intention of writing a report on this device. 

So for ME, the Nook was a much better choice. And the Kindle will find a happy home with my mother, i'm sure. 

And i can make the Halo over-shield sound effect every time i turn the glowlight on now. Cause i'm a dork like that. :)

Back after a month

There hasn't been too much going on in my life the last month or so. Just more of the same. Boyfriend Jon and i have been steadily working to unpack the remainder of our apartment. There's less and less of the "oh crap, what box is that in?" and "I think I unpacked it, but i have no idea where i put it".

With the installation of floating shelves for all of our books (all the friends are raving about it as a brilliant idea...we just did it because we had a vent in the way that we couldn't put a bookshelf in front of), our house instantly looked more homey and less apartment-y. We're working on projects pretty much non stop for the improvement of the apartment. Everything from painting to sewing, building, organizing, to cleaning, decorating and arranging.

The media stand is finally finished, in all it's resplendent glory. From a drawing to a creation. i'm very proud of this one, despite learning a some different techniques than i had originally planned due to some mistakes.

Also, i decided to take my multi canvas painting and paint over it in greens and silvers. Next i'll paint branches in a variety of browns, then affix flowers made from printed paper to the canvas. This project will eventually adorn the wall above our bed.

So basically in the apartment department, we're down to decorating and learning how to not throttle each other. Some days its harder than others, but for the most part I love having Boyfriend Jon around even if he does tease me about my newfound Pinterest addiction.

One such Pinterest teasing moment came from finding a post about a DIY Popcorn Station. Where guests can create a popcorn concoction to their personal liking with a variety of shakers like ranch, cheddar, and cinnamon sugar. So my thought process went: ooo! cool pinterest post, must do this, i need to have a party where i can do this! throw a party where i can do this. Overall my friends thought it was great. Needs a little bit of refinement and it will be perfect.

Other bits of news.

Celebrated another Friday the 13th with the wonderful Boyfriend Jon. Since we got together on a Friday the 13th, it's been a special day for us ever since.

How it was supposed to go

At least until I got involved in a hit and run on the way to our special romantic dinner. There was minimal damage and no injuries thankfully. But it did lead to a harrowing race after the jerk, and catching up to him twice. Boyfriend Jon got out of the car and the guy took off again so i followed him leaving Boyfriend Jon standing in the middle of an intersection. He led me on a chase through an apartment complex and somehow i managed to get his licence plate number to the dispatcher. Eventually the police caught up with the guy and raked him over the coals for leaving the scene of an accident but apparently i'm terrifying when I'm angry and he was scared of me. 
When the police finally got me in touch with him, I told both him and the officers that HAD he stopped and done the right thing, there was so little damage that i probably would have told the guy no problem, here let me fix your licence plate for you. In the end he apologized and i told him "no offense, but we never bump into each other again." and that was that.

The day after the accident, I got into it with another major jerk. I did some voluenteer work for the city television crew during a parade. I was doing my job when i realized that someone was touching me. I stepped back from my view finder to realize that a guy with a camera was practically on top of me very much in my personal bubble. I asked him to move nicely, stating that i needed to be able to move in my zone. He told me screw you. Oh no no no. I'm no meek little thing that will tolerate being spoken to in such a way. So i got in his way, and told him firmly to back up, this area had been reserved and i pointed out the construction cones that were in place for just such a reason. He didn't move. So i got even closer...just about drill sargent close and yelled for him to back up. I then stepped into him and used my body to back him up. People from the crowd behind him were trying to pull him back and he was not having anything of it even if he didn't seem too inclined to take me on. My boss managed to catch what was happening and asked his superior to go and step in. Eventually the guy was reloated and i was able to get back to my job. I think if my boss hadn't been tied up in wires, the man would have gotten decked.

So it's nice to get back to work where while people here may be annoying, at least they're not that big of jerks.

Crash Course in Fixing a Lava Lamp

At work, I have a co-worker that's a garage-sale-aholic. She had this lava lamp on her desk that she rescued after being shaken, but it had started turning itself off and she had to bang it to get it to work again. Finally it turned off all together. We were talking, because she had another and I told her I should really get one for my cube, she pointed to the broken one and said "if you can fix it, you can have it." 

So I accepted the challenge. I took the lava lamp back to my desk and on my lunch hour I started messing with it. I found that if i pressed on the bottom, the light would turn back on. So i pulled off the felt and found a bolt, which i then tightened and voila! the lava lamp worked again. The fix took about two minutes total. 

I went over to her and told her i fixed it. This was met with a chorus of NUH UH!s from the group that had been contemplating the broken lava lamp for months. But even though i offered the lava lamp back (It's very pretty, yellow wax with purple water, makes the wax red when it gets towards the top oddly enough), she said i should keep it since we had a bargin. So i had a lava lamp at my desk, much to my enjoyment.

After about a week, I started noticing that the lava lamp would periodically turn off and back on after about a minute. Pretty soon, I was tapping the base, just like she had described. So i took the felt off again and tried to tighten the bolt again, only this time, the whole thing turned off completely and wouldn't turn back on. Whoops. 

Since i wasn't about to give up on this lava lamp, I tried to get inside. When you took out the bulb, there was a golf ball sized hole where you could see the porcelain socket. But the bottom had a steel plate with a hole the size of an eraser head with the bolt coming through and that was it. The base was not designed to come apart. Probably smart on the part of the manufacturer, but very annoying for me. So armed with a needle nose pliers, a small screw driver, a flat staple remover, an unbent paper clip, and a surgical style clamp (like they use in surgery) I began the very tricky task of fixing the lava lamp base.

Once i unscrewed the bolt in the bottom, the socket fell loose and rolled around inside. It was then that i could see that one of the wires had popped completely off the socket. So that was the problem. Ok, I knew how to re-wire a lamp. Somehow, through this golf ball sized hole, i would have to manipulate the socket, screw, and wire all back into their proper places.

It was far from easy. Took me a full lunch hour and a break, significant muttering under my breath, and getting VERY creative with some angles and my tools. The wire wouldn't slide into the base any further, so i had to work inside the tiny cone. Finally,  the wire was looped back around the screw and re-tightened. I put the socket back into place, tightened the bolt, and put the bulb back in. 

The moment of truth, i spun the switch and....nothing. I couldn't understand it. It was still broken! The configuration wasn't that complex, two screws, two wires, and a bolt. After more fiddling after work, the stupid thing still wouldn't work. So i went home for the night. 

It bothered me, as i laid in bed. I thought about how to fix the lava lamp. I knew that the lamps were only about 20$ and this really wasn't worth the effort. But now it was personal. I was going to fix it. 

So as i went about my morning routine and the routine at work, it continued to infest my mind. If i had been smart, i would have put it out of sight, but i had left it in my line of vision where it normally stood. So on my first break, i started fiddling with it again. Checked the bolt, checked the switch, checked the wires, checked that the bulb wasn't burnt out. 

By all reasoning, the lamp should have worked! Maybe the wire was bad, so i followed it, all the way down to the power strip where it was plugged in. 

Inspecting this led to a revelation. The on light on the power strip wasn't on. It couldn't be that easy could it? A short? I flipped it off and back on. No change. I switched the plug to the other one in the pair; still nothing. Finally i moved it over to the other plug i KNEW worked. The power strip lit up, and as i peeked over the edge of my desk and was blinded by the base since it was facing me with the bulb in it. 

Shortly there after, i had re-assembled my pretty lava lamp and the whole thing worked fabulously. My lava lamp is fixed. And with any luck...will stay that way for a change. 

I'm thinking about changing its name from Trippy the Lava Lamp to something a little less polite.

 

Memorial for Shirley

I feel like every time I go to Boyfriend Jon's hometown, it's as detailed as an adventure story. There's so much to do, so much to see, so many stories to be told. I meet roughly 75-100 people each time, maybe a 1/3 of which I've seen before but can't for the life of me remember from where or when.

It doesn't matter; they always seem to remember me as they throw their arms around me and kiss my cheek. None of the 'keep the waists away' kind of hugs. Nope, it's a full body gleeful hug where even our toes bump into each other.

My personal bubble of space can't exist. They clearly don't see it, and they're so genuinely warm and welcoming, that i know that the concept of a personal bubble is completely alien to them. So although i'm overwhelmed, confused, and not sure why this older man whom I've never met is kissing me on the cheek (which is normally grounds for a broken nose in my book), I smile as warmly as i can, and go with it.

Many of them I'm certain they have never set eyes on me before, but they pick me out of the crowd and make a beeline for me. Then they ask about my life, complement me on how pretty i am, and tell Boyfriend Jon that he needs to hold on to this one...she's so perfect for you, you look so good together, so happy.

They put their arms around me and steer me to other people that i need to meet, until my head spins with the sea of faces i'm desperately trying to remember. More hugs, more kisses, have you eaten? when are you two going to settle down? How much is your apartment? How is your mother and father? Does it ever stop raining in Seattle? Pick the toddler nephews up, then immediately put him down, then back up again....and quickly back down after he tells me "i'm pooping right now".

This last weekend, we drove 800 miles each way to be present for the funeral of Boyfriend Jon's grandmother Shirley. I expected such a different scenario than i witnessed. People dressed in everything from full suits, to matching hawaiian shirts, jeans and hoochie-mama makeup. But no one cared about the clothes. They were all there to support each other as they shed tears and remembered Shirley Jones.

Each eulogy showed a different side of her. How she welcomed everyone into her life in such a way that they couldn't help respect and be in awe of her. How even hooligans and trouble makers, referred to her as Mama and wouldn't hesitate to cut her grass if she asked (and sometimes even if she didn't). How she understood that children will be children and how seemingly trivial moments would stay with them forever. How much her culture was important to be passed on. How her family meant EVERYTHING to her.

It wasn't so much a gathering of grieving family as friends as it was a testament that she was an amazing lady and how happy they all were that they had the privilege to know her. Although the tears were flowing freely, there was a release at the end that i don't remember ever feeling at any previous funeral i had ever attended. It was like a great balloon filled with grief suddenly popped and it all dissipated within seconds of the final song. Then the family stood at the front and were hugged by a long line of friends and family. There was food, there was more singing, there was a beautiful hula done by Jon's mother, then there was cleanup, then we went home.

The grief was still there, overlaid by everyday life. We jumped into the pool, swam around with the nephews, threw balls for the dogs, ate pizza, played video games. Then very early the next morning, we made the 800 mile drive home.

I know Boyfriend Jon and his family will never in a million years forget her, but the funeral was a perfect cathartic release. And now, life will move forward for everyone.

Sewing, Road Trip and a funeral

The funeral for Boyfriend Jon's grandmother has been set. So we figured out the best way to get down to California was to drive. It's at least 200$ cheaper than flying since there will be two of us anyway. It's going to be a quick trip; get up early, drive all day, collapse, wake up, funeral, spend some time with the family, collapse, wake up early, drive all day, collapse.

But i learned some things about Hawaiian culture that i found really interesting. They don't wear black to funerals (they will at this one since it's being held in a church but the memorial will be more traditional) but traditionally they wear white and bright colors. This is because it's less about mourning their death and more about celebrating the life of the deceased. Although i didn't know her very long, that seems perfectly appropriate for her. It completely fits in my opinion.

So when Boyfriend Jon first asked me to go with him, i had to take a long hard think about my closet contents. I have a great LBD that he loves seeing me in, and a couple colorful sundresses and a bright maxi dress that needs alterations. Also, he told me it was going to be about 80-90 degrees while we're there (yikes!). Last time i visited, his family was wearing winter sweaters in 60 degree heat while i was thinking "break out the tank tops". I'm going to roast especially if i wear black. So

Which means it's time to break out the sewing machine! And that i have to learn how to use a double needle. One of the more unexpected gifts i've gotten from my mom (there's been a few that i wondered about but have come in exceedingly handy) was a Viking sewing machine. So i'm going to put that to good use tonight and in the next week to alter my maxi dress into a sundress with straps, fix a couple article of clothes that need repair, and in general have fun.

This will be my first time working with a double needle (aka Twin needle). I'll let you know how it goes. Could be a complete disaster.

Solo flight

Last Monday feels like a month ago. So much has happened.

Most notably was the phone call i got at noon on Monday from Boyfriend Jon.

His grandmother who hasn't been doing well for a while, took an abrupt turn for the worse. Within five hours, Boyfriend Jon was on a plane headed for his hometown. He let me know that he had landed, and when he arrived at his parents house, but obviously there was a lot more going on, and he wasn't able to communicate with me.

We talked infrequently and briefly. But i did hear a lot in that short amount of time. Jon's family, both by blood and not circled the wagons around his grandma during her final days. They surrounded her with stories, played Hawaiian music for her (she's Hawaiian), called those people that couldn't make the trip, and said their goodbyes. It seemed more like a joyous celebration of her life than an anguish filled gathering mourning her.

I was only able to meet her once, and she was recovering from something and staying with Jon's family while i visited. She seemed very imposing, and i was nervous about meeting her. Some of her facial expressions left me wondering if i had done or said something wrong but after a while i realized she was just thinking. Once i got over my initial trepidation, i realized she was a warm and had a great sense of humor. She was just happy being with her family and having the Food Network on 24/7. There were points when i was talking with her that i could see her eyes twinkle and a small part of her younger and more lively self showed through. I wish i had been able to know her as Boyfriend Jon knew her, but at least i got to hear her side of the stories about him as a kid. That was highly entertaining. I was so glad to have met her and talk with her and i know her approval of me made Boyfriend Jon very happy.

She died with family by her side on Wednesday. The funeral won't be for a couple weeks when they can get everything arranged. Boyfriend Jon and I will be making the 14 hour drive south to California for the funeral, then turning around and coming right back home.

Boyfriend Jon came home to me on Friday night While he had been gone, i was hardly inactive. I started cutting the wood for the media stand i intend to build. I put the shelves that had been in my pantry at my last place in the outdoor storage area so that we could make better use of the space in order to store our camping gear and other miscellaneous stuff. I hung out with my sister, and much to his surprise, i cleaned the entire house including re-folding all my clothes so they sat in the shelves better. I even managed to fix the vacuum which was smoking and making a really bad smell. I think that took a load off his shoulders when he came in because he just looked at me all blissful and said, very clearly relieved,...."you cleaned".

We missed each other a lot though. Saturday, he treated me to a date day complete with breakfast, a movie and dinner, then we curled up and watched Lady and the Tramp, a movie neither of us had seen in at least a decade. I was so happy he was home, i think i must have said it at least a dozen times. It's not that i'm incapable of taking care of myself or that i need him there to give my life purpose, but i'm amazed that in so short a time, I've grown accustomed to having him there that i long for him when he's not, and cling to him when he gets back.  I'm also very glad he's not leaving for another full week at the end of this month again.

Family Tree book

I've never been good at figuring out what to actually call the mother of my third cousin once removed. (or something like that). To me they're all aunts and uncles and cousins. I may have never heard about them before, but they're still family. Many of them are simply fragments of stories my father launches into when he's had a glass of wine or two.

So i was greatly surprised when i found out that i not only had an Aunt Anita...but that she was compiling a family tree. Since i identify most with my father's side of the family (mom's were never really in contact until i was much older), i was eager to see pictures of my whole family all the way back to our roots in Italy.

The book was 100$ (yikes!) But well worth the money. My Aunt did a superb job and uncovered all sorts of stories that aren't wild yarns. I had never before seen many of these pictures.

Among many other things i learned:

• My Great Grandmother's name was Maria Concetta (but she went by her middle name)
• My Great Grandfather married her cause she was pregnant but they stayed together for 45 years
• My grandfather (their first surviving child) made the trip across the Atlantic between Italy and New York a total of 5 times. It would have been six but he was turned when he was 4 back because of being ill. 
• My grandfather married my name-sake grandmother who was a housekeeper for my great grandfather. 
• much to my displeasure, her name was misspelled throughout the entire book. They kept leaving off the E at the end of Anne which she spent a lot of time teaching me how to spell our name so it became important to me. 
• I come from a long line of swarthy, meaty, voluptuous women who are not afraid of getting into a bathing suit at the beach just because they have some jiggly areas. 
• We've always been hard working, close knit, and with serious family resemblance passed down. 

Great Grandma waving for the camera

Grandma and Grandpa wedding picture

Left to right: My dad, Grandpa, Uncle Manny, Uncle Nick, Grandma

Left to right: Uncle Manny, Grandma, Uncle Nick, Aunt Eilieen, Grandpa, Aunts Maria, Julianne, Michelle

I am a Female Carpenter

After trying to do a Google image search for Female Carpenter, Woman Carpenter, woman wood worker, female furiture builder and various other similar searches. I have come to the realization that the internet has no idea what those titles mean. Replace female/woman for male/man and you get plenty of images. 

But 90% of what does come up for the lady version...is downright insulting. 

I AM A FEMALE CARPENTER

As a hobby...I build beautiful furniture, using a variety of tools, math and reasoning, and techniques that have taken years to learn and develop. I am still learning and will always admire good craftsmanship.

I realize this a is 99% male dominated field, and have the utmost respect for masters of this craft regardless of their sex. 

THESE ARE NOT FEMALE CARPENTERS

They are models wearing costumes and holding props. 

Note there isn't a glue wipe, speck of sawdust, band-aid from a splinter, on her perfectly braided hair or perfectly selected clean clothes. Also...lady, you're going to stab yourself with the pencil pointed that way. And you! close your mouth unless you want it filled with sawdust! Save that look for a porno...if you still have limbs for it after you've been holding the saw like that running. 

Being a female carpenter doesn't mean i look like Paul Bunyan without a beard, never shave my legs, endeavor to be a lumberjack, live in the woods, or crack nuts with my toes. 

It doesn't mean i'm a man hater, ball buster, lesbian, or a body builder. 

NOR does it mean I consider Ikea directions a way to build furniture and can only do so with my low power pretty pink tool set that's sized for a child while wearing a push up bra and a thong.

(Note: Nothing against pink tools, just think you pay extra for less power)

It also doesn't mean that with proper training...these women above couldn't become carpenters. 

I realize in a male dominated world, hot pinup women are the easy way for guys to even think about tools and women in the same sentence. Sex always sells. I get that.

But I've worked damn hard to become a carpenter to the point where friends, master-craftsmen, my father and complete strangers are impressed by the quality, design and care put into every single piece i create. 

I'm proud to be a craftswoman who can look at particle board ikea items with distain and know i can make something better for cheaper, that will last for generations. 

AND I MAY MAKE THEM WHILE WEARING A THONG BUT AT LEAST THE THONG IS UNDER MY STAINED, PAINT SMUDGED, RIPPED, and SAWDUST COVERED

WORK PANTS!!!!!!!!!

This is me (for real) at work. 

Arranging

It's been a busy few weeks since my last post. I think out of probably 100 boxes, we're down to maybe a dozen. Most of those items are things that we're not entirely sure where to put because we don't have the furniture item that they will go into set up yet.

My carpentry hobby hasn't been put into use yet because we're still planning on how to fit everything necessary in the few things i have to build. We're pretty much set on our new media stand design which will house all our various electronics for the main room from the sub woofer to our modem while hiding all the wires from immediate view. Also in the works is a new desk that will fit both of us considering there's a 10 inch difference to our heights, not to mention a huge difference in our preferences on desks. Jon likes his arms low, i like mine high; he leans forward, i lean back; his mouse is on the left and mine is on the right; he puts the chair all the way up, i put the chair all the way down or my toes barely brush the floor. It's a conundrum.

Slowly we're learning how to adjust to our new living situation. Thankfully thus far, disagreements have been relatively small and we've worked through them by each giving a little ground.

On Saturday, we braved Ikea first thing in the morning. We got there when the cafe was open, but before the big crowd of people Actually, it was a total ghost town. And breakfast? I gotta tell you: 5$ for a filling breakfast for two! How they keep those prices so low is beyond me. Do they get the chickens to lay their eggs in modular form? Square instead of round to reduce waste of space???

Really...it's mind blowing in this day and age of 10$ coffee based drinks.

We went in looking for a sleeper sofa that would serve as guest sleeping plus an escape when one of us is sick or snoring badly.

We found one that seemed to work for us, but the fabric options were kind of ho-hum. It was definitively industrial and designed to stand up to millenia of wear and tear, but it was about as soft as burlap. But since brown was the best option, we went to talk to the sales lady. While i was talking to her, i happened to put my hand down and felt soft and semi fuzzy. I looked down and saw the same couch, but with an oatmeal colored corduroy-esque cover. I asked her if it was available on the sleeper sofa and she said "Yes, and that blue option over there" So i quickly called Jon over and we molested the couch for several minutes before deciding on the dark nighttime blue couch. (Which...this picture does absolutely no justice as to how wonderfully luxurious the couch is)

So shortly there after, after much grunting, cursing, yelling, struggling, straining, and amazed looks from neighbors....we got the couch and the rest of our loot into the apartment. While Boyfriend Jon still jokes about us having primary color couches (Blue, Red and Green), i thin the effect of having a rich red and a dark cobalt blue look wonderful together. Especially once i figure out where i put my dark cobalt colored blanket. That must be in a box still to be opened.....somewhere....