This year’s Christmas was a little more special than usual, because I got to meet my first nephew. His name is Charlie (Charles), and he was born on the morning of the 28th, at a whopping 9 pounds, 11 ounces. (His older sister was 10 pounds, 13 ounces when she was born.) The plan was to have a natural childbirth this time around, but unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way. He was too big, and up until a few days before the surgery, he was butt down. It also turned out that he ended up having the cord wrapped around his neck twice, so it was probably for the best that the natural birth wasn’t ever attempted.
Both mom and baby are doing well, although he’s dealing with a bit of jaundice right now. But they're both home from the hospital, and now the fun times begin. :)
Welcome to the world, Charlie. I’ve already decided that I’m going to send you your birthday presents on your half-birthday, so they don’t get lost in the Christmas rush. That is, of course, if I get approval from your mom…who I would never dare oppose in matters such as this.
As I mentioned in my last blog post, I just went on a little trip. Like I do about twice a year, I pack up my Xbox and a few clothes, hop in the car, and drive myself down to Utah to visit with the family. This year was a pretty quick trip. I spent all day on Saturday in the car, was in Utah for Sunday through Wednesday, and then spent all day Thursday in the car driving home. It’s about a 13-hour drive. It’s actually not too bad—except for driving through Idaho, which is awful.
Most of Idaho, especially the part through which I-84 slices, is pretty darn ugly. (Apologies to family who lives there…my heart goes out to you.) I did however, find a slightly less ugly view at, of all places, a freeway rest stop.
See that’s not quite so bad. Of course, you can put a river almost anywhere and it will improve the scenery drastically. Idaho in the winter is the worst, though. It’s like driving through Hoth.
Only without the mechanized shooty things. (I have only seen Star Wars once, and I didn’t like it that much, so I’m not that well-versed on the correct terminology.)
In any case, this trip was nice and uneventful. Sunday, my sister, her husband, and my adorable niece, Aubrey, came up to my parents’ house for a visit and a huge, early Labor day barbeque. We sat around on the patio in the back and played with Stella the dog while Aubrey the niece played in the kiddie pool.
Seriously. Isn’t she about the cutest thing ever? Those eyes should be illegal.
Monday—Labor Day—was spent on my Uncle and Aunt’s boat up at Pine View Reservoir.
It wasn’t as sunny as we would have liked, but what can you do. In fact, aside from Sunday, it was cloudy and overcast pretty much the whole time I was down in Utah. It’s like mother nature decided to deprive me of any nice weather all year long this year, like she’s punishing me or something. She’s such a vicious trollop. I mean, I drive a fuel-efficient car. I recycle. I don’t clear-cut Brazillian rain forests. She could ease up on me a little.
You know what, just for that, I’m going to go buy the biggest Hummer I can find. If you want global warming, I’ll give you global warming. Bring it on, Mother Nature. I will take you down.
Anyway, Tuesday, I made peach jam with the peaches from the tree in my parents’ back yard. The tree is only two years old, so they had to trim off most of the fruit this year (about 95%) to keep the tree from getting over-burdened before it’s strong enough. Even still, they had about five dozen peaches that all got ripe at about the same time…which just happened to correspond with my arrival in Utah. So I made peach jam with a few of the peaches, and it’s chillin’ in my freezer. Note to self: make waffles soon.
One of the other main reasons that I decided to go down to Utah for my vacation time was to see my friend Nicole perform in a musical called “Drowsy Chaperone.” Nicole is a classmate of mine from the MDT program at BYU, and is one of the most ludicrously talented people I know. She was also my partner in Choreographic Styles when we sort of killed it. It was also directed by my not-so-secret artistic crush, Dave Tinney. My sis was able to come along, so I drove down to Daybreak to pick her up and take some more pictures of my stinkin’ cute niece:
Then sis and I drove down to Orem, were disappointed to discover that Lon’s BBQ had gone out of business, went to Burger Supreme for old times’ sake (at which I was disappointed to discover it wasn’t as good as I remember it being…especially the onion rings. Blargh), and ended up at the Hale Center Theater in Orem. The show was great, it was great to see several of my old theater friends and one of my former students (who is teaching himself now too!) and spend some time with my sister.
Wednesday, I got myself some Utah Scones at the Star Café in Clearfield, did laundry, shopped for some snacks for the road trip, and made a nummy dinner with the tomatoes and zucchini from my parents’ garden. And through it all, we played a lot of games on the Kinect. Tell you what…if my mom could spend a bit of time getting used to playing Dance Central, she could be a major threat.
So, it was a nice trip. It was great to see everyone, but it was also nice to get back into town and get back to my dog. He stayed with a co-worker of mine for the week I was gone, and quite frankly, he doesn’t seem all that thrilled to have me back. He’s been pouting and disobedient ever since I got back. I just think he got used to having another dog in the house since my co-worker has a very sweet Sheltie named Charlie. I think Luke wants a brother.
And, to top it all off, I found four zucchini like this when I got back:
I was only gone for six days, and when I left, I didn’t have a single Zucchini on either of my plants. In six days, I had four of these get pollinated and grow to roughly the size of a Northern Pike. I also got a dozen ears of corn, a dozen carrots, a couple of bags of radishes, and two gallons of lettuce. And my tomatoes STILL aren’t ripe. Well, at least we’ll have another week of sunny, warm weather. But this is getting ridiculous.
And, fortunately, I’ve got two more full days of weekend before I have to go back to work on Monday. I do love vacations.
Well, it has been a wonderful Christmas Holiday. Aside from the fact that there was a distinct lack of white surrounding my Christmas, it was nice to spend time with family and friend, take some time off work, and, of course, give and get presents. My parent’s house was beautifully decorated, as usual.
But, for someone who loves to decorate for Christmas as much (and as early) as do I, once Christmas is over, I’m not overly sentimental about leaving my decorations up. I got home from Utah very early Monday morning (12:30AM), and by 2:30PM that same day, my decorations were boxed up and in the storage unit. I’m ready to move on. And, quite frankly, the sooner summer gets here, the better.
While I was home, my sister, brother-in-law, father, mother, and I had a long discussion about food and the food system in the US. For the last six months, I have not been particularly kind to myself food-wise. I’ve put on even more weight, and as of Monday morning, topped the scale at a pudgy 202.3 pounds. (It’s about 30 pounds too much for my 5’10” frame.) A large portion of that has come from fast food combined with my utter loathing of any and all forms of exercise. Part of our discussion was about how to eat more in line with what our bodies really need. None of us are likely to become hard-core vegans or anything like that (most especially because I believe that veganism or hardcore vegitarianism are NOT in the best interest of our bodies from a health perspective.) However, we all largely decided that we need to eat less meat overall.
So, when I got back, I dove right into my plan. The overall goal is to lose 25 pounds by the end of April. I’m going to do that by cutting out 95% of my fast food eating (I’m not going to give it up entirely), tracking my calories using the awesome MyNetDiary.com website and iPad app, and forcing myself to exercise at least three times a week.
At my last grocery trip, I tried putting together at least a few vegitarian/vegan options, and saving my meat for only a couple of times a week. I bought healthier pre-made foods that I can eat at home, since I think we all know that it’s extremely unlikely I’m going to cook a ton of food every night for myself. I just don’t have the time or inclination anymore. I also bought a juicer so I can try to increase my vegetable and fruit intake somewhat. (Thanks for the Kohl’s gift card, mom & dad!)
There’s one main reason I am trying to make this change: I feel disgusting. I get out of breath climbing a few flights of stairs to my office. My lower back hurts all the time. I get frequent heartburn. I’ve gotten sick more in the last year than I have in the last five years put together. I don’t have very much energy. I need to drop this weight and start feeling healthy again.
There’s also one other reason that I’m making this change: I’ve picked my vacation for the year. I’m going to go swim with the wild dolphins off the northern coast of the Bahamian island Bimini this year in the autumn, and I would just as soon they didn’t mistake me for an injured manatee. It’s bad enough I’m going to be Casper-The-Ghost white when I get there, I’d just as soon not be bloated as well. It’s going to be a trip of a lifetime, and I want to make sure that I’m not self conscious about my fat rolls the whole time I’m down there.
So, I’m looking for good low-calorie meals…particularly those that are either missing or light on the meat. I would also prefer to have recipes that take advantage of the foods that are currently “in season”—something of a misnomer in the middle of winter, but you know what I mean. Let’s just say I’m not going to be cooking with fresh strawberries right now.
So far, I’ve got a few recipes scheduled to try out, and if I find any that are any good, I’ll re-post them here for anyone else who happens to be chugging along the same path.
After that, the only thing left to do is try to avoid the siren song of the Dairy Queen…the shrill little Harpy.
As previously mentioned, I may not decorate for Thanksgiving, but I do celebrate Thanksgiving. As a natural complainer, I, of all people, need to be reminded of lucky I have been in my life. Here are a few of the things I’m grateful for:
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I ran into one of my old co-workers today, and I was again reminded how grateful I am for my job. I’m grateful that I am able to work for a company that treats its employees more like human beings and less like expendable resources. I’m grateful that I have health insurance. I’m grateful that, despite having worked there for less than six months, and having already taken two paid days off, I have nearly two weeks of paid time off accumulated. I’m grateful that I don’t have to clock my down down to the minute, and I don’t have to get approval to leave work 15 minutes early, because there is no rigid schedule.
***
I’m grateful for living in such a beautiful area. This is beautiful, not only because of the wonderful summer weather, the beautiful scenery, and the clean air, but because of the people. Of all of the places I have ever lived, I don’t think I’ve ever lived anywhere where the people were more accepting of differences. I think it’s due to the higher education level, the extremely diverse population, and the overall liberal feel of the place, but the people here just don’t seem to get so worked up over other people’s choices.
***
I’m grateful for the Internet. I’ve basically grown up with the Internet. I started using the net regularly in 1992 when I got my very first 2400 baud modem. Since then, I’ve basically lived online. You can argue whether this is a blessing or a curse, but it has become a major part of my life—one that I would be hard pressed to live without. I’ve been able to have fun, learn new skills, get and give support, make money, spend a whole lot more money, and share the things I create. I’m grateful for that young man from Lansing who just gave me his old, leftover modem to experiment with so I could join the revolution so early. (It’s strange to think that the Internet as we know it now hasn’t even been around for 20 years yet. When I started getting online, it was using Lynx and Gopher. There weren’t any graphical websites, and certainly no such thing as e-commerce. Things move quickly in the technological age, don’t they?
***
I’m grateful for my family. We don’t live close together, and haven’t for a long time. But I still feel very close with them. I’m grateful that they love me no matter what, and that even though I make choices that they may not agree with, that doesn’t diminish their love for me or mine for them. Considering what I have seen many of my friends go through with their families, I’m not really sure how I got so lucky to have mine, but I’m glad I did.
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I’m glad that I can write in my blog, take photos, write songs, play video games, play with the dog, record audiobooks, go shopping, cook (and eat), and do all of the other things that I do in the course of my life that bring me enjoyment. I’m grateful that I get to set my own schedule, make my own rules, and live the way I want to live. I’m grateful that I can decorate for Christmas a month early. I’m grateful for my dog, my iPad, and my Tivo. I’m grateful for a car that, in five years, has only needed oil changes, new tires, and (as of this moment) new brakes. I’m grateful for my friends.
***
I’m grateful for lots of other things too, but I think I’m going to limit my schmaltziness to this list. For now, anyway. With Thanksgiving right around the corner, I felt like I had to throw in at least one Gratitude post. Last of all, I’m extremely grateful for Kaspars, the place where I have Thanksgiving dinner every years that I’m not with family. Because this is what my Thanksgiving dinner will consist of:
Carved Turkey with Rosemary, Lemon and Black Pepper Rub
Pike Place Market Ale and Honey Glazed Ham
Old Fashioned Gravy
Cranberry, Orange and Cinnamon Sauce
Annabelle’s Savory Celery, Sweet Onion & French Bread Stuffing Corn Bread Stuffing with Crispy Oysters
Whiskey Barbecue Pulled Pork
Maple Vanilla Bean Sweet Potatoes
Country Style Red Skin Garlic Mashed Potatoes
Brussels Sprouts with Shallots and Crispy Bacon
Butternut Squash, Spinach, Ricotta Cheese and Walnut Cannelloni Baked Macaroni and Cheese with Fine Herb Bread Crumb Crust
Dungeness Crab Champagne Bisque
Northwest Seafood Stew with Sun Dried Tomatoes and Basil
Black Bean and Cojito Cheese Quesadilla with Pico de Gallo
House Smoked Wild Salmon with Honey Rum Glaze
Chilled Prawn Cocktail with Horseradish Tomato Cocktail Sauce
House Smoked Penn Cove Mussels
Olive Oil Poached Albacore Tuna with Watercress and Red Bell Pepper Pesto
Roasted Cauliflower Salad with Curried Garlic Dressing
Spanish Red Snapper Escabéche Deviled Eggs with Dungeness Crabmeat Orzo Salad with Green Vegetables and Green Goddess Dressing
Caesar Salad with Focaccia Croutons and Parmesan Dressing
Thai Noodle Beef Salad with Mint, Cucumber and Lemon Dressing
Greek Vegetable Salad with Feta and Kalamata Olives
Red Cabbage and Apple Slaw with Brown Sugar Dressing
Roasted Winter Vegetable Salad with Balsamic Vinaigrette
Tomato, Basil and Fresh Mozzarella Salad
Caramelized Onion and Three Cheese Tart
Balsamic Onions with Oregon Blue Cheese
LePuy Lentil Salad with Chicken Cilantro Meatballs
Roasted Beet, Pear, Spiced Granola Salad
Ricotta Tortellini Salad with Autumn Squash and Crispy Sage Seasonal Fruit Platters
International Cheese Selection with Sesame Crackers, Focaccia, Walnut Bread, Challah, Savory Scones, Cilantro Jalapeño Corn and Bacon Muffins
Every single year. Without fail. Every single year, I have to answer this stupid question. You mention that you always start putting up Christmas decorations on Halloween night because you don’t like Halloween, and there is a certain segment of the population that freaks right the hell out and asks (usually in a voice raised in both volume and pitch) "YOU CAN’T DO THAT! WHAT ABOUT THANKSGIVING?"
Here’s the deal: Thanksgiving is still there. It’s not going anywhere. And, because of Thanksgiving, I get two days off of work, so I even recognize it as a real holidays (unlike Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Martin Luther King Day, Pioneer Day, Halloween, Secretary’s Day, or any of those other stupid pseudo-holidays.) I even LIKE Thanksgiving. What’s not to like? Great food, family (if you’re lucky), being thanksful. All good stuff. But I will NOT decorate for Thanksgiving. I flat out refuse.
For starters, it is impossible to decorate for Thanksgiving without looking like you stepped out of the pages of Modern Amish Living. As far as I’m concerned, the phrase "Shabby Chic" should be removed from the lexicon forever and ever, as should the decoration style it describes. If I wanted my apartment to look like my grandmother’s barn, I would have decorated it that way. I, however like things classy and modern. And since I don’t have anywhere to put a piccaninny doll on an antique rocking chair, and I refuse to decorate with dried corn stalks, porcelain tchotchkes of Native American stereotypes, pilgrim caricatures, and stuffed turkey plushies, there’s not a lot left over.
Secondly, any holiday that embraces the colors of yellow, orange, and brown for decoration purposes is a holiday that I can’t allow into my decor. My color scheme is celery green and robin’s egg blue, with Espresso colored furniture. If I were to start putting orange, yellow, and brown on top of all of that, my house would look like it ate the 1970s, got decorational indigestion, and then had diarrhea across the living room. I won’t do it. It’s not going to happen.
Third: where, pray tell, would I store all of my Thanksgiving decorations when I’m not using them? Should I rent a storage locker at $60 a month so I can have a place to keep my Indian Corn and wicker cornucopia? Yeah. That’s worth my money. Also, spending money on these decorations in the first place? You’ve got to be smoking crack. Which, come to think of it, may be the only way that most Thanksgiving decorations would look good in the first place.
Fourth. Let me tell you about what my standard Thanksgiving usually consists of. 1) Wake up at 8AM and take the dog for a walk in the rain. 2) At 11:30, hop in the car and drive to a restaurant in Seattle. 3) Eat a massive meal, sometimes by myself, sometimes with one other friend. 4) Drive Home. 5) Take a Nap. 6) Sit around the apartment bored out of my mind, playing video games, or watching movies. 7) Maybe talk on the phone with my family. Maybe. 8) Take the dog for another walk or two…usually in the rain. 9) Start playing Christmas Carols in anticipation of the most wonderful holiday of all time, when I will get to go home and be with my wonderful family and take a week and half off of work. See, I don’t have any family here, and it’s far too much effort to try and get home for just the Thanksgiving weekend, so I usually do Thanksgiving alone. I don’t mind it. In fact, I’m rather used to it. But I’m grateful I get to go home for Christmas.
Fifth: I never have people in my house for Thanksgiving, so why not decorate the way I want to.
So, to summarize, Thanksgiving is a wonderful holiday in which we can reflect on the things for which we are grateful. However, despite the wonderful meaning behind this holiday, the decorations are truly heinous. I believe, as an ambassador of good taste (What? Shut up.), that it is my duty to start a revolution. We need to rename Christmas decorations to "Holiday Decorations." That way, we can use them for Thanksgiving AND Christmas, thus removing the need for horrendous Thanksgiving décor. Because, really, which would you rather be surrounded with when you eat your Thanksgiving dinner?
I love Thanksgiving, and I’m grateful for many, many things. But one of the things I’m most grateful for is that I am able to put up my Christmas decorations for Thanksgiving, and I don’t have to decorate for Thanksgiving at all.
So, the sis came to Seattle this weekend to spend time with me, despite the fact that I was constantly hacking up a lung due to newly discovered allergies. We had a blast, ate way too much food, and enjoyed the good company. (And we saw Inception. Awesome movie.)
We went to Pike Place Market, Ivars, took the Ferry to Bainbridge Island, saw Inception, ate at Pomegranate Bistro, watched TV, napped, read, went to the dog park, ate like pigs, and otherwise had a wonderful time. An excellent weekend.
Now if I could just get over these @#$%#@( allergies and stop coughing long enough to sleep for more than two hours a night.
As I mentioned in some earlier blog posts, last Friday was my final day at Microsoft. It was a bittersweet departure for me…I’d been there for a long time (especially for me.) A small group of work friends went to lunch at the sit-down restaurant on campus. I got a steak sandwich and perhaps one of the greatest inventions in the history of mankind: Sweet Potato Fries. (Cue: Choir of Angels). Then, my boss scheduled a little celebration for the whole team for my leaving. I’m not sure if they were honoring me or celebrating the fact that I was FINALLY gone. (I’ll chose to think the former. I just like living in that world of oblivion.) He got pie. (Have I ever mentioned how much I love pie? I haven’t? Well, I love pie.)
It ended up working out that I was able to take a week off between leaving Microsoft and starting at DataSphere. So, I woke up Saturday morning with a full week of luxuriating and lounging and being a bum ahead of me. As I was laying in bed snuggling with my puppy, trying to avoid getting out of bed, I had a thought. Now, normally, I try to avoid having thoughts as, more often than not, my thoughts only lead me down dark and dangerous roads from which there is no possible return. This time was no different. I was laying in bed thinking about a conversation I had with my cousin earlier in the week. Austin and I have been close since we were little kids. He’s only six months older than I am, and when we got together we were dangerous. Well, dangerous in only the way that two goody-two-shoes Mormon kids can be dangerous…which is to say we weren’t dangerous at all, just really annoying. Anyway, Austin and his wife were travelling to Utah to visit with his parents…who only live about five minutes away from my parents. As I was laying there in bed, I thought. "It’s too bad that I can’t be down in Utah while Austin and Anna are there. I’d like to see them again. Wait a minute. Why can’t I be down in Utah?" I didn’t have any work considerations, why not go. So, at 8AM, I called up my folks and said, "So, um, would you mind terribly if I just drove down to Utah today?" Then I called up Constance at Paws-A-Moment, the awesome boarding facility at which Luke stays when I’m travelling, and by 10:30 AM, I was on the road.
Thirteen hours and one really terrible audiobook later, I pulled into Syracuse, UT at about 12:30 AM. (Yes, I know that 10:30 AM to 12:30 AM is not 13 hours. There’s a time zone change. Sheesh.) (And seriously, that audiobook was AWFUL!)
Thus began my very short, but very fun spontaneous vacation to Utah.
Sunday, the folks and I drove across the causeway to Antelope Island, out in the Great Salt Lake, and took a boatload of photos. It was an absolutely stunning day, and the island was beautiful. I got a LOT of really great shots, including the really cool shot that is now the banner image for my new photoblog. Below is the view from the east side of the island looking back toward the Wasatch mountain range. (Click on the image to see the full-sized version. Warning: It’s HUGE.
We putzed around the rest of the evening, and took a walk down to the little pond/park at the end of my parent’s street. Again, I got some more great pictures of some of the local birds. Especially these little ducklings!
So cute. Monday morning (Memorial Day) dawned extremely early as my dad, uncle, and I decided to hike Adam’s Canyon just east of Layton. Getting up at 5:30 in the morning is against my religion. And getting up at 5:30 in the morning ON VACATION is even more evil, but nevertheless, I set aside my deeply held beliefs in order to appease my tormentors. By 6:30, we were starting a long uphill climb to a very pretty area with a big, 40-foot waterfall.
The hike was tiring, but very pretty. I carried all my camera gear along with me to take a bunch of pictures…a few of which turned out all right. It reminded me that before I go on any long backpacking trip, I really do need to get into better shape. By the end, my legs were like Jello and I felt the need to sleep for the rest of my life.
After the hike and my nap, my sister, brother-in-law, and niece came to my parents house to visit, then we all went over to my aunt and uncle’s house to have a little BBQ (not a really barbeque…just grilling burgers) and enjoy each other’s company. It was nice to see everyone, the food was great, and the weather was just perfect.
No, she’s not screaming or crying. She’s making a (hilarious) camera face.
Tuesday was much more laid back. Austin, Anna, and I went to this little dive called The Star Cafe in Layton, which serves "Utah Scones." I’m going to write a whole blog post about Utah Scones vs. Regular Scones (Utah Scones SO win) so you don’t get a picture now. Stay tuned for that little gem. Breakfast was awesome. This is one of those places where you could become "a regular" and the waitresses know your name and know what you want when you come in. Plus it was CHEAP! Austin, Anna, and I ate enough to sustain a small third world country for about a week, and it ended up costing us $23. Whereas, I can usually spend more than that just for myself at my cafe here, and still not get as much food. Good on ya’, Star Cafe!
The rest of the day we just spend hanging out. We ran some errands, watched The Princess and the Frog, ate Cafe Rio (my most-missed Utah food) including their awesome Tres Leches, and did some work on Dad’s computer. Then, Wednesday, I was back in the car for another 13-hour drive back home to Seattle. And, of course, about an hour before I got back home, it started raining, and hasn’t stopped since I got back. (Not that I’m bitter.)
I’ve never really done something that spontaneous before. It was a lot of fun. I actually even enjoyed the car ride. I tell you what: a good audiobook or two really make the time just fly. (For military or sci-fi nerds out there, I would HIGHLY recommend Jack Campbell’s Lost Fleet series. Very captivating.) I am the kind of person who generally plans his activities and doesn’t generally like having to change my plans at the last minute. I was just planning on working on my website, maybe starting my next audiobook, and playing some video games. Instead, I got to take about 800 photos, see distant friends and family, eat some great food, enjoy the sunshine for a couple of days (since we haven’t seen it in Seattle since last October), and let someone else clean up after me for a change!
The moral of the story? Aw, hell. I don’t really do morals. Just suffice it to say that if the opportunity arises to make a surprise visit to my family again, I’m totally going to do it. Big thanks to mom & dad for the flexibility, and to Rich & Barb for saving space for one more for Memorial Day! It was a blast.
I’m going to let you all in on a little secret. Ready? Promise not to tell? Okay.
I am an emotional person.
Stop the presses! I’m sure I just totally blew your mind. But it’s true. I’m an emotional person. I feel lots of emotions and I feel them very strongly. And, perhaps, more importantly, I express my emotions. I don’t think anyone would ever use the adjective "stoic" to express me.
The reason I bring this up is because, for some reason, for the last couple of weeks, I’ve been in a state of hyper-emotionalism. This happens every now and again. It’s not like an emotional version of Mount Eyjafjallajökull or anything…it’s just that my emotions have been heightened slightly. TV shows make me cry. NPR reports get me worked up a little more. Nothing huge. Until today, that is.
Today at work, I read an extremely beautiful blog post written by my amazing sister. (If you don’t follow her blog, you should. She is one of the most honest and open bloggers I have ever read. And she’s kind of my hero.) After reading her post, I had to take a little break from my break to get myself back together because, I’m not ashamed to admit, I was a bit of a wreck. And I have been pretty much all day. (Thanks, Megan…)
Recently, several people around me have lost loved ones. Some, suddenly. Some, after long, protracted illnesses. I’ve been fortunate in my life. I haven’t really experienced much loss. I still have three of my four grandparents. I’ve only lost one Aunt to cancer. We have a small family, but we’ve been relatively untouched by tragedy. But seeing the effects of losing a loved one on my friends and co-workers has been on my mind lately. Then, I read my sister’s beautiful blog post about wanting to expand her family, and, well, let’s just say that my emotions have been a little raw ever since.
Over the course of my life, I have come to realize how important my family is to me. When I look at the stories, and experiences, and feelings of my friends and coworkers toward their family, I can’t help but be nearly overwhelmed with gratitude at how fortunate I am to have the family I have. I don’t dread going home to visit. I don’t have emotional baggage that I had to work through because of my parents. I don’t hate any of my siblings. In fact, the only reason I am a semi-functional adult is because of my family.
My father is, to put it simply, a great man. He was always involved in our lives. He told us how much he loved us every single day. He showed up how much he loved us by how hard he worked, how selflessly he served, and how he treated everyone with whom he came into contact. Besides being one of the smartest men I know, dad is also one of the most accepting–always willing to help out those who are struggling. He has a connection with the spirit that is unparalleled by any I have ever experienced. He understands and intuits things that, despite having seen it over and over again, still boggle my mind.
My mother is selflessness personified. She gives everything. She spent her birthday money on us. She stayed home to raise her children. She served in church callings–giving above and beyond the call of duty. Due to persistent physical issues she has dealt with physical pain and exhaustion for so many years that she doesn’t even realize that it’s not normal…and she rarely complains. She cooked and cleaned, put up with her children’s (sometime terrible) behavior, and kept a beautiful home. She built a haven for her family, and was always available as a source of comfort and love.
My younger brother and I, as most brothers do, fought like cats and dogs growing up. But I’ve always been awed by his talents. He is a jaw-droppingly amazing writer. He is excruciatingly smart. As he’s grown up, I’ve been blown away by his dedication to his family. He gives all his energy toward taking care of others. I cherish the relationship that Jake and I have developed as the both of us have grown and matured. I feel like we understand each other in ways that most others can’t.
And then there’s my sister. Megan and I have always had a special relationship. There is something about the bond that my little sister and I share that is beyond precious to me. She is one of the most honest, open, and caring individuals in this world. She truly, and without a hint of irony, wants to make the world a better place. She has a spark and a spirit about her that draws people in, and I’ve watched with awe throughout the course of our lives as, no matter where she goes, she, without even realizing it, makes that corner of the world a brighter place.
I talk with my parents several times a week on the phone. I call my brother and sister weekly. I would love nothing more than to spend time with them. When I go on vacation, I go home. I would even love to live with my parents again (although I would never do that to them…). That is the kind of relationship we have as a family. These aren’t just blood relatives. These people are my closest friends.
It hasn’t been sunshine and lollipops, of course. We’ve had some pretty major family struggles that belong to our family. There have been some scary times, a lot of disappointments, and a fairly significant amount of pain. But despite that, this is a family that has survived.
Over the last ten years, and I’ve tried to reconcile the way my life turned out with the way I had "planned" for it turn out, the one thing that always caused me the greatest heartache was that I wasn’t going to be able to build the kind of family that I had been a part of. And, as I grew, as my family members spread their wings, I felt like I was being left behind. Mom & Dad were moving toward retirement and being together as empty nesters. Jake was married and raising 4 kids while getting a PhD. Megan was married and had a little girl with special needs. Where did I fit in? I’ve struggled with feeling that, although I knew I was loved, I was starting to be forgotten because I couldn’t participate in the family in the same way as everyone else.
But they have refused to let that happen. I am still part of this amazing, incredible, awesome, inspiring group of individuals–and more importantly–the family collective. Resistance is futile. (And I don’t want to resist anyway.) They have loved me for all those years where I felt like I couldn’t love myself. My family is where my happiness comes from. It doesn’t come from all my toys, or my food, or watching TV, or photography. Those are enjoyable, sure, but my happiness comes from talking to my mom & dad on the phone every couple of nights, or a late night chat with my brother, or talking about poop with my sister. (Somehow, all of our phone conversations always devolve into conversations about poop.)
Mom, Dad, Megan, and Jake. I hope you know how much I love you all. Thank you for loving me back. For accepting me. For allowing me to be part of something so special.
I've often wondered how people manage to interact with me on a daily basis. Because it has become blatantly obviously that I'm completely and totally insane. What with the level of sheer crazy that I've managed to obtain over the last couple of weeks, I'm honestly surprised people have started talking to me in condescending child voices or surreptitiously avoiding my gaze (or presence) like you would a raving lunatic on the subway who is recruiting passengers for his long space journey to join the God Lukamis who lives on the planet Zimath. I, of course, didn't always consider myself to be completely mental. It's a condition that snuck up on me gradually. But here I am. Just recently, I found myself at a bit of a crossroads: I could either fight to maintain what little sanity I still possessed, or I could embrace my inherent mental unhinging with wild abandon.
I chose the latter.
And what, you may ask, is the thing that pushed over the edge from (relatively) sane, (barely) normal, suburban corporate life into my Tom Cruise-level of crazy? I can promise you, you're not going to see this coming. Are you ready?
…
Here it comes…
…
In August, I'm going on a 5-day backpacking trip through the Wind River Valley in Wyoming.
Serious. I'm going on a 50+ mile hike through the Wyoming high country. You can see several photos and a narrative at this website (which is also the source of the above photo).
On the surface, this may not seem like the standard definition of insanity, but let me explain why it is:
I haven't been camping since I was 15 years old
I didn't particularly enjoy it then
My idea of roughing it is spending a night in a Motel 6
There will be no electricity
Ergo, there will be no computers, cell phones, televisions, etc.
I have absolutely no experience on this kind of trip
I own no appropriate camping/hiking gear
It will be an elevations between 10,000 and 13,000 feet
I'm a lazy, lazy man
This will require pooping in a hole in the middle of nowhere outside in the open
One guess as to which one of those concerns me the most. (Hint: #10)
So, what happened what this: They say insanity runs in the genes. I'm not sure exactly who "they" is, but "they" say that. If "they" is correct, then I got my particular brand of insanity from my father. Last summer, my dad, his Twin Brother™ and two other men went on a rather dangerous and difficult 8 day (I think), 85 mile backpacking trip along the Highline Trail in the Uinta Mountains of Utah. He did this despite the fact that he is old enough to join AARP. When dad got back from his trip, I spent a lot of time on the phone with him as he related his experience. And my father is, if nothing else, a master storyteller. He painted a picture for me that stirred my blood with excitement. The trip was extremely difficult, but according to him, was a life-changing experience. He described the nights with the skies so clear you could see the milky way stretch from one horizon to the other; of locations so remote, places so isolated that it was easy to forget that you weren't the last man alive. He made me jealous. I have never experienced anything like that. The closest I get to experiences like that is when I take Luke to the dog park early enough in the morning that nobody else is out yet.
Also, this year, my little sister did something that was (to me) equally as impressive. She hiked from one rim of the grand canyon to the other rim in a single day, a total of some ridiculous sum like 23 miles. Her blog post about the experience got me going too. She managed to do something that was so difficult, but so completely rewarding. It's almost like the two things go hand in hand. Who knew?
So, when I went home for Christmas, dad showed me the pictures of his trip…and they were absolutely gorgeous. And again I was jealous. And then he did what he does every year: invite me to come along on the next trip. I believe that he was fully expecting that, like every year since I was 14, I would make some smart-ass comment about staying in a Motel 6, and that would be that. But his stories of the trail stirred something primal inside of me that has long been dormant/dead, and I got to thinking–"a dangerous pastime, I know". I'm fairly certain that I took him off guard when I said that I wanted to go.
I think it's fairly unlikly that I will ever be one of those avid backpackers/hikers/outdoorsman. Most of the time, I'd rather spend my weekend in my pajamas, sitting in front of my HDTV, and playing video games. Or shopping. Or going out to eat. Or giving myself an appendectomy with a garden scythe. But while doing those things (except for the appendectomy) are enjoyable, I feel like continuing to choose them over more participative activities is tantamount to throwing my life down the garbage disposal and flipping on the switch. I'm young(ish), relatively healthy, and I want to experience life. I have always assumed that I don't like backpacking, but I've never done it. And maybe I'd really, really enjoy it. Maybe I'll despise every second of it, and by the end of the trip, my dad will want to go all Abraham and Isaac on me up in the mountains because of my incessant complaining. But I won't know until I've tried it. There are enough things in life that I won't get to do because of time, money, fear, etc. I don't want to give up what could be a life-changing experience (or a great new hobby) without trying it.
Plus, I just spent a butt-load of money on a new camera. This seems like a truly excellent opportunity to do the kind of photography that most people don't even dream about. I mean, really, how often does someone (who isn't a photographer for National Geographic) get to carry a professional camera into the vast wilds for five days and snap photos like crazy?
So, I have agreed to go on a massive (for me) backpacking trip in August. I get out of breath going up three flights of stairs. My idea of exertion is making my bed. This means that training started on Monday and will continue through August. Training consists of:
Losing 20 Pounds (See Resolution #3)
Geting into Shape (See Resolution #6)
Cardio (Running, doing stairs)
Weights (Shoulders, Back, and Abs, especially…so I can carry a 45# pack)
Start eating real, natural food to fuel the process
Begging, borrowing, or stealing as much equipment as necessary. I don't want to start spending hundreds of dollars on equipment until I know for sure this is going to be a long-term hobby for me. I don't need another money sink hole in my life, thank you very much
Practicing hiking. Start doing some day hikes on the weekends around the area. Bring dog for company.
It's day four of the new routine, and I've already lost four pounds. I've been running twice, except I can only run about a mile and a half, and now I have shin splints. But I must persevere. Because I'll be damned if I get out on the trail in August and I get my rear end handed to me by a couple of men old enough to get the senior citizen discount at Denny's. I may be inexperienced, but I'm going to make sure that by the time August rolls around, I'll be ready. Or I will have quit. But either way, we'll know.
I'm really, really excited for this trip. It hasn't even been fully planned yet, but I'm looking forward to it. As I was telling my (insane) father, I'm scared to death of it, because it's so new, but it's also exciting. I expect that it will be one of the more physically demanding things I've ever done in my life–going through puberty notwithstanding–but I feel like I really need to exert myself in a portion of my life. I need something that will roust me from my ever-deepening rut and give me the motivation to get my act in gear. I figure that there are few motivators more potent than the looming threat 50+ mile hike through the Wyoming high country with a heavy backpack and a couple of trash-talking geriatrics to get me headed down the right path.
And if I survive, I'll have a few amazing blog posts and (hopefully) thousands of pictures to share.
Food. That was the theme for this Christmas. Food out the Wazoo. On a related note, what’s the heck is a wazoo?
(According to mindlesscrap.com, it’s from the 1960 and is an offshoot of the saying "up the kazoo." Once again, I owe my allegiance to Google Bing.)
This Christmas was probably one of the favorites that I’ve had in the last several years. It was far too short, but it was extremely enjoyable.
I left Seattle on Wednesday morning at the butt-crack of dawn (as was mentioned in a previous blog post.) I waltzed through the security checkpoint (not literally…although that does make for a very interesting mental image). I really love airports. I actually like getting to the airport early so I can walk around the whole airport people watching and window shopping. There’s just something so energetic and entertaining about the airport. And I never cease to be amazed by the things people try to sell there. Because, really, the airport is where I’m going to do my Christmas shopping, buy new luggage, or even consider throwing away my money at Brookstone. But it certainly makes for entertaining times. My terminal was in a different building than the check-in facility, so I had to take the underground train to the other terminal building. This also entertained me. Apparently, going to the airport for me is the adult equivalent to riding that stupid little horse thingy outside the grocery store for a quarter. I couldn’t find a dispensory for my mandatory Airport Cinnabon Ablution, so instead I opted for a bacon, egg, and cheese croissant and orange juice.
Anyway, the flight left early, arrived in Salt Lake 25 minutes early, and then spent 30 minutes sitting on the tarmac waiting for the plane in our gate to get out of the way. So, in essence, I got there on time. The new luggage performed well, and we were off to Syracuse. I spent time with the family, tried Steak-Ums for the first time (meh) and took a nap…the start to a very nice day.
That night, I drove down to Salt Lake and had a very greasy (yet very yummy) dinner with my friend Jessica, who got me both of my jobs at Microsoft. We ate at Crown Burger in Salt Lake, which is a local burger joint/chain. I got the Pastrami Burger, Fries, and the Pineapple Shake. It was excellent. Then, despite neither of us being appropriately attired, we headed over to Temple Square to see the Christmas lights. It was, as my Grandfather says, "Colder than a well-digger’s ass in January." But the lights were beautiful as always, and the company was excellent. I even got to christen my new Camera.
Thursday (Christmas Eve) dawned even colder than the night before. We lounged around the house in the morning, then left at about 12:30 to head down to Daybreak, to my sister’s house. On the way to her house, we pass one of the few things that I actually miss about Utah: a restaurant called Kneaders. It’s another local chain, and they have one of the best sandwiches I’ve even eaten in my life, the Turkey Bacon Avocado. Roasted and hand-pulled turkey with bacon, lettuce, onions, tomatoes (which I remove because raw tomatoes are foul) and avocado on a freshly baked focaccia bread covered with Asiago cheese made at the store. Since I pass by the place on the way to my sister’s house, it has become tradition for us to stop and get this thing of beauty every time we come (image stolen from the Kneader’s Website, ergo the misspelling of "avocado"):
One of our family traditions is that we always spent Christmas day in our own house with the family. There were occasions where grandparents came and did Christmas with us, but we never did Christmas at someone else’s house. My sis has held firm to that tradition as well (way to go!) and so they always do Christmas morning at their own house with my adorable little niece. So, we did our gift exchange on Christmas eve at her house, and she made us an excellent dinner of a really good homemade chicken noodle soup. I ate myself sick. I received the Blu-Ray of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and some yummy chocolate, and I got both Matt/Megan and the Parentals the same gifts: HD Webcams and a copy of my Audiobook The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. I also got my niece a Sit and Spin, which I always loved when I was a little kid. She’s got some special needs, so she’ll need help with it for a while, but she did seem to have a very good time. And the adults got to laugh ourselves sick from spinning her around and then making her try to walk. Below is a video. (Warning: Your head may explode from cuteness.)
This was really the first year I felt that Aubrey really had an idea what was going on, and she loved opening her presents. And, hoo boy, did she get excited about being encouraged to rip up paper!
That little girl is just so cute it’s lethal. And then, despite having a house full of good-looking people (both my sister and her husband look like they could be in print ads), they also got the second-cutest puppy in the world a few months ago, and she’s just a fun, lovable little bundle of energy.
It was adorable watching Aubrey give Stella big hugs and watching Stella lick Aubrey’s face. Those two are going to be friends for a long time. And why, might you ask is Stella the 2nd cutest puppy in the world? Well, I think it’s obvious that the first-cutest puppy in the world was, of course, my puppy, and I happened to find a few pictures of him on my parent’s computer that my dad took just days after I got him.
Stella, you’re cute, but you just can’t compare. After the presents, food, puppies, and general holiday merriment, we drove home, had some Key Lime tarts, and rounded out the evening watching the re-broadcast of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s annual Christmas Concert from two years ago, with the King Singers.
Christmas Day was wonderful. Mom, Dad, and I all emerged from our bedrooms at about 8AM (which is sleeping in for all of us) and opened presents. I got a blender, a heated blanket, the Blu-Ray of Pixar’s Up, a flash diffuser and remote trigger for my camera, a Kohl’s gift card, some really wonderfully plaid fleece pajama bottoms (that I’m wearing right now), and a case and some screen protectors for my Droid (DROOOOOID!). The award-winning present for the year, though, was the Elmer Fudd had that my mom got for my dad:
And in case you didn’t know what sexy looks like, here’s mom modeling the hat in her finest couture:
Unfortunately, shortly after taking this picture, one of the little loops on the hat broke and we had to return it–and the store didn’t have any replacements. But at least we have our memories. Then we had our traditional breakfast of Pillsbury Orange Rolls and Eggs, except we kicked
up the eggs a notch by turning them into a scramble with potatoes, peppers, onions, and sausage. I, of course, ate myself sick.
Later in the afternoon, Megan, Matt, and Aubrey came to visit. We all hopped in the car and drove over to the house of my dad’s Twin Brother™ and family, and I got to meet up with cousins I haven’t seen in years and years. We were a little concerned, because Aubrey doesn’t do particularly well with large groups of noisy strangers, and as you can imagine, we can get pretty loud when we get together. Aunt and Uncle had a full house as all of their kids and grandkids were together for the holiday. Nevertheless, Aubrey did really well, and we had a nice time visiting.
Christmas night, it was my turn to do the cooking. We had, as is tradition, Beef Tenderloin (also known as Fillet Mignon) with a peppercorn sauce, funeral potatoes, frog eye salad, rolls, green been casserole (spew!), and for dessert, the oft-mentioned and consumed Molten Chocolate Cake with, if you can believe it, Fleur de Sel Caramel Ice Cream. My sainted mother found the last three pints of the stuff in her local grocery store a few months ago, and saved it for me! (Best. Christmas. Ever!) We all ate ourselves sick.
Boxing day in our family is about one thing: After Christmas Deals. My mother, who has a sick wrapping paper fetish, usually goes out and buys about 700 rolls of wrapping paper, despite having mountains of paper already…including some of the ugliest wrapping paper known to mankind which she refuses to throw away despite the pleadings of her eldest son who obviously has much better taste in wrapping paper than she does. I had some Kohl’s cash to use up, so I got some replacement toothbrush heads for my electric toothbrush, some photo ornaments for my tree next year, and the cards I will be sending out next Christmas. We also stopped by *shudder* Wal-Mart, and fought the throngs for mom to agonize over which thoroughly unnecessary wrapping paper she wanted to get. (I tease, but despite the butt-ugliness of some of her wrapping paper, it’s nice to have the options when I am wrapping presents at home.)
Then I went out to breakfast with my cousin, Austin, who is my age and with whom I was very close growing up, and his wife, Anna. We went to the Star Cafe, a little dive in Layton that makes really good breakfasts. I had an omelet with bacon, peppers, onions, and cheese. It came with two scones. What people call scones in Utah aren’t the same thing as scones everywhere else. In most places, a scone is little more than a sweet biscuit. In Utah, a scone is like an elephant ear, but thicker. It’s deep fried dough, and it’s really, really good. Put a little bit of honey butter on one of these things, and you’ll think that you’ve died and gone to cholesterol heaven. As is often the case, I ate myself sick.
We visited for the rest of the afternoon, then mom, dad, and I spent the rest of the evening watching Up and enjoying each other’s company. We finished up the extra steaks from Christmas night, and I polished off a pint of Ice Cream. Then it was beddy-bye time. The next morning I was back on the plane to Seattle. I went grocery shopping, picked up the dog from the boarders, gave him a bath because he stank to high heaven, then had a wonderful dinner of Boeuf Bourguignon (don’t worry, I had to look up the spelling) followed by amazing candied apples and poached pears with homemade whipped cream at a neighbor’s holiday gathering. Then I went home, curled up with my heated blanked and my dog, and slept the sleep of the truly and fully content.
It was a wonderful holiday season full of friends, family, food, fun, and frippery. (I don’t even know what frippery is, I just needed another ‘f" word that wasn’t a swear, and I remembered this one from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.) I couldn’t have asked for a more enjoyable, peaceful, and relaxing time. I did make one decision during this blissful five days that I may regret–a decision that may cause me to look back upon this holiday season with fear and trepidation. But you’ll just have to wait to hear about that tomorrow.
Until then, I hope you and yours had a wonderful holiday season, and I hope you have an excellent new year.
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Every single year. Without fail. Every single year, I have to answer this stupid question. You mention that you always start putting up Christmas decorations on Halloween night because you don’t like Halloween, and there is a certain segment of the population that freaks right the hell out and asks (usually in a voice raised in both volume and pitch) "YOU CAN’T DO THAT! WHAT ABOUT THANKSGIVING?"![[tkgiv1+(4).JPG]](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_W-tPfvMT88E/RzInBtgiwwI/AAAAAAAAA4w/dK65FKD2xDY/s1600/tkgiv1%2B(4).JPG)
For starters, it is impossible to decorate for Thanksgiving without looking like you stepped out of the pages of Modern Amish Living. As far as I’m concerned, the phrase "Shabby Chic" should be removed from the lexicon forever and ever, as should the decoration style it describes. If I wanted my apartment to look like my grandmother’s barn, I would have decorated it that way. I, however like things classy and modern. And since I don’t have anywhere to put a piccaninny doll on an antique rocking chair, and I refuse to decorate with dried corn stalks, porcelain tchotchkes of Native American stereotypes, pilgrim caricatures, and stuffed turkey plushies, there’s not a lot left over.
Secondly, any holiday that embraces the colors of yellow, orange, and brown for decoration purposes is a holiday that I can’t allow into my decor. My color scheme is celery green and robin’s egg blue, with Espresso colored furniture. If I were to start putting orange, yellow, and brown on top of all of that, my house would look like it ate the 1970s, got decorational indigestion, and then had diarrhea across the living room. I won’t do it. It’s not going to happen.
Fourth. Let me tell you about what my standard Thanksgiving usually consists of. 1) Wake up at 8AM and take the dog for a walk in the rain. 2) At 11:30, hop in the car and drive to a restaurant in Seattle. 3) Eat a massive meal, sometimes by myself, sometimes with one other friend. 4) Drive Home. 5) Take a Nap. 6) Sit around the apartment bored out of my mind, playing video games, or watching movies. 7) Maybe talk on the phone with my family. Maybe. 8) Take the dog for another walk or two…usually in the rain. 9) Start playing Christmas Carols in anticipation of the most wonderful holiday of all time, when I will get to go home and be with my wonderful family and take a week and half off of work. See, I don’t have any family here, and it’s far too much effort to try and get home for just the Thanksgiving weekend, so I usually do Thanksgiving alone. I don’t mind it. In fact, I’m rather used to it. But I’m grateful I get to go home for Christmas.
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