Scenes from my best vacation ever

I got back a few days ago from a trip to Door County that ranks as the best vacation I've ever had, exotic tropical destinations included. I still can't bring myself to be anything but totally relaxed. After the craziness of the semester and moving, it was absolutely perfect. The clouds literally parted as we drove out of Madison Thursday afternoon, and the rest of the vacation continued to be sickeningly, poetically idyllic. I couldn't have written a script for the perfect vacation that was better than this one. Just a few pictures that don't even begin to capture the gloriousness ...

Sunset from campsite #49 at Calumet County Park on the way up Thursday night, a surprising and random find on the eastern shore of Lake Winnebago.

View from the canoe paddling in to our campsite at Newport, a wilderness state park on the northeastern tip of Door County. The paddling wasn't all this smooth. In fact, it was a little hairy at times. We were riding low with a cooler full of beer, firewood, drinking water, and two full-ish packs, and some of the waves came up over the bow. Needless to say, we arrived safe and exhilarated.


Our campsite straight out of a Disney movie - in a bay, view of Lake Michigan, and carpeted in forget-me-nots. Like I said, couldn't have written a script for this one ...

This was our shitter-with-a-view. Down a wildflower-strewn path from the campsite, with a beautiful view of Lake Michigan from the throne.

Our lunch spot on the paddle up the Mink River estuary. We found the spring source of the river. We saw turtles, a four-foot-long catfish, a crane family, and a marsh smoke monster-under-water that crashed through reeds at lightning speed. We're still trying to figure out what that was. We were escorted out of the river by the crane daddy after we got too close to momma and nest. Amazing. Then we had one helluva paddle into the wind and against capable-of-flipping-a-canoe waves across Rowley's Bay and back up the turn to our campsite. There may have been a wee bit of a mild hypothermia incident that evening, but I was well cared for, and we won't be so dumb next time. Epic paddle, dude.

This is the Washington Island Hotel where we stayed our last night. We missed the fancy-schmancy Friday and Saturday night dinners, but we were the only guests in the whole place on this early season Sunday! We caught the tail end of Sunday brunch and then had good wine, steam showers, and an amazing nap. Sunday night found us playing pool and drinking ginormous brandy old fashioneds in a townie bar with three older islanders. It was really, really hard to get out of that soft and historic bed the next day, so we stayed right until checkout time and then reluctantly headed home, stopping at a diner for fries and milk shakes on the way. Not at all surprisingly, it started getting cloudy again about 30 minutes out of Madison.

Best trip ever. Feeling incredibly blessed. Bodes well for an amazing summer.

Summer could potentially be awesome

In lieu of writing the papers I mustmustmust write right now, I've spent far too much time the last couple days figuring out how to make this summer AWESOME. So far, I:

• Figured out the majority of moving logistics, if it all works out for everyone else. I have an empty basement, a truck, helpers, and a week to pack and clean. Looks promising!
  
• Found a job that pays ridiculous amounts of money for doing case studies of farmers' cover cropping techniques. Doing two or three of these in June will pretty much cover what I earn as a TA. This means I won't need to get a real hourly job for the summer because my fellowship money comes in June, and I can start using some of my assistantship hours for next academic year in July.
• Got into an organic production class for the summer. Experience plus source of free food for the summer = awesome!
• Will (hopefully) have my research logistics for the summer figured out by the end of next week.
• Have an appointment to look at a room for the fall in a place a few blocks down the street from my current much loved place. The women sound great via email, so I'm hopeful that it will work out.
• Have been taking my magic knee pills and getting around relatively normally on my knee for the past couple weeks. Physical therapy starts next Thursday, and, if it goes well, I won't need surgery.

Of course all of this working out depends on two X factors:

• Actually finishing all the shit I need to finish for the semester in the next week.
• Finding a sublettor for our apartment for the summer so I can afford to do all of the above instead of getting a job.

Here's hoping ...

And the oddest text message of the month goes to ...

I just got a text inviting me to an ex-boyfriend's birthday party next weekend in his hometown up north. I haven't been in contact with him for over a year via email, much longer than that via phone. I deleted his number from my phone long ago, so I can't tell if the message was from his phone (either he or someone who stole his phone sent a message to everyone in his contact list?) or from someone else's phone (someone went through his contacts and manually entered every number in there? ... ugh). Barring either of those two options, I was intentionally invited to this party, which would be stunningly weird to me.

Wherever it came from, it was exceptionally odd.

Weather-whipped

The older I get, the more weather affects my mood. I used to be cheery or bitchy relatively independently of season, but now my character flows in sync with the seasons. I'm more serious, introspective, heads-down working, and, yes, prone to funks in the dark and cold of winter. In summer, I'm simultaneously more open, active, out there, doing, being, seeing, working, but also prone to more wandering and daydreaming and musing. The days seem so long and the warmth never-ending. Fall always feels like the new year to me - I'm plan-ful, purposeful, energetic, but in a more focused way than in other seasons.

And, ahhhh, now it's spring. Probably my least favorite of the seasons aesthetically. It's wet and damp and muddy and unpredictable. So, of course, that's exactly how I feel right now: wrung out, a little wet and dirty from being under the weight of dark and snow, prone to manic outbursts of angry weather. And yet ... if I sit, if I stop fighting, there's movement - not the frantic work of summer, nor the purposeful planning of fall, not the droning on of winter. It's a soft, perking movement - too soft to yet hear or feel, but my sixth sense gets it. It's there. It's real. Something is stirring. Something new is coming. A new fount of life and green, green energy will be within and without me soon. It's inexorable. It's coming.

This is good. I am tired, but I am hopeful. This is good. Spring is near. I will make it through this winter. This is good.

Trip to-dos

So, I'm going to Patagonia in less than a month. When I have more than 8 hours of sleep, I get giddy about this. When I have far, far less than 8 hours of sleep (95% of the time this month), I forget about this, or allow myself the occasional sleepy daydream en route to an office couch nap.

Given the sleep deprivation status, our trip planning duties thusfar have been divided up like this:
Her:

• Book plane tickets.
• Book hotel room.
• Pay for stuff.
• Get books from the library to research activities.
• Purchase gear.
• Make doctor's appointments.
• Etc., etc., blahblah practical stuff, etc.
  

Me:

• Say, "OMG, Patagonia is my favorite place in the world! I want to go back!" ad nauseum.
• Curse my now not-so-comfortable 10-year-old hiking boots.
• Try to remember how I picked up cute backpackers back when I was 20 and 25. Posit that, even if I remember, my previous methods might not work at the ripe old age of 31.
• Salivate over memories of that one meal in El Calafate, the one that I would have to name the single best meal of my life if forced to choose.
• Reassure myself that history will not repeat itself and result in severe knee injury when I once again attempt hard-core glacier hiking while out of shape.

So far, I'm digging how this works.

In need of ooomph

I have oh so much to do tonight, and oh so little oomph. I'm just done for the week. Strung out. Need a night alone to relax. Need 10 hours of sleep. Etc., etc., etc.

But, it's not gonna happen. Tomorrow, I have a test I haven't studied for, a short paper I haven't read for, much less written, two sections to teach that I haven't prepped or graded for. That's a full day's work to finish between now and 8 a.m. tomorrow. The weekend is packed solid - birthday party Friday night, brunch in the a.m. and brother and sister-in-law visiting Saturday during the day, making (!) gifts for party Saturday night (when?!), all-day plans 'til 4 on Sunday, and a mile-long list of work to fit in between all that.

I don't know if I can do this for two more weeks. Two days ago, I was all energy and positive sunshine. Now, I just want to curl up in a ball and hibernate. Sounds like I'm swinging with the weather. I hate whining, and I hate it even more when I'm producing the whining, but, dear Lord, I am whining right now (if only to myself and the internet).

Most likely, I just need a good night of sleep, and I'll be ready and re-perked to fight the good fight. Tonight, that won't happen. Tonight I work. I said that this would be the year I just need to put my head down and work. And I'm willing to do that. I am. I just want to breathe in between.

Ask and ye shall receive

Two summers ago, I quit my job, took a few months off, got a low-paying job at a non-profit, then a lower-paying one on a farm. Now, I'm in grad school. I've been much happier since I took that leap. That summer, though, my friend R.J. asked me how I liked being impoverished (relatively at the time, literally now, per U.S. government standards). I went on a bit of a diatribe about how Americans define poverty vs. the rest of the world, that I wasn't truly impoverished because I had a safety net in the form of family who could help and an education, good employment history, and local economy with available work to fall back on in case of emergency, etc., etc. After I got off my little soapbox, I answered, honestly, that I don't miss anything about money except the travel budget. I don't miss eating out, buying stuff, whatever. But, I was able to take a lot of fun trips while I was working at that one place where I made a lot of money: D.C., Boston, San Francisco, Denver, Hawaii, Bolivia, places I'm forgetting, too, along with innumerable weekend jaunts to Minneapolis, Chicago, Milwaukee, up nort' yah, camping, and more. That freedom was the only thing I've really missed in the last couple years, even though I've still been able to do quite a few shorter trips.

Last year roundabouts Christmas, I hadn't taken a "real" (read: non-weekend) trip for a year-and-a-half and had no prospects for any in the near future. I was feeling superbly antsy and wanderlusty about that. Then, G-Love got me a ticket to go to Amsterdam for his birthday. Awesomeness ensued.

This year, feeling roundabouts the same way and wondering if I could swing a roadtrip to visit my cousins for spring break, a fairy godmother comes by at the end of a sick-filled, sleepless weekend and says, "Hey, I need someone to go with me on sabbatical. Wanna go to Chile?" Well, let me think ... Hell, yes. In a week or two when I de-stress and sleep, that answer will be more like,
HELL YES!

For now, I'll continue to be grateful to my fairy godmother, my free trip karma, my former employer's sabbatical policy (read: they pay for stuff), and the universe's support of this superficially irresponsible but cosmically blessed journey into school and, maybe, what I'm really meant to be doing.

Morning ode

Ode to cinnamon toast. It is God's gift to people who are obsessed with cinnamon rolls but don't want to weigh 600 pounds.

Ode to coffee. It is, simply, God's gift.

Wheedling

My internal conversation trying to talk myself into not having a cold is not going well.

I kind of feel like the abusive boyfriend manipulating his victim back into subservience after he hit her again:

Come on, baby. I didn't mean it, I swear. I've been under a lot of stress, you know. It's just been a long week, baby. I didn't mean nothing by it, baby. But, you know I get upset when you complain like that! You know I like to get my sleep, and I get upset when you're up coughing and wheezing all night. I know you got a headache, baby. I'm sorry. Listen, how 'bout we get you some of those Advil you like. How 'bout that, baby? You like that don't you? Oooh, and green tea, honey! That's your favorite. I'll even put a little lemon and honey in there for you, sweet pea. Nothin' too good for my baby. Just don't worry, baby, I'll take care of you. I love you, baby. You're the only one for me, y'know? You just got to keep quiet, make sure everything's straightened up in here when I get home, and I'll take care of you. I know I ain't been around much lately. I promise we'll get all kinds of time to sleep together this weekend, baby. Don't you worry 'bout a thing, darling.

Or, maybe it's more like labor negotiations between the mind's management team and the body's union reps:

Negotiations have broken down between management and the union this morning. The body is calling for reduced working hours, less caffeine, more fresh air and exercise, and reduced stress. The body says it is prepared to strike at any time if their demands are not met. Management reps said they are prepared to bring in scabs to break the strike, at least until February 23rd when the company delivers its biggest customer order of the year so far. To reinvigorate negotiations, the government has sent in third-party mediators, including industry experts Citrus and Sudafed. Mediators are confident that both parties will agree to a nap concession by later this afternoon so that negotiations remain open.

Last night, I Relaxed.

That capital "R" is intentional. This was Relaxation, not just relaxation.

The past couple weeks have been amazing in both quantity and quality. Good things and bad things are happening at a speed and magnitude that I can barely comprehend, much less act upon. So far, I'm keeping my head above water and maybe even making some upstream progress. If this had come at me during the last two months of last semester when I was physically and mentally Done, I would've drowned immediately. I have another two or three weeks of this pace before I hopefully return to normal levels of semester-crazy. Until then, I need to both keep moving forward and maintain some semblance of mental and physical health. Last night I found out how much Relaxation-with-a-capital-R helps.

On the bus ride home last night, I had a litany in my head: Clean to get ready for guests. 2 hours-ish? Get the bacon out of the freezer for brunch. Call sister-in-law. E-mail students who still aren't registered (again!). Cut up cheese and apples for snacks for game night. Drop off milk jar at the cooler for Sunday's milk. Take back too-big Christmas clothes to store and buy vinegar on way to party. Eat! Do I need to eat? Grab snack before leaving! Get to party by 8, have precisely two hours of fun, come home, sleep for 6 hours, get up, tomorrow's list. GOGOGOGOGO. GOTTA DO ALL THIS IN THREE HOURS.

This is a pretty accurate reflection of what my mind has been doing the past couple weeks, only this was a more relaxed weekend version compared to the weekday version.

I got home, sat my pile of stuff on the bed, and promptly ... fell into a coma on top of it. Drooling, dazed sleep for two solid hours. With neck crinked at a 90 degree angle on a backpack. Ahhhhhh. I woke up in a panic, frantically started gathering stuff and changing to run out of the house, re-calculating tomorrow's schedule to get up at 5 instead of 7 so I could clean-read articles-wash rugs-send out section syllabi-download paper research-run errands before my guests arrived and the next bout of officially sanctioned fun started.

Then, I stopped to breathe and decided I was insane. My red-eyed, frantic self was going to be no fun either tonight or tomorrow if I didn't calm down and get some sleep. But, I was pretty wound up by then and wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon. So, I cleaned. Well. For three solid hours. It's been weeks, since I took the tree down, I think. Much needed. Cleaning always calms me. There are no more salt piles and footprints in my entry way. My couches are vacuumed and my blinds and baseboards are dusted. My worms are freshly newspaper-ed. Most importantly, my tub is squeaky-shiny clean.

After I cleaned, I was hyper and needed to wind down, but figured I had about an hour before I crashed. (My internal clocks for Time from Hungry to Psycho Bitch and Time from Exhausted to Completely Incoherent are very accurate.) The shiny clean tub called to me. So did the bottle of wine. As did the opportunity to watch my one must-see show (Lost) that I missed this week.

How to choose? I didn't. I poured some wine, filled up the tub, lit some candles, and cued up Lost on my laptop. With my laptop balanced on the toilet and my body sunk into bubbles, I drank wine, watched my show, and slipped into utter, skin-pruning stuporous bliss. I barely stayed awake to blow out the candles, drain the tub, and stumble into bed. I slept for a solid 7 hours, longest stretch this week.

This morning, I popped out of bed at 6 a.m. feeling like solid gold, like maybe I can actually do this again next week. I can only hope ... and relax.

Monday, on balance

- Overslept, didn't get 1.2 million things done before I left, causing angst about dirty house and lack of groceries for local cooking night and lack of prep for scary meeting with professor.
+ I make a damn good cup of coffee.
+ I'm a lot less tired than I was last week.
- This will last until exactly tonight when I stay up late trying to get all the undone stuff done.
+ Found a group for a group project in one of my classes, pretty sure I can talk them into doing the topic I want to do because I need to do the research for something else anyway.
+ Scary meeting with professor did not end in my death.
- Scary meeting with professor did involve me feeling terrible and him being curt and disappointed instead of his usual friendly self. (Rightfully so - I screwed up. I'm just terrible at having people angry at me.)
- I have only two weeks to totally rewrite a 30-page paper and do some other extra stuff while I'm already drowning.
- There are some unidentified, potentially scary lumps in my family. Happy thoughts and prayers welcome. Should have more news by Friday. Waiting sucks.
+ Lunch makes me happy.
_____
+1 so far. Not bad for a Monday.

The cuteness, it hurts.

A video of the kidlets from a few weekends ago. Ignore the bad video quality and obnoxious high-pitched voice of the aunt. Observe the cuteness. And the unbridled joy of jumping off a step and running around with a blanket on your head.

Closer to becoming a person who walks around with headphones stuck in my ears

Along with other students of life and sociology, I've often been one to jump on the bandwagon when people complain about how individualistic our society has become. No wonder we no longer have community! No wonder society's structures are crumbling! We do everything in our power every day to insulate ourselves from one another. We've arranged our lives so that we no longer have to depend on anyone for anything. We spend our hours with our heads glued to various glowing screens, interacting with no living thing or natural light. We build our homes with bigger private spaces (everybody must have their own bedroom and bathroom!) and smaller shared spaces. Kids have TVs in their rooms so the family never has to decide together what to watch. When we are forced into public spaces with others - public transportation, coffee shops, or just a walk down the street - we tend to look straight ahead, brow furrowed, mind on the last conversation or the next destination, noise blocked out by the rockin' "Monday AM Bus Ride" playlist on the iPod.

I've lamented all of this and in various ways tried to combat the tendency within myself and my little sphere of the world. I bitch at people who whip out their phone or Blackberry when I'm talking to or eating with them. My gatherings usually involve talking with and eating with others instead of facing in the same direction to worship the glowing screen. I say "hi" to the bus driver and the people who sit next to me on the bus. I make eye contact with people on the street. More fundamentally, I've chosen to live in a place where I can take the bus and walk down a street where I see actual people so I can do these things. I like talking to crazy strangers and old people. Etc. Etc. Etc.

I recently experienced the people who make our society laugh at my little mission, the people who could very likely drive me to abandon my ideals and stick headphones in my ears and plaster myself in front of the TV. It was late, tail end of a 14-hour day of chaos on campus with a few more hours of class prep to do when I got home. And, of course, I was hungry. If you know me, you will understand the import of that statement. I am the Psycho Bitchcat from Hell when I am hungry. It is a situation to be avoided, but the snackies in my backpack had run out about 12 hours into the day.

I sat down and got out my knitting and willed myself home to my pesto. The girl to my left gets our her phone. "Hey, what are you doing? ... (now yelling) WHAT? YOU CAN'T HEAR ME? I'M ON THE BUS! SHOULD BE HOME IN TEN MINUTES OR SO. I WAS CALLING TO SEE WHAT YOU WANTED FOR DINNER. .... WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR DINNER?! ... OK, WELL YOU THINK ABOUT IT AND CALL ME BACK WHEN YOU DECIDE." 30 seconds later, her phone rings. Obnoxious ring tone. "Hey! ... HEY! ... -insert long, drawn-out, YELLED conversation about which restaurant to order take out from and what kind of rice she wanted-." Two minutes after this joyful exchange, she got off the bus, presumably near home. Was that entire ordeal necessary, for them or us?

Meanwhile, two seats behind me, another guy got a call. Before the woman hung up, he was drowned out, but his fascinating treatise came through loud and clear once she quit yelling. His voice sounded exactly like Kip's in Napoleon Dynamite when he was talking about LaFawnduh. A little lispy, a little whiny. And he spoke ? in that cadence ? like this ? where he stopped ? after few words ? with an emphasis ? and higher pitch ? on the last word ? like he was asking a question ? or pausing ? for someone ? to say ? "and then ..." ? The rhythm was torture to listen to. And what story was he regaling the crowd with? He had a dream. He woke up in someone's house and like there were some sort of monsters flying above him and like at first I was scared and intimidated but then there were colors and ohmigod THEN like Mindy showed up like out of nowhere. YES MINDY. Etc., etc. For five minutes straight, without pausing, completely nonsensical.

All this in a 20-minute bus ride. I felt a little violence rising up the back of my spine, which was already coiled with stress. I breathed it back down, but, oh my, it was exhausting. I'm sure this is very, very mild compared to what people in major urban areas riding crowded commuter trains put up with every day. And so my fellow beings of this overcrowded earth, I'll no longer make generalizations about you and your headphone use. Maybe you just can't handle a Kip or a YELLER in your day. I just might join you sometimes ... especially when I'm hungry.

Cleaning out the feed reader

On the eve of classes starting, I'm frantically doing all of the things I should've gotten done the last two weeks. It's going to be a long night.

That said, one of the fun things on the list is cleaning out my delicious links list - nuking stuff that I don't care to look at again, re-tagging things to consolidate, general anal reorganization that makes my sad little soul sing.

Highlights from the now defunct 'toblog' tag that are still worth linking to, with some entries dating back more than six months:

• So, this is what it feels like to be inspired? A slightly dated but accurate take on the Obama election, appropriate on the eve of the inauguration.
• Best mugshots evar. Good for a chuckle.
• My favorite soapbox: Local is better, and it's not just about carbon.
• Clearly.

An odd juncture in life

I just came home with a short, strapless, leopard-print dress to wear for New Year's. I then looked in the mirror and commenced plucking three stray grays from my hairline. Oh, how I love thee, 31.

It's going to be a good year.

Ridiculously expensive long johns have revolutionized my life

After a few too many cold waits at bus stops and walks around a wind-whipped campus, I'm now prepared for January. My Christmas present to me was a trip to REI to replace the water bottle and gloves I lost and to get some non-itchy, non-cotton long johns. I always choke on the price of undergarments, but I grudgingly threw down $35-40 apiece for two bottoms and another $35 for a top.

It may have been the best money I've spent all year. Seriously. I'm not cold. They don't make my dry skin itch. Windy schmindy. Bring on the kiddies and the sledding and the snow and 20 below! I can turn down the thermostat even farther! (My poor Floridian roommate might not think this is a plus of the Miraculous Long Johns.)

I think I might have a crush on winter again.

Merry Christmas!

Cynical, aging, practical or pathetic?

The first in what could become a series. You decide! Does the following make me:
a) cynical?
b) aging?
c) practical?
d) pathetic?

I was far more conscientious about shaving for my first appointment with my new lady parts doctor today than I have been for any date in recent memory.

Please suggest ...

... your recommendations for the following, to help me numb my tired brain over break:

• good movies - past or current. The only ones I've seen recently are Juno and Rachel Getting Married (both excellent, for anyone else who's been living in a cave). That's about my average, so if you suggest a rental from previous years, chances are I haven't seen it.
• good books - anything but scientific journal articles, bad romance, and chick lit.
• a TV show I should rent seasons of on DVD - anything but Lost.

My tired, tattered brain matter and complete pop culture ignorance thank you for your input.

How tomorrow will be different than the days before it

• I will sleep. 12, 14, 16, uncountable hours of sleepful bliss.
• I will nap. A serious one with the blanket thrown over the window to block the light. Earplugs in. Phone off. 3+ hours. Guaranteed drooling. No alarm.
• I will eat. Three meals at expected times of the day. Each meal will consist of items from multiple food groups. No meal will consist entirely of Christmas cookies or coffee. There may be sushi involved.
• I will bathe. Luxuriously and warmly with bubbles and candles and music and daydreaming. Not coldly, intermittently, slapdashedly, bad-hair-inducingly.
• I will do. I will cross do-able things off a miles-long "to do before going home for Christmas" to-do list. Things that are easy, that I know how to do, that can be accomplished in a matter of minutes or hours instead of days. Things for which I receive immediate gratification and results. Things over which I do not procrastinate for almost as long as the task itself takes to do.
• I will talk. To people. Several, maybe many. Happily, joyfully, with my whole mind right here. Coherently, featuring complete sentences uninterrupted by caffeine-induced synapse jumps to random topics. I will return emails and answer my phone and be kind and fun and lovely again.
• I will walk. Aimlessly. Far. In knee deep snow. Somewhere quiet. To numbness or exhaustion. Possibly pre-nap.
• I will unhinge my shoulders from my ears and stretch my fingers away from a keyboard.
• I will write. Something that I want to write, not something I must write. Hopefully in the form of Christmas letters.
• I will feel good about this thing I've done. Am doing. Instead of being mad at myself for what I didn't get done, or done well enough. Or feeling guilty for what I am doing or should be doing instead. I will feel good about the students who liked my class, liked me, did well, learned something, or at least thought about something in a new way. About all of the things I've learned. I will feel good that I survived my first semester of grad school. That I now know a million things to change to do it better next time.
• I will sit. No book. No whirling thoughts. Definitely no computer. Not even knitting. No radio. No TV. No one. I will wrap myself in my great-grandmother's afghan, take off my glasses, and stare at my fuzzy, glowy tree. And I will be grateful. So, so calm and grateful.
• And then I will sleep again.

But none of that will happen until I finish this last %@#$%#$%@ # paper. The thread I'm hanging onto is unraveling. I am so, so tired. Just a few more hours. Focus.

Because I never blog anymore, I'll link to someone who does ...

This might be the funniest thing I've seen this year. What a way to start the holidays off right.