Hayley and Dan's Visit in Pictures, Which Equal About 37,000 Words At Least

Hayley and Dan took some of the better pictures here. The woods, I believe, Hayley took, the sunset series, Dan. Anyway. Just giving credit where it's due. Enjoy!

Bean Trees

My favorite paragraph in the whole book, is this one, on page 209:

It's also interesting how it's hard to be depressed around a three-year-old, if you're paying attention. After a while, whatever you're mooning about begins to seem like some elaborate adult invention.

That's The Bean Trees, by Barbara Kingsolver, a book I picked up for a quarter at Half Price Books some time last summer and just now got around to reading. The reviews on the cover say it's a breath of fresh air. That is corny, but it's actually 100% true. I read this book in less than a week, and also managed to ride my bicycle at least four times, work full time, do laundry and chores and packing for moving, go for a few walks, go to the grocery store, etc.

The point is I was really into the book. Because sometimes it takes me months to read a book. (Great Expectations, anyone?) But not this one.

In other news, Mike and I are going to make a road trip as soon as time permits. Mike has been doing really well making aquarium scenes and butterfly garden scenes in glass, and his latest is jellyfish. Those things are so popular. We are going to drive up the coast and sell them as we go. Once you show the art galleries Mike's stuff they call you for more. He just needed someone business savvy like myself (compared to Mike Warren, the artist, I am business savvy, y'all) to push his product. It's starting to take off again. He just wants to be able to always focus on his work/art and let me do the promoting. All I really have to do is show it to people, it promotes the hell out of itself. It's really amazing stuff. This man has talent. And I love all the fun jewelry I get to wear and pick out the best of, since I'm his model and his muse (and slightly full of it).

Speaking of my job, I have been working full time at the non-profit that provides grant moneys for other non-profits in the area. It has been one of the most challenging, if not the most challenging jobs I've ever had to learn. I nearly walked out about five hundred times, I cried about half that much. But now I'm starting to really get the hang of it. And I'm finding myself to be really enjoying my work. Most of the time. It is still a job, after all.

But anyway, all of that just to find myself in a state of dire indecision once again. The reason is because my Festival job, which was supposed to be only temporary through July, and then I would potentially be hired back on in November, but then before we ever got that far, the Foundation job (that's the non-profit at which I'm currently working) came along and it was permanent, long-term, great benefits, blah blah blah, all the things a responsible adult would snap up in a second if offered to her. Well, I apparently did such a great job at the Festival office, and also loved it to pieces, let's just be honest here, that they are interested in making me a permanent fixture of the company. They are working towards budgeting to be able to afford me. It would still be a pay-cut from the Foundation job, and the Foundation job is a pay-cut from what I made in Wisconsin, but I'm not making enough money to be working for the money anyway. Also, the Festival job (which is a non-profit as well, just to make this more confusing) would allow for me to work on Mike's and my business, as the goal is to open our own store one day. There is really no flexibility for that at the Foundation job.

Well anyway, both jobs are fantastically amazing and challenging in their own special way and the answer of which to choose has not yet come to me. I am hoping it will come to me sooner or later, as I will have to make a choice around that time. In the moment I'm just biding my time doing the best that I can working the job that I am. And that's all anybody can really expect of a person, anyway, right, including that person.

I read an article in the North Coast Journal that states most news articles that start with an "I" are "drivel." I think that means most of what I write is drivel, news article or not.

Happy Trails, ye faithful readers, I am off to ride my bicycle again. And then it's back to moving. We are paid up for this month at both places which allows us to move at our leisure, which is really an oxymoronic phrase, but you get the point. Even after having gotten rid of so much stuff when I moved out here, I still seem to have too much. So we are going to work on getting rid of more unnecessary things. (Every time I write the word "unnecessary" I have to look it up because I can never remember which letter is not doubled. I write it with two n's, two c's, two s's, and then decide that doesn't look right and take out one n, then one s, then look it up, and 'oh yeah, it's the c, one c'. EVERY TIME!)

I will email my new address out to folks shortly. Oh yeah, and the Wisconsin phone number is no more. I've canceled it. There is no way to service it out here unless I can wait until 2008 for Cingular Wireless to become AT&T and buy out Edge Wireless, or some such nonsense. Frankly, paying $70 a month for a number I can't use until next year seems foolish. So alas, after 7+ years with the same phone number, it has been retired. I've emailed people my new number, which is Mike's number, and I believe we may get a house phone eventually, but if you need my phone number, please contact me for it, THANK YOU!

Cheers.

Moving, AGAIN.

Today, we signed an apartment lease! So regardless of my homesickness, I'm here for at least another year. We are moving into our new apartment, in Bayside, this weekend.

It was an awesome relief to be done with the apartment search and be able to move onto the next phase.

Then we realized the next phase is actually packing up and moving, and unpacking and settling in. Again.

I hate moving. Why can't I never remember this!? Well we have the cutest, coziest two-bedroom apartment, and I am really looking forward to setting up my house again and having MY SPACE, OK our space. But it will be so nice, that's all I'm saying.

Oh, I'm also saying that we rode our bicycles after work today. About a six mile bicycle ride, and the same or a bit more yesterday, if my map-using skills are worth the keyboard I'm typing this on.

Which I have no idea if they are. Especially since Mike stared at the map and figured out how far we went while I sat next to him reading my book.

But that's not the point. The point is that after a really hard work day, a Monday no less, I could have been my usual tired lazy self. Instead I remembered Mike's desire to go for a bike ride again the next day, and suggested we do that. And we did. It's just that simple. Today, anyway.

This is a Picture I Really Like

...because it illustrates that Mike really has a face, and it's a good one:




So today we rode our bikes for about two to three hours and ate our packed lunches and had a grand ol' time. I hadn't ridden my bicycle in quite a long time and it felt good to be out on it. I forgot my camera, else I'd have pictures. We rode over one of the Samoa bridges that connects Eureka to Woodley Island across the bay (that's Humboldt Bay, not to be confused with The Bay, which is San Francisco Bay), and looked at all the sailboats in the marina. There was one called Good News. We were going to ride our bikes over Bridges 2 and 3, but it was so terribly windy up there on the bridge and Mike didn't want to overdo it on our first attempt to bike to the beach and then have me never do it again. I thought he was just being silly/overly cautious but by the time we got back home, my sore knees realized that he was right and I was grateful that he took that care with me. There was quite a lovely view of the bay from the top of the first bridge, and meandering around the marina on our bicycles was pleasant. We stopped in the Eureka "Old Towne Square" to eat our lunch that Mike packed.

Tomorrow after work if we are both up to it and the weather is less windy we are going to attempt the second and third bridges as well as the first and actually see if we can make it to the beach. The key around here is that if it is windy on the bay, and definitely a bit more inland than that, then you don't even want to attempt to go to the beach, where you are likely to get blown right over and away.

We got home around 3PM and played about fifty games of Mancala. We are at about a tie, I think. OK, Mike wins more than me, but it's because he counts and I try, but I get too lazy to keep it up.

Now I'm going to bed. I just wanted to show a more recent picture of Mike as he was looking all fluffy in the last post and his beard isn't quite so huge these days.

Long Overdue Picture Blog - A Cool Evening at the Beach Back in June

More pictures to follow, I've got Blues by the Bay, Hayley and Dan's visit, lots and lots more! But first, Mike and I are going to finally ride our bikes to the beach, because it is a beautifully sunny day and we need the fresh air.

My Favorite Chapter from Great Expectations

...is Chapter 55. There are so many components to this story that it is impossible to pick only one favorite, yet this part made me laugh out loud and smile so many times through reading it. A lot of this book made me laugh really. It is quite clever. I am not sure if this will make sense without a leadup, but I don't want to spoil it by trying to explain it, so we'll see how it goes.

A few things it might help for those of you who have not read Great Expectations to know: The main character is "Pip" and Pip is the one telling the narrative in the first person. "Wemmick" is a very serious and private character whom Pip knows through a business arrangement. There are two sides to Wemmick; the person he is at work in front of his boss, an infamous defense attorney called "Mr. Jaggers," and the person he allows Pip to see, since they have become sort of friends. Also, Pip refers to Wemmick's very wide mouth as "the post-office," as it reminded him of such when he first made Wemmick's acquaintance. Also, the "Aged" is Wemmick's elderly father, AKA "Aged Parent," AKA "Aged P." Miss Skiffins is a lady Wemmick has been secretly seeing. Walworth is the town where Wemmick lives, and Little Britain is where Wemmick works. It'll all make sense as you read, I promise.

So now, I think you are caught up. Here is the Excerpt:

I invited Wemmick to come up stairs, and refresh himself with a glass of grog before walking to Walworth. He accepted the invitation. While he was drinking his moderate allowance, he said, with nothing to lead up to it, and after having appeared rather fidgety:

"What do you think of my meaning to take a holiday on Monday, Mr. Pip?"

"Why, I supoose you have not done such a thing these twelve months."

"These twelve years, more likely," said Wemmick. "Yes. I'm going to take a holiday. More than that; I'm going to take a walk. More than that; I'm going to ask you to take a walk with me."

I was about to excuse myself, as being but a bad companion just then, when Wemmick anticipated me.

"I know your engagements," said he, "and I know you are out of sorts, Mr. Pip. But if you could oblige me, I should take it as a kindness. It ain't a long walk, and it's an early one. Say it might occupy you (including breakfast on the walk) from eight to twelve. Couldn't you stretch a point and manage it?"

He had done so much for me at various time, that this was very little to do for him. I said I could manage it - would manage it - and he was so very much pleased by my acquiescense, that I was pleased too. At his particular request, I appointed to call for him at the Castle as half-past eight on Monday morning, and so we parted for the time.

Punctual to my appointment, I rang at the Castle gate on the Monday morning, and was received by Wemmick himself: who struck me as looking tighter than usual, and having a sleeker hat on. Within, there were two glasses of rum-and-milk prepared, and two biscuits. The Aged must have been stirring with the lark, for, glancing into the perspective of his bed-room, I observed that his bed was empty.

When we had fortified ourselves with the rum-and-milk and biscuits, and were going out for the walk with that training preparation on us, I was considerably surprised to see Wemmick take up a fishing-rod, and put it over his shoulder. "Why, we are not going fishing!" said I. "No, returned Wemmick, "but I like to walk with one."

I thought this odd; however, I said nothing, and we set off. We went towards Camberwell Green, and when we were therabouts, Wemmick said suddenly:

"Halloa! Here's a church!"

There was nothing very surprising in that; but again, I was rather surprised, when he said, as if he were animated by a brilliant idea:

"Let's go in!"

We went in, Wemmick leaving his fishing-rod in the porch, and looked all around. In the meantime, Wemmick was diving into his coat-pockets, and getting something out of paper there.

"Halloa! said he. "Here's a couple of pair of gloves! Let's put 'em on!"

As the gloves were white kid gloves, and as the post-office was widened to its utmost extent, I now began to have my strong suspicions. They were strengthened into certainty when I behld the Aged enter at a side door, escorting a lady.

"Halloa!" said Wemmick. "Here's Miss Skiffins! Let's have a wedding."

That discreet damsel was attired as usual, except that she was now engaged in substituting for her green kid gloves, a pair of white. The Aged was likewise occupied in preparing a similar sacrifice for the altar of Hymen. The old gentleman, however, experienced so much difficulty in getting his gloves on, that Wemmick found it necessary to put him with his back against a pillar, and then to get behind the pillar himself and pull away at them, while I for my part held the old gentleman round the waist, that he might present an equal and safe resistance. By dint of this ingenious scheme, his gloves were got on to perfection.

The clerk and clergyman then appearing, we were ranged in order at those fatal rails. True to his notion of seeming to do it all without preparation, I heard Wemmick say to himself as he took something out of his waistcoat-pocket before the service began, "Halloa! Here's a ring!"

I acted in capacity of backer, or best-man, to the bridegroom; while a little limp pew-opener, in a soft bonnet like a baby's, made a feint of being the bosom friend of Miss Skiffins. The responsibility of giving the lady away devolved upon the Aged, which led to the clergyman's being unintentionally scandalized, and it happened thus. When he said, "Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?" the old gentleman, not in the least knowing what point of the ceremony we had arrived at, stood most amiably beaming at the ten commandments. Upon which, the clergyman said again, "WHO giveth this woman to be married to this man?" The old gentleman being still in a state of most estimable unconsciousness, the bridegroom cried out, in his accustomed voice, "Now Aged P. you know; who giveth?" To which the Aged replied with great briskenss before saying that he gave, "All right, John, all right, my boy!" And the clergyman came to so gloomy a pause upon it, that I had doubts for the moment whether we should get completely married that day.

It was completeley done, however, and when we were going out of church, Wemmick took the cover off the font, and put his white gloves in it, and put the cover on again. Mrs. Wemmick, more heedful of the future, put her white gloves in her pocket and assumed her green. "Now, Mr. Pip," said Wemmick, triumphantly shouldering the fishing-rod as we came out, "let me ask you whether anybody would suppose this to be a wedding party!"

Breakfast had been ordered at a pleasant littler tavern, a mile or so away upon the rising ground beyond the green; and there was a bagatelle board in the room, in case we should desire to unbend our minds after the solemnity. It was pleaseant to observe that Mrs. Wemmick no longer unwound Wemmick's arm when it adapted itself to her figure, but sat in a high-backed chair against the wall, like a violoncello in its case, and submitted to be embraced as that melodious instrument might have done.

We had an excellent breakfast, and when any one declined anything on table, Wemmick said, "Provided by contract, you know; don't be afraid of it!" I drank to the new couple, drank to the Aged, drank to the Castle, saluted the bride at parting, and made myself as agreeable as I could.

Wemmick came down to the door with me, and I again shook hands with him, and wished him joy.

"Thankee!" said Wemmick, rubbing his hands. "She's such a manager of fowls, you have no idea. You shall have some eggs, and judge for yourself. I say, Mr. Pip!" calling me back, and speaking low. "This is altogether a Walworth sentiment, please."

"I understand. Not to be mentioned in Little Britain," said I.

Wemmick nodded. "After what you let out the other day, Mr. Jaggers may as well not know of it. He might think my brain was softening, or something of the kind."

Homesick

I have been pretty homesick since I moved out here. I try to be as positive as possible about it. I will survive. I will be disappointed in myself if I give up and move back home. Each passing month gets a bit easier. But I still really miss Wisconsin more than I can even begin to explain. I miss all my family's faces. I miss the familiar. I miss what I know. I miss feeling like I belong somewhere. Though I'm not sure that I felt I belonged there either.

Don't worry, this isn't really a pity party. It's just my raw honesty.

I hope you all don't forget about me until years from now I'm just a distant vague memory of a strange and intriguing (or is that strangely intriguing) girl you once knew. Is that what you choose when you move 2000 miles away from your hometown? I really hope not.

Apartment Shopping and Ant Igloos of Death!

So we are full force apartment shopping. We really wanted this little blue house we found and could actually afford. But alas, the owner decided the fair thing to do was accept the first qualified applicant, though she assured us we were qualified, just not the first one.

We haven't found anything as cool, and it's getting increasingly hard essentially living in a college town and having the college students filter back in and snag every decent and affordable place. And still, we press on. Because I gotta get out of this house I'm in. I need my own space, sans roommates (except Mikey, he can stay).

So this evening I noticed a long trail of ants underneath the desk in our bedroom. ICK. So we go to the store and get some ant traps. There are literally hundreds of them. Ants, not traps. The four tiny ant traps look like little igloos. Mike put one under the desk.

"Stop obsessing on the ants," he says a few minutes later. I guess I was staring at them or something, daring them to go into the igloo of death.

There are so many other things I could have just posted about that are way more interesting, and yet I "obsessed" on the ants. Oh, well.

Here's something interesting; I'm actually going to finish Great Expectations! That book is long! And I'll admit I wasn't reading it everyday. But I'm nearing the end. Like the last 20 pages or so! And then I get to read another book, which is so exciting.

Oh yeah, but back to apartment shopping. It's tough here in Humboldt. I never had such a hard time finding a place as I have here. Rent seems relatively inexpensive around here, so that's not the issue. But the second something is listed in the paper, someone snatches it up. We have circled and driven by and called on so many places just to be told that it "just got rented." I mean, how do you get that edge? Does someone have an inside connection in the Classifieds or something?

All we can do is keep on keepin' on. Hope you are too.

Here's My First Experience in Festival Production Blog Post

So last weekend was the Blues Festival here in Humboldt for which I was the assistant director. It was a smalltime festival, as far as festivals go, but still bigger than anything I've ever put on before. I worked 82 hours last week alone. It was intense, amazing, crazy, challenging, wonderful, unexpected, thrilling, exhausting, eye-opening, successful, flattering, educational, brilliant. It was so much more than the adjectives I'm struggling to find to describe this experience.

We are still working on the numbers, but at this point we are looking at 2500 to 3000 people in attendance which was a pretty good turnout. The artists and bands were incredible, though I was running around for so much of it that I heard the music but didn't really hear the music. I was able to stand backstage and catch glimpses of some/most of the performances, but there were a few artists that I wish I could have seen their whole shows, like Corey Harris for one, and Zac Harmon for another. I've been promised a copy of the whole performance, so I really hope that I do get that and have a chance to really listen to and appreciate the musical talent.

Speaking of the musical talent, did I already mention it was incredible? The down-to-earthiness of these people was incredible as well. I met many of the bands and artists (there were 12 bands spanning over two days) and they were just such nice low-key chill people. It was a blast. As a matter of fact, a highlight for me was when one of our artists, Guitar Shorty, invited me to dinner. The director and his girlfriend, as well as our stage manager and of course my Mikey, came too. He even posed in pictures with me, which I'll of course post (he said I could - I asked him). That's Shorty, not Mikey. You see Mikey in pictures with me all the time, Sillies.

Now perhaps only true blues fans know who Guitar Shorty is. But this man is a living legend. At dinner we learned he got his start with the likes of Ray Charles. On a semi-unrelated note, I also learned that he is headed for Dodgeville, WI, though I do believe that is not until 2008. And that a month ago he played in a little town in Wisconsin that starts with a D, but not Dodgeville. It was not Deerfield or DeForest either. I'll have to brush up on my D-town, Wisconsin geography apparently. I'm probably forgetting a big one and am a d-d-d-dummy, no make that with a capital Dummy.

I feel like attempting to write this down and give it some level of due it deserves is pretty much impossible. But I can't just not tell you guys about it. This has been my whole summer and it finally reached its pinnacle. I'm glad I take photographs because they can speak volumes when I cannot.

And I'll also point out that though I made some awesome friends whom I hope to have for life, I wish my friends back home could have been there too! And because I'm a "foodie" I have to mention that the man who did the hospitality made some of the best food I've ever eaten, even if I never had time to really sit down and eat it like a normal person. I still got to grab a plate here and there.

So anyway I'm just now starting to recover. I'm looking forward, already, to next weekend, when I can just relax for a moment. I haven't had a lazy day in quite a while.

In other news, we are apartment shopping, and now that I'm done with the blues festival (this week is my last week at the office) I'm going full time at my other job. I have a lot of learning to do there is well. The crazy ride ain't over yet. Probably never will be. And that lazy weekend I'm looking forward to, well, there's apartment shopping to do, so yeah, never mind on that lazy weekend. With any luck we'll have our own place before the HSU students come back for the fall semester.

And of course, as I always say lately, I will post some photo album blogs soon. I have a lot of pictures to show y'all.

Regina Spektor did a cover of this song which they just played on the radio and I love the words to it so much.

Little Boxes by Malvina Reynolds

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky,
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses
All went to the university,
Where they were put in boxes
And they came out all the same,
And there's doctors and lawyers,
And business executives,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry,
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school,
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university,
Where they are put in boxes
And they come out all the same.

And the boys go into business
And marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.





PLUS the radio stations out here play the best songs.

The Things We Take For Granted...

This is HUGE, because you don't appreciate what you have sometimes until you don't: My CAR HAS FOUR WINDOWS, glass and all! No more plastic and duct tape! It's soooo beautiful.

Also, the ladies at the auto glass place are from Wisconsin too and they recognized my accent.

Blues Festival Update

Mike is making pretty glass things for his vendor booth that he and his buddies Gabe and Ryan are having at "my" Blues Festival. I'm sitting next to him for moral support and important design suggestions that he most likely ignores. I'm also modeling one of his recent pendants, which is like his Humboldt County Goo Ball marble style, incorporated into a pendant. It's pretty kickass.

The festival is next weekend, the 14th and 15th, and I'm both nervous and excited. Starting tomorrow, it's going to be mayhem, lots of last-minute things, lots of running around, lots of people coming and going. The day before the festival, as well as both Saturday and Sunday will be long days and I will have to work hard. But I'm looking forward to meeting this challenge. I am up for it.

Oh and just in case you don't know what his Humboldt County Goo Ball marble style is, here is a picture for reference:

A Few Random Memories...

Going on two weeks ago now, on a sunny warmish Wednesday afternoon, Hayley and I went to the movie theater, where we watched the third installment in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. I was none too impressed with the second one, but they really made up for it in the third film. I hadn't been to a movie since I moved out here so perhaps I was also just excited to be in a movie theater again. But I thought it was funny, original enough, never a dull moment, and wholly entertaining.

~~~~~~~~~~

Yesterday Mike and I went for a stroll at the Arcata Marsh, where we witnessed an amazing sight. Hundreds of large birds flying in the sky, all landing in this small pond. As we approached, we noticed their shape, their long beaks and the curve of their necks. As they flew they resembled pterodactyls, and we both agreed on that point. As we continued to approach the pond, more and more continued to swoop down, flying low over our heads, dark gray in color, eerie against the overcast sky. They appeared to be Pelicans! Hundreds of them! Mike and I sat on a bench overlooking the pond and enjoyed the show. It was one of those moments where you really wish you had your camera. Trying to explain it doesn't even do it justice. The pelicans appeared to be having a meeting of some kind, and there was quite a racket in that pond. After the meeting was apparently over they began to bathe, hunt, and/or fly away, always in packs (flocks?) of about 10-20. They were so big! Mike said they resembled huge humminbirds, and I thought their dark color and the sheer number of them against the sky was like looking at a bunch of odd-shaped bats or a scene from Alfred Hitchcock's movie, The Birds (except they were not attacking us, or even acknowledging us, for that matter, which was A-OK with me)! It was pretty awesome to behold, though I wish I could share a glimpse of it with you.

~~~~~~~~~~

Yesterday on our way to the grocery store we drove by a man sitting on a fire hydrant using his laptop. I wouldn't think that would be an ideal place to use your laptop, but perhaps he was walking along on his way to a more suitable spot, a coffee shop for instance, when some laptop emergency arose, so he looked around for the nearest chair, and there was a very convenient fire hydrant. The fire hydrant was yellow, in case you were wondering.

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Speaking of weird, if you are ever in a very small and strange town called Cloverdale, just north of Santa Rosa, and you are wondering to yourself, "Self, where is the best place to purchase some gasoline in this town of Cloverdale?" Then you should go to the place where the gas is cheap, about 20 cents cheaper than any other spot for literally hundreds of miles, and that is at some guy's house. I kid you not. The gas station was his house. I know, because he let me use his bathroom. It wasn't like he lived in a gas station, it was like their was a gas pump at his house, and he had a window at which you paid, and when you looked in that window, it was his living room.

~~~~~~~~~~

Also, while Hayley and Dan were here, we discovered the fun that is Uno. I mean, I already knew it was fun previously, but it doesn't get more serious than when the four of us sit around our roommates' gigantic poker table, and play some SERIOUS UNO. Another fun thing we did was stay at this place up in Trinidad called Cabin in the Redwoods, in Emerald Forest, where it was just the four of us, no roommates in our very own cute little cabin. We went to the grocery store together and got some food. We prepared about three meals together: spaghetti and red sauce and salad and garlic bread one night (Hayley and Dan made that one); eggs, bacon and toast the next morning (I made the bacon! Hayley did the toast, Mike is the egg-master); and pesto noodles, salad and pizza the following night (that was Mike and me but it was leftover salad from the night before, a frozen pizza and an already prepared pesto sauce that you just stir into the noodles, and it's very delicious). Sitting down at the table together and eating was so nice. It felt so familiar and good to me.

Another food-realated thing we did while they were here that I'm glad about is have some delicious seafood. We ate at a place in Eureka called Gallagher's which is an Irish pub that has some delicious fried calamari and New England clam chowder. We also ate at a place in Fortuna called Eel River Brewery, where we dined on lobster and oysters and fish and chips and calamari and prawns galore. We even had some to reheat the next day.

And then the aforementioned bonfire night - Mike and Hayley ran around collecting driftwood (this is totally legal I promise) and Dan and I had the important job of holding down the log on which we were sitting. Mike had brought a pocketfull of scrap paper and pretty soon we had a pretty little fire going, an ocean, warm sand on our feet, a sunset, a few beverages and unlimited good fun. It was my favorite memory of the time they were here, by far.

~~~~~~~~~~

OK back to working on pictures, Stay Tuned for some pictures, y'all.

Holy Hot Weather, Batman!

I just checked the weather in Madison and it's 95 degrees there! You folks back home, please drink plenty of water and stay cool! I'm worried about you!

Here in Arcata, from where I post this blog, it's 55 degrees and sunny with a high of 66 degrees. That's a bit cooler than it's been lately but it's still much more pleasant than a stifling 95 degrees.

In other news, I'm working on pictures to post soon since I haven't posted any in a long time. Except for the one in the last post, but other than that...

Our Favorite Moment

Hayley and Dan's trip out here wasn't all bad - this was our favorite night, at least I believe that's the consensus. We had a bonfire at the beach, though this picture (my personal favorite) is pre-bonfire.

Still Naive, But Significantly Less Enthusiastic

Well, Hayley and Dan are back at home. They left yesterday on a red-eye home to good ol' Wisconsin. I was very sad to see them go, but relieved that they got on the plane without a hassle.

And why is that, you might ask?

Because, I feared the entire weekend that Hayley would not be allowed to board the plane. This is because of stupid jerky people who care more about themselves than respecting other people's things.

What am I talking about?

Well, after a nice walk at what I thought was a nice beach, the four of us (that's Mike, Hayley, Dan, and me) returned to the car to find two of my windows busted out, a car full of glass, and two purses including wallets and all identification (that's Hayley's and mine) gone.

Yes, yes, I know that's why you don't leave your purse where it can be seen. I have no excuses for this. I thought it was a safe road. It was the middle of the day. There were other cars around. OK, those suspiciously read like excuses.

If I could take back one moment in my recent life, it would in a flash be the poor decision to not put Hayley's and my purses in the trunk.

Speaking of the trunk, it was packed full of nice things, and yet left unscathed. No one popped the trunk popper. I guess that is a silver lining.

This has been a terrible weekend for my poor dear sister and her poor (not-as-dear-as-Hayley-but-close) boyfriend. This was supposed to be their vacation. Now they have a bad taste in their mouths that is associated with my home, a place I considered to be happy until my sister and I were violated, until my boyfriend had to put tape over the windows where glass used to exist and vacuum the inside of the car out repeatedly to get all of the broken glass out of the car.

There is what I consider to be a bittersweet outcome to all of this, proof positive that there are kind-hearted and good people in this county that is Humboldt.

My car was broken into Friday early evening, but still past business hours. While at the sheriff's office Monday morning, waiting for a rushed case report only after what seemed like hours and hours of haggling over the weekend and making phone calls and then going in and pleading our case as to why we needed the report done on a "rush" basis (so my sister could board her flight home and go back to her life and her job and responsibilities - with no photo ID and the ever-increasing airport security you can imagine the anxiety she was feeling about this; we all were).

Well this is where things get complicated. No, the story is not complicated yet. Just wait.

So, we are at the sheriff's office. I decide to walk out to the car to get something from it. We are already delayed in leaving town because of how long it's taking to find an on-duty deputy to complete a portion of the report. Mike and I walk out to the car; Hayley and Dan are still waiting inside. My boss at the festival office happens to drive by at the moment I'm walking on the sidewalk to the car, sees me (the sherriff's office is on a busy business highway), sort of pulls over/double parks and yells out the window, "Hey! I've been trying to get a hold of you all weekend! Call the ladies at HAF (that's my other job) - did you lose your purse? Someone there found your stuff!"

So, shaking I pull the Yellow Pages from the rental car and fumble to look up my work. Unable to work the book I am about to toss it to Mike to look for me, and then I remember I've been telling people the number on the phone for about two weeks and actually have it memorized. I call my other job and it turns out my coworker there was out walking her dog at 6:30 Saturday morning (which she never does and her dog woke her up early so she decided to make the most of it), when she saw a credit card in the gutter. She read the name on the card, and it was mine. She looked around and spotted three more cards, a debit card of mine, a debit card of Hayley's, and Hayley's driver's license. The thing we needed the most to ensure she could board her plane.

This is weird because the ID and cards were found 20 miles south of where the incident occurred and nowhere near either of my employers. I hadn't yet called them with another number at which to reach me because it didn't seem like a weekend priority (my cell phone was in my purse and was stolen), and I had no way of imagining someone that knows me in this town - because I can still count those people on my two hands - would find my stuff. I guess I should have thought again.

So after receiving verbal confirmation about six times from my coworker (I just couldn't believe what she was telling me), I went inside to tell Hayley and Dan, and then to let the woman working at the sheriff's office know that we didn't need the narrative portion of the police report and that someone had found her license. The woman looked like I was speaking to her in Blibber Blabber or something. I am not sure she believed or could comprehend what I was telling her. I still can't really piece it together in my head; it's just so random how events came together and how we were still in town and able to receive the ID in a timely manner.

Anyway. The rest of our stuff unfortunately is still missing. A lot of sentimental value and some expensive things too. One of the items both of us are extremely upset about is our respective datebooks, as those sort of help us run our busy lives. Starting from scratch and memory is a really tough thing. Hayley lost her MP3 player which was a special gift two years ago. My favorite (slightly expensive) watch was in my bag. There is significant damage done to my car that will be costly and time-consuming to repair, and until the repair is done the car is not secure or safe (it's also unsightly, to say the least).

This entire experience is one I think I could have lived without. And if I could change it even one little bit, if I had to somehow go through this and learn this lesson personally, I would spare my sister. She and Dan were supposedly on vacation. When something like this happens, you no longer feel very vacation-y. I wish I could at least have spared her this painful experience.

And if you ever think your actions don't affect anybody, or that it won't matter that much, I would say rethink that one as fast and as completely as possible. I am learning more and more how closely connected humankind is. How everything you do affects someone in some way. How small the world is, and how often and much we cross each others' paths. Mike at one point before it had all sunk in mentioned that maybe this was someone who was in such a bad way he/she needed the money and things more than we did. I appreciate his point. But I hope I am never that desperate, and if I am, I hope I remember to put myself in someone else's place anyway and not to disregard someone else's belongings in order to take care of myself. I hope this person that did this to Hayley and me feels at least a tinge of remorse for his or her stupid selfish jerky actions.

Probably not. But I can still hope. I guess that's where the naivety factors in.

Visitors from Another Planet

And that planet is Wisconsin.

Don't worry, they are not really aliens, and I'm not really funny. I can live with that.

This is the blog where I announce with glee that Hayley and Dan, my sis and her boyfriend for anyone who might not know (why wouldn't you know?!?), are coming to visit me in A FEW SHORT DAYS and it's just not going to feel real until I pick them up at the airport! But I'm so excited to see their faces, I can hardly stand it.

I AM BESIDE MYSELF!

WITH GLEE!

In the meantime, I have to try and focus on work. Learning a new job is hard enough, but make that learning-a-new-job-while-going-into-crunch-time-on-the-other-new-job-that-I-just-felt-like-I-got-the-hang-of and YIKES I am more than whelmed, i.e. overwhelmed.

Yeah, not funny. I know.

I Walked

We have two city parks that I love; one is Sequoia Park in Eureka, within a mile of my house, and the other is Redwood Park in Arcata. I'm sure I've mentioned both.

This past week I walked. I worked, and I walked. Sunday I walked from my house to Sequoia Park, which is attached to the local zoo. I hung out with the black bear at the zoo, who was looking for some food at about 10 in the morning. He was smaller than I would have thought, as I have only seen him from the back of his "area" sleeping. Sunday, he walked right up to the front and looked at us onlookers like we had fish in hand that we were withholding. I walked through Sequoia Park down one of the trails through the woods to the duck pond, and after walking back up another trail out of the forest, I sat in the gazebo in the small garden on the other side of the zoo and talked to my grandma. I had walked for about two hours at this point but wasn't ready to stop walking. So I kept walking away from my house and ended up at the video store. I picked up two DVD's that I still as of today have not watched. They are due back tonight, but it's so nice out that I don't know if I'll get to them. I walked a total of four or so hours. It was so ... relaxing ... and relieving. Walking, in solitude, is the best way to get to know oneself, I have found. Walking in pairs, is the best way to get to know each other, I have found.

Monday night after work Mike and I walked from our house to Sequoia Park (Eureka). Tuesday night after work I went to Arcata to pick Mike up from his work and we went to Redwood Park (Arcata) and walked. Wednesday, Sequoia Park. Thursday, Sequoia. Friday, Redwood. Saturday, Grizzly Creek, which is somewhere else amazing altogether, save for the poison oak they have growing in spades.

Each walk on the trails was over an hour and sometimes two hours. Each walk was downhill as well as up. It was exhilerating. My muscles feel the results of such consistent walking. I had been walking everyday up until this point, but the length and the level was incredibily varied and sometimes the walk was no more than 15 minutes, and essentially on flat land, though that is hard in this hilly county in which I reside.

We are about to go for another walk. It's beautifully sunny here, and not too windy. I like the structure of an everyday job, but I live for the stress relief that is walking. Taking a moment at the top of the trail to stand and behold the huge trees and listen to the sounds of the birds, to reflect on how alive and beautiful the forest is...well, I'm having trouble finding the words, so just go find out for yourself. Your body and soul will thank you for it, I promise.

Where I Live (AKA The Best Dictionary Entry)

While looking for a word in my dictionary I came across the best entry ever:

la-la land (la'la') n. 1. A place renowned for its frivolous activity. 2. A state of mind characterized by unrealistic expectations or a lack of seriousness.

I have been accused by just about every teacher growing up of being in la-la land. But I did not know it actually existed, according to my rockin' dictionary, and that just clears up so much for me! You have no idea how excited I am.

I guess this means there is a real name for my condition.

Hahaha. Just kidding.

Changing the subject, the lowlight of my day was when a fiber optic in our little Humboldt County made the internet go away for all people everywhere/in Humboldt County. This meant at my second day at my new job I was able to do hands-on training MUCH less (like not at all) than I wanted.

In related news, the highlight of my day was that the internet was down so my coworker and I went for a hike on our property, which has its very own hiking trails. Oh yeah, I love my life and I love la-la land.

PEACE.

End of Trail

Here is one pic for y'all - this is the only time you'll see me by this sign (this was the point at which we hiked up another gazillion yards to a "vista point" and THEN turned around and walked the entire trail back to the car).

I Get to Help People For a Living

OK I'll let the website speak for the organization I'm now proud to be a part of; it is called Humboldt Area Foundation and its website is here.

I oversee and advocate for the Angel Fund, which provides money for low-income families and individuals who need assistance in paying for health- and medical-related expenses; and also the Angel Dental Fund, which helps pay for dental needs of children.

I work two days per week at Humboldt Area Foundation and three days per week at Redwood Coast Music Festivals. After my assistant director gig at Blues by the Bay mid July I will go full time at Humboldt Area Foundation.

I feel like I've found my niche.

ALSO,

I haven't been posting because I've been too sore. Stupid, eh, but true. In a way.

A few weeks back we hiked 8 miles and it was rough, on the muscles; the scenery and the trail and the experience were all wonderful. Last Sunday, one day less of a week after the first hike at Headwaters Trail, we had another go. The entire trail is something like 11.6 miles. And we hiked the entire trail.

That may not seem like much to you, but holey moley was it hard. It's 5.3 miles in and then you loop around and come back. The entire fourth mile is very steep uphill. Everything after that (so that would be the entire fifth mile and then the .3 mile that felt like five miles all in itself) is barely a trail and completely overgrown with lots of stuff. I thought we were in the middle of a jungle or something. The "trail," if you can call it that, at that point is so uneven and rocky that it was a good thing I had such great hiking boots (that Mike bought me in January when I was out here for a visit) that provided ankle-saving support, no doubt.

I am so glad I did it, and I even have a picture of myself by the "End of Trail" sign to prove I was really there. But I tell you that will be the last time I make it that far. I felt the last mile and some was overrated. We have decided to hike 10 miles the next time around, for at the five-mile mark is a beautiful secluded little part of the redwood forest with streams and logs and growing things (i.e. ferns, wild purple irises, other things for which I know no names) everywhere, where we sat and ate our lunch (I have never eaten a more delicious turkey and swiss and avocado and black olive sandwich in my life as the one I ate after hiking five difficult miles).

I didn't know mere walking could be so hard. I no longer think of hiking as "mere walking." My muscles felt it for all of last week. I've just now recovered enough to type blogs again! My goal is to hike those 10 miles until they are not so difficult anymore.

I Got Another Job!

I haven't been on here in a while... busy with work, blah blah blah, same story different day or something like that.

But anyway, I had the strangest thing happen, strange because it's never happened to me before, not because it's actually odd: I'll have to tell you later, i.e. look at this post's title for a big "clue"/the answer. And why it's strange/odd? Again, I'll add details later.

But no worries about my assistant director job at the music festival non-profit; things are going absolutely wonderfully there - I'll explain the circumstances and details later/soon! I just didn't want y'all to think I gave up on this thing.

Love and Stuff,