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    I am an immigrant.

    November 16th, 2016

    Last night I introduced by children to this statement. Because it describes who I am. Don’t even remember how we came to this topic of conversation, but it felt like an opportune time to tie a term they are hearing on the radio, TV and around to their daily lives.

    I want them to know that “immigrant” has a face. Mine. Their grandma’s; their grandpa’s; their aunt’s; their uncle’s. I want them to know that when they hear that term, people are grouping me and their relatives in what they say next. I want them to filter everything they hear about that term through the lens of what they know about us.

    I don’t label myself usually. I never felt like I had to be explicit about the non-visible labels. But now I feel that I have to, not because I want to be different, but because I want to stand in solidarity with others in that label… and so that our sons can see that the family and friends they care about ARE who is being talked about.

    If you have a label you want to embrace so that my children put more faces to terms, let me know.

    Evolution and Reincarnation

    February 13th, 2016

    I’ve had a fun week this week, with each kid catching me on each of these topics.

    G straight up asked “How did we come from apes?”, which enqueued a good discussion on what evolution is, positive traits that species want to hold onto, and superfluous ones that disappear over time. We talked about the use of pinkies… and would humans ever go down to just 4 fingers. It ended in G concluding that he wanted a tail again so he could “do stuff”. He’s thinking more of a 3rd arm though, to be clear. Frankly, I’d like a third arm too.

    On the flip side was S2 who exclaimed that he wanted to be a Phoenix. I initially thought he wanted his name to be Phoenix (which for the record WAS on the list, but given that there was already a Griffin, I didn’t want the naming scheme in our home to corner the market on Grecian mythological creatures), but as it turned out he wanted to literally be a Phoenix. He wanted to burst into flames and be reborn as a baby phoenix. This in turn kicked off a conversation about reincarnation, what some people believed in happens after death. He concluded that he would like to be reincarnated into a baby snow leopard. Who knows kid, you might get your shot.

    Anniversary Trip: Moorea & Bora Bora

    July 16th, 2015

    S and I celebrate 10 years of marriage next month. Kinda hard to believe it’s been that long.
    We wanted to mark the milestone with an anniversary trip, sans kiddos. A year ago we were thinking Maldives: beautiful island, bungalow over the water… plus with rising water levels, the Maldive Islands were not going to be around by the end of our lifetime. We started looking into cost (financial, and vacation wise travelling to that part of the world), and realized a Maldives trip was a little beyond our reach. I had gotten inexplicably attached to the over-water bungalow idea though, which left us with a few other world-wide locations to support that request. We were ultimately looking at Tahiti (Bora Bora, more specifically).
    As it turned out, another good set of friends was also planning a Tahiti trip for THEIR 10th year anniversary. They were going through Costco Travel and suggested we looked into it. It was genuinely a win, because it was a good deal, and the travel agents were super knowledgeable, made good recommendations, and took care of everything… including the transports between planes, boats, and the like.
    Trip planning aside, the hardest bit was deciding when to go, and finding a set of helping hands to watch the kids. We’re fortunate to have had several family members consent to hang with the boys, but once we started comparing our timing and their timing and running numbers on flight costs for them, it made the most sense to have my parents come. I lived every day up until our vacation almost in denial it would happen… because I would’ve been crushed if it didn’t. I expected my grandmother to get ill, or something else to go wrong and leave us back at home. Thankfully, none of it came to pass, and our trip was happily a reality.

    While it felt like a long journey, the longest part was really all the lay-overs. Going to Tahiti requires a trip to LA, and then it’s an 8 hour flight. After travelling back and forth to Europe, I feel like I can do 8 hours on my head… especially without any kids involved. I HATE sleeping on planes: that’s probably the only draw-back to that journey. I’m sorry, but whomever thought that a 3-degree seat recline is sufficient for a restful position was either abused as a child, or was conducting a torture experiment.
    We arrived in Tahiti around 5am in the morning. We were greeted with leis (which smell awesome, by the way), and escorted to the ferry building. Our ferry didn’t leave for about two hours though, so we had some time to kill. We spent it at the market across the street from the ferry building. Most of the little shops were closed, but we found a cafe for a good smoothie, and (surprisingly) wifi. We called my parents to see how they fared their first drop-off with the kids.





    The ferry building was an awesome wooden structure, that itself resembled a ship. Yep — I played photo tourist all the way. But hey, hopefully some nice photos for you to enjoy along with it too 🙂




    Once on the ferry, it was about a 30 minute ride to Moorea. On the roof of the ferry people were playing reggae music. In a little secluded corner, there was a young man playing the ukulele. I can’t begin to explain how awesome it all felt!


    The ride from the ferry marina to our hotel took about 45 minutes. We were dropping people off the whole way, and I genuinely felt like we were the last stop. In Moorea, we opted for a regular bungalow, and not over the water. It came with a private pool (though it was always so cold, since it was secluded and shaded by tall palm-trees).










    We had planned three activities for our vacation: a dolphin swim and Jeep tour on Moorea, and a shark/stingray feeding on Bora Bora. Our first was the dolphin swim.
    The Intercontinental Resort, where we stayed in Moorea has a dolphin center, providing a home to three rescued bottle nose dolphins. They provided educational programs along with a meet & greet. You get in the water with the dolphins pretty fast. The pools for that encounter is pretty deep, and they gave us life jackets. Score for me. But then about 2 minutes into introducing us to our first dolphin, the instructor asks “Ok, who wants to do a dive with insert-name-of-dolphin-i-don’t-remember?” and looked straight at me. Normally, I don’t mind going first, but 1) my swimming skills are far from exemplary; 2) I had no idea what to expect. So I shook my head “No”. Either S, or the other guy in our group went first. I felt like their dive took awhile. There was an “over the water” option, so I took that one. I was surprised how strong this animal was. And how it felt. I wasn’t sure what to expect, to be honest, but it’s skin(?) was smooth, and… man, I can’t even explain it. In the second dive, I went under. I felt like I was slipping, but I held on as best I could. The dolphin experience was our most expensive activity on vacation. But really, not a whole lot of opportunities in life to do it, so I’m glad we did!
    We weren’t allowed to bring any photo or video cameras with us. Of course, it’s so that at the end you end up buying the accompanying video and photos… which we did.









    A little deeper into the resort, they had a turtle sanctuary. They had a few green turtles (ranging from super little to about 2′ long) and what I’m pretty sure was a leatherback. The turtles were strictly “no touch”, because the objective was to get them to health and release.




    The Jeep tour was, sadly, a little disappointing. In retrospect, we would’ve enjoyed the ATV tour better. I swear the difference was between the retiree tour and the honeymooners tour (Jeep = retirees, if I need to spell it out). Though it was the same stopping points, the ATV tour just felt like they got a different perspective and trip through the island. The Jeep tour felt like it was a lot of “Ok — here we are; take some photos and get back on the back”. Little explanation; little adventure… though the trip up to Magic Mountain was quite eventful — super steep climb, one way road, with a driver I swear was doing 40mph up that thing. I’m pretty sure it’s “magic” if you make it all the way up and down. The really cool part of that trip was seeing the ancient Tahitian temples. I feel talking about the temples was the one time our tour guide really came through. The tour took us through a pineapple plantation, where we realized pineapples actually grew on the ground. We landed at a processing plant with a little store, where we got to taste some of the liquors created from the local fruit. Yummo! Seriously.















    Oh yeah, there were chickens everywhere. Roaming free. The roosters were super pretty too. Why did the chicken cross the road? I dunno — but watch out driving.


    Since we were the last group to be dropped off, our driver asked if we could stop by and pick up his wife and his two youngest kids. He was looking to take them to the beach. So S and I got a super back-roads view of Moorea. How Tahitians live struck me. I enjoy my space, and privacy from my neighbors, and even within my home. Four of us (plus cat) live in a 2K sq. ft home. Most of the homes there were easily less than half the size of ours, and housed far many inhabitants. Our tour guy lived in his home with his 10 children. Yep, 10! I’ll stay quiet about trying to keep up with our 2.

    Our friend L came to visit for an evening. She and her husband had been on Moorea for the past two years. They sailed from the US, but as we were leaving, so were they. M is already back in the US, and L left just a day or so after us, bidding the islands and their boat adieu.

    In case you haven’t guessed, I def. packed my nice camera along. That and a tripod. I only wish I took a remote control. It would’ve made life heck of a lot easier, but I got some good exercise, running in flip-flops to my spot in space. But hey, S and I got two portraits out of it that I’m pretty happy about, and my self-portrait in the maze with the sunset makes me happy.





    When our visit to Moorea was through we were off to Bora Bora. Our Jeep tour guide referred to it as “Boring Boring”. He’s kind of not wrong : there wasn’t as much to do there, and it felt like a much more “honeymoon-y” island than Moorea. The water was ridiculous though. Both Moorea and Bora Bora struck me with remarkably clear water, and awesome snorkeling opportunity, but when you have a bungalow right over the water, and your coffee table looks straight through to your private coral reef? That’s something else 🙂


    We got picked up from the airport by a boat. A BOAT!!! I’m pretty sure I won’t get to do that again. Boat is the only way away from the airport.

    Our room in Bora Bora had a huge window and we got to witness the sunrise every day.


    Bora Bora was where we signed up to do the stingray and shark dive. I was really nervous about this one. I don’t like being in open water because of my swimming skills, but mainly my irrational fear of sharks. I won’t explain it — I know it’s ridiculous, but I really don’t like participating in activities where I could be part of the food chain. No matter how beautiful the marine world is, I just can’t relax knowing that a shark that could be intrigued by my being can be in the near 20 mi vicinity. Let me summarize our engagement snorkeling trip to Maui:

    S: Look at the cool fish!
    Me: Neat! Where’s the shark?

    But let’s move on. I shared my fear with one of the Costco travel agents I spoke with when I booked this activity. His way of making me feel better was to tell me what to expect. It went something like this:

    Travel Agent: When you get out of the boat, the sharks surrounding you are only about 5-feet long. Below you are the bigger sharks, at about 20-feet. But neither of them eat humans.
    Me: 8-0!!!!!

    Dude!!! *I* am only 5’3″??? The “little” sharks are as big as me!
    But … it was fine! I’m here to talk about it anyway 🙂
    The activity goes like this: first stop to a coral reef where you just get to gawk at cool fish and coral.
    Second stop: stingray feeding. I was pretty excited about this one. The stingray “meet and greet” is in really shallow water. As in, you can stand up, and water comes up to your waist. All was well and good, until the guide goes “Oh?! It looks like the rays are joined by 5 black-tip sharks today.” Again, me: “8-0!!!!!” But… it was fine! I just stared at the sharks a lot, and probably didn’t enjoy the rays as much as I would have without them there. I stepped on a stingray by accident! They are all over the bottom, and as careful as I was trying to be, those suckers move faster than my body was slowly navigating it’s way. They also love their tuna fish. There was a stingray frenzy, giving our guide more or less flapping hickeys trying to get to his bucket. S got a kick out of it anyway 🙂



    THEN came the actual shark feeding. That was another boat ride, further into the ocean, with water at about 40′ deep. We were warned that seeing the lemon sharks might not happen. They were rare. I guess we were lucky(???) because we were joined by two that day. I spent my time looking mostly like this: keeping my hands as close as possible.


    I did, however, realize, that once I put a camera in front of my face, I become a robot. I didn’t think about being scared — I just wanted a cool shot of the lemons. I got these! S had to call me in at some point, because it was time to go. He also didn’t want us to be the last ones to the boat when the sharks realized the food was gone. I love that man!!!






    I will give myself props though, because I did the 40′ water dive without a life jacket. I was surprised I didn’t feel like I needed it. I was plenty buoyant just fine on my own…. though that is either a sad reflection on my BMI, or flippers and a snorkel really are amazing inventions.
    We got rained on really hard on the boat ride back. Seriously, pelted by rain. My thighs were red from being at the front of the boat, absorbing it all.

    On one of our days on Bora Bora, S and I took a kayak out to a little coral reef. It was, admittedly, a little disappointing not to see all the cool fish people promised. But we did park our kayak in what felt like someone’s back-yard. They were super friendly, and told us how to park it…. which was good, because if they hadn’t, we’d be swimming after it.
    While on the shore, I found two perfect shells I wanted to take home for the boys. I was beach-combing a little bit, but when you’re on the beach of a resort, everything is kind of already picked over… or it’s shipped in sand, anyway. This was unadulterated, and I was pretty excited about it. I dropped my two finds in the kayak, only to discover that when we returned, both had moved. Yep — each of my shells already had an inhabitant. So … no shells for the boys. Not those, anyway (we ended up buying them some polished shells from town later).


    Check out time from our Bora Bora hotel was early in the morning. But our flight back wasn’t until 5pm, so we booked a Jet Ski tour around the island. The awesome things we discovered at our hotels was the transit rooms. You go in, and for 30 minutes you can take a shower, change… just regain normalcy. They were perfect when waiting to check in our room in Moorea, and perfect after the Jet-Ski tour for getting ready to get on a plane. Why don’t we have these things in the US?
    Anyway, the jet-ski was fun. S drove most of the way: I got to drive it on the way back to our hotel. It was a gloomy day. It actually rained on us a bit, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the rain from the shark trip. And the water from the sky tasted SO GOOD!!! I was humming “If all of the raindrops” to myself.
    Part of this experience took us to a little island where the guide showed us how to open our own coconuts. I realized that I would not survive on a deserted island by myself, and am much more likely to impale myself on a coconut opening stake, than actually get to eat one. S was able to finish the job, in both peeling the outer coconut shell AND cracking open the coconut. HE, on the other hand would do OK stranded on an island.








    Also, looking in the video from that event I realized that I am HECKA white. How do you not see my legs from space?

    Let’s talk about food!
    We were warned by M&J that the food on this trip would be sub-par… and the alcohol extra expensive. This was reinforced by two of my colleagues too. However, our experience was pretty different! Within 15 minutes walking distance to our hotel on Moorea was Snack Mahana. Seriously awesome food! Their Poisson Cru (this delicious raw tuna marinated in lime juice and coconut milk) was seriously the best we had on the trip. I would eat there every day I could.


    We teamed up with a set of honeymooners, who recommended and organized reservations to Rudy’s, also on Moorea. That was my best dinner on this trip, and I don’t think anyone that went there was disappointed.
    Most of the restaurants on the islands provided transportation, on account of what we heard were ridiculous taxi fares. This is both good and bad. Good? Free ride. Bad? Well, you go home with the people you came with, so you’re kind of at the mercy of the expediency of the dining of your companions. This wasn’t a problem, for the most part, though our one dinner at the Bora Bora Yacht Club was about to make me homicidal.
    The Yellow Lizzard was also super, super tasty. I had fantastic lamb chops there. I was warned to eat sea-food and local-recipe food, because the rest was pretty mediocre, but the Yellow Lizzard killed it.
    On Bora Bora, we tried hard to get into a restaurant called La Villa Mahana. But with seven tables and only one seating a night, we were totally out of luck. Leave it to the New Yorkers to teach us about reservations WELL ahead of time… even on vacation. We had dinner at the Yacht Club, Bloody Mary’s, and a little restaurant right next to our hotel. All were fine, but nothing that makes my mouth water like the places we ate at in Moorea.
    The Yacht Club treated us to a seriously amazing sunset though. I took photos just about every 10 minutes, because it was changing and becoming more and more beautiful by the minute.




    That boat you see there was also seriously entertaining. A young couple occupied it, and the guy had taken a coconut back. The poor dude spent literally half an hour trying to open it up (I can relate in retrospect… though he did have a knife… and I had a rock and a stake). When he did, we heard a big “Yahoo!” coming off his deck. I wanted to cheer with him. Later that evening, he also peed right off his boat, facing our table. It was dark, but not so dark I couldn’t see what was going on. Thanx?!?!

    French Polynesia, as the name suggests is a French speaking country. I took French in high school WAYYYYY too long ago to mention. But I’m proud that some of it stuck. S and I ventured into a little market to get some mixers for our duty-free acquired booze. I bought some Bailey’s that needed milk, and we couldn’t find milk anywhere. I circled the refrigerated sections many times over. The little store was selling ovens, and laundry machines, but as far as I could tell, no milk. Finally as we were about to give up, I walked up to check out, and asked “Avez vous lait?” Look, I’m not saying it was perfect, but it got me pointed to a shelf where shelf-stable milk occupied the aisle. Hooray! Mrs. B (my French teacher) would be proud! Or maybe not.

    Now onto the underwater photos. Let’s say these are more or less self-explanatory… though the one of S snorkling and then hanging out by the I [heart] Bora sign are my favorites. These aren’t true photos, to be honest. They are extracted from GoPro video, and then given some digital editing love 🙂












    If I had the chance to do this trip all over again, I would seriously want to extend it to 5 days on each island. Not sure my parents would’ve held out that long, but 3 and 3 felt too short. At least 5 days in Moorea, would be nice. I felt like there was so much to do there. And if I was coming back with a family, I definitely would prefer Moorea over Bora Bora. More activities, more food options, just I felt more comfortable there. But the overwater bungaloos in Bora Bora were awesome!

    So… this concludes this novel of a post. If you didn’t get enough photos, there are more. See them here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/avalikelava/albums/72157655739248436/ . If we’re friends on Flickr, be sure you sign in when you view them, because some are private to friends/family.

    Father’s Day goodies

    June 21st, 2015

    I’m kicking myself a bit. S2 brought home a questionnaire about his dad. I can’t find it, and therefore can’t scan/share it. D’oh!
    Instead, however, we get a treat of this cup he created for his dad. It’s of he and his brother skydiving, while S is playing basketball. S is so awesome, he gets to play with two balls!!!

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    That aside, these boys are two lucky kids with S as their dad. He’s a great balance to my crazy and stubborn and can reach them during their tunnel-visioned angry moments in ways I simply can’t. He’s an incredible, incredible dad, and I couldn’t be on this parenting ride without him.

    Love you, babe, and Happy Father’s Day!

    UPDATE: I found it! Of course right after I stopped looking, and moved onto something else, it popped up — right on S’ desk. So, here goes. A perspective on his dad, by S2


    2014 look-back

    December 26th, 2014

    I’m not sure how to look back on 2014 to be honest. Some really bad things happened to be sure: Jennifer died, S got laid off (temporarily)… I lost my job too. But also some really great things happened too: my sister got married, G started kinder, S’ is kicking butt at work, I landed an even cooler job in the end… four amazing babies were born to wonderful friends (and I got to be there for the births of three of them)… we have our health, and things are good.

    I just don’t have it in me to hate last year, or need to put it behind me. With that said I really want 2015 to be better. I don’t want to hear the word “cancer” again. Tall order, I know. (Or at least I’ll take no new cases to those close to me.) I’d like a stress-free job year. I’d like more travel with my family. I’d like to go back to doing regular walks. I’d like … a genuinely good year.

    So here’s to 2015.

    I lied

    August 23rd, 2014

    I said yesterday that I’m not anxious about next week and G going into kindergarten. I lied.

    I’ve been having nightmares.

    About the boys dying. In one I was lead to a field of headstones/full-body death masks. One of the death masks was of S2. I woke up frightened.

    G turns 6 next week. He starts kindy too. Jennifer was diagnosed on her sixth birthday. Her eye turned a few days prior and their lives were never the same since.

    I’m not saying this is logical. It’s not.

    I’m not predicting it will happen. Oh please, oh please, I hope it doesn’t.

    But that’s where my mind has been going this week. If I had a full body MRI machine at my disposal (and can read the results), I’d be scanning the kids weekly. I’m so afraid! So afraid to have cancer come into our lives. Specifically their lives.

    I give them hugs at night so grateful that I can.

    I went to sleep last night asking for 60 more years with them. Then I realized in 60 years I’ll be in my mid-90s. So maybe that’s not realistic. So then I asked for 50 more years. 50 sounded reasonable. And then it sounded SO short. Yes, there are week-ends where Monday can’t come fast enough, but 50 years right now felt like just a blink of an eye.

    Crap! I hate the word “cancer” now. My dad’s mom died because of breast cancer. My mom’s dad died because of melanoma. My mom has had it. Thankfully she’s cancer free. My mom’s mom has it now. She will not be cured. But never have I hated and feared cancer as much as since Jennifer’s diagnosis. Maybe it’s because prior to that cancer was treatable. Survivable even. And kids were rare to get it, right? Not that there are some cancers where there is nothing to be done. Not that 46 kids get diagnosed each day. Not that by the time the boys graduate high school each will (on average) have 4 school-mates that will be diagnosed with cancer. I just so don’t want either G or S2 to be one of those kids. Please, oh, please, oh, please! Or any more of my close circle of friends. I can’t take any more.

    A is anxious about K-bean being teased at school. Other friends lament their babies growing up and not being home with them during the day. I’m not saying they don’t have my fears. I’m sure they do. But I want their fears to be at my surface. I want to trade.

    I guess there’s nothing to do now but fake it through next week.


    February 21st, 2014

    I’m still trying to make sense of today. I know I feel tired. And empty. A little scared. Thankful.

    Things that made me cry today:
    T. Giving her a hug today reminded me why we were there.
    Jonathan’s batman slippers… while he and Nicholas wore dress suits that were a little big for their frame. They’re too young to know this grief.
    Libby’s hand rolling her daughters casket into the service. Caskets should never have to be made for someone this little.
    Libby’s words. How is she so composed in face of such devastation?

    I was glad to have S with me today. I needed him by my side. And he was. So were the spouses of the rest of our group (as much as work allowed them to be). It was good to see the support system of the support system be there.

    I needed today. It made it more real. Though it still doesn’t feel real. How can it be?

    I haven’t cried much since the 12th. I thought I mourned her 4 times already. Maybe I was prepared? I wasn’t. Today was hard. Will there be more hard days? Will they catch me off guard?

    I turned 35 this week. It’s the first year I feel so…. mortal. I’ve lost friends before. Loved relatives. Some were taken too soon. But none hurt this bad. How is that possible?
    I look at my graying hair. At the wrinkles on face. I hate seeing them there. I’m not ready. I feel like I’m just starting to make a difference in this world: not transition into an age of obsolete-ness.

    I notice more people around me experience loss and reflect on health scares. It’s too much. Too many. I need wedding announcements, baby births, and good luck for ‘getting your offer on that house’ requests. Not ‘there’s a lump in my breast’ prayers.
    I can’t take much more.
    My heart has reached capacity. I’m empathic. But I don’t have any more room to be sad. Not yet. I haven’t healed enough from this yet.

    2013 retrospective

    December 31st, 2013

    I’m really struggling to assess 2013. I find myself really regretting this year being over… but maybe not so much because it was such a great year, but because I’m finding myself opening the door to 2014 with a lot of trepidation. As I’m getting older the unknown behind the next corner is getting to me. Some of it is good. Some of it won’t be. It’s the latter that makes me anxious.

    The events of Oct. 28th rattled me perhaps much more than I’ve been able to admit. While it didn’t happen to MY family, it hit in my extended “chosen” family, and it’s been making me re-evaluate a lot. Who am I as a mother? What have I accomplished? What is out there that I still want to do? Just HOW MUCH do my children and husband mean to me? The idea of loss in my mind is tearing up a whole in my heart so big that I just can’t even handle facing that, and I fear 2014 because I don’t know what it will bring.

    Yet I look back on 2013 with so much positive:
    – G made huge strides in how much he’s grown and matured. HUGE! Graduating from therapy was a big milestone for me
    – S2 is such a little boy now, and builds like a maniac, while still loving and hugging like the best friend you’d want in life
    – G is doing so, SO well in pre-k at his new school
    – Zoe came into our lives with all her love for us
    – New jobs for both S and I
    – Our parents have been in good health
    – My little sister is getting married- Gma Piper passed away, and while this in of itself is NOT a positive event, her full life and all her loving family make me very thankful. I fully adopted Gma Piper as my grandmother too, and feel blessed to have gotten to know her too

    You gotta admit: it’s a little hard to leave that behind.

    So I guess with some trepidation, c’mon 2014.

    I leave you with photos of our last family session w/ Corinne McCombs. She did a pretty great job given that I made her work in full sun in the morning.

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    My bucket list

    December 27th, 2013

    A few days ago I went to lunch with a couple of work friends. A asked “If you could take a sabbatical for a whole year, and money was all taken care of, what personal projects would you accomplish during that time?” They talked about their deep desires about filming documentaries. I said two things:

    1) Learn how to ride a horse
    2) Learn how to be a pretty awesome ballroom dancer

    The rest of the story with those guys isn’t as interesting any more, but it’s made me think of my bucket list. What’s on it that I want to achieve? So here goes. This will be an evolving list. A lot of it has to do with places I want to see, and worlds I want to experience:

    – Climb the pyramid at Machu Picchu
    – Have a lazy afternoon at a beach resort on the Maldives
    – Learn to ride a horse so that a gallop, on my own, won’t freak me out- Ride on the Oriental Express
    – Touch the Giza Pyramid
    – Enjoy a night salsa dancing where I can hold my own
    – See the Northern Lights
    – Become a decent tennis player
    – Submit a photograph to world-wide photography competition

    8 items. I’m not greedy ;p

    Added on:
    – Take a painting class,

    Failing 18th century womanhood

    November 10th, 2013

    I made G’s Halloween costume this year. That’s right! Do act shocked. He wanted to be a caterpiller, and with less than 2 weeks to go between Halloween and his mind-swap, there was little opportunity to find something that would fit him online.

    Sewing can’t be that hard right? I mean with YouTube on the right and the sewing machine on the left, what can go wrong? Just as soon as someone figured out the whole bobbin thing for me I’d be set, right?  Yeah, let’s just say I owe the iron-on seam inventor a big thank you for that day.

    So… I don’t sew.
    I don’t like doing laundry.
    Cooking is an event, in my mind, not an every day chore. I am good at this, though.
    I can’t embroider worth a damn.I did learn how to knit, although haven’t done anything since my very early teens.

    There. I totally would fail at being a female in the 18th century or earlier. I would either need to be an aristocrat, where most of the above wasn’t expected, or just die a lonely old maid because I bring no value to a house-hold.

    I don’t object to the above… most of the time. But when a friend asks you to contribute to a tribute project, or your kid looks up at you with grand designs on a costume? Kinda wish I had the skills. Photoshop, after all, can only get you so far.