I thought so.

My 25th birthday was fairly uneventful and relaxing, just how I want it. I’ve mentally caught myself today a few times going “Holy shit I am 25… I don’t feel 25…” I think the greatest gift by far was that Mack’s Dad is on the mend (better words to serve the situation justice would be directly from Mack’s mother in her blog posts here and here) and life is good.

Since I’m feeling particularly sappy this birthday, here are 25 life lessons/things of importance (in no particular order) I’ve learned in the last 25 years:

1. Family is who you laugh with, you cry with, and who drives you crazy. I’m so thankful for my family and the families who let me into their lives and teach me so much.
2. Getting dirty isn’t the end of the world. Sometimes it’s half the fun.
3. Take risks. You never know if you’ll like something until you try it out.
4. Sometimes the best things in life are free. Other times they’re pretty expensive but worth it in the end.
5. Pay attention to the small details. They might be the most important and life altering.
6. Travel. The whole world is at your finger tips and it expands your knowledge/life/understanding so much.
7. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Even the stuff you think is big ultimately it might not be.
8. Life is fragile and not to be taken for granted.
9. Don’t judge a book by a cover… although sometimes your initial impressions of people turn out to be true. Give them a chance first.
10. It’s okay to admit you need help and you don’t know all the answers.
11. Relationships are hard work. It makes them that more enriching and worth it.
12. Try new foods that might otherwise be scary. To go with point 3 you never know until you try how much you might love something.
13. Communicate your needs/wants/desires. Don’t assume people know what is going through your mind.
14. Sometimes the best car trips are going no where with someone you love by your side and the open road in front of you.
15. Don’t limit yourself or sell yourself short. You might think and know someone else is better at something out there but why beat yourself up over it? Know your limitations and shortcomings and work and making them better.
16. Nothing is more relaxing than the touch of someone you love.
17. Dance. And sing. Even if it gets you looks let go with wild abandon.
18. Make new friends and acquaintances to go with ones you have. Never limit the number of friends.
19. Cut out the drama and poison you don’t need to deal with. It creates unnecessary stress and ultimately, who is it helping?
20. Learn to enjoy yourself. Love yourself. Know what a worthwhile individual you are. If you don’t believe it than why should others believe it?
21. Try to learn something new everyday. If you can’t do that, improve upon something you know everyday. Always strive to be a better person.
22. Be loyal to those around you and give devotion, patience, and caring to those who deserve it. Show those who you love that you do love them with your whole heart.
23. Listen to music. Read. Actual do these things and pay attention.
24. Relax.
25. Smile.

Technorati Tags: life lessons, birthday, family, important, lessons, life, twenty-five, aging

Now, as you remember, I have horrible road rage and get stressed out very easily when I’m the one behind the wheel. These fun adventures wouldn’t be fun if I was behind the wheel since I’d be convinced we’d both die and the cats would be alone and then pain and suffering would ensue… all because I was lost. I can’t handle getting lost in the car. I don’t know why. This drives Mack crazy since, often, when I’m lost instead of consulting my iPhone I’ll call Mack and demand to know where the hell I am and how do I get to the location I am seeking!?

This is why he got me a GPS before we moved to Florida. Best anniversary and graduation present rolled into one EVER.

Mack and I love to drive around or get out and walk around in new areas. It’s all part of my emerging from my shell of awkward shyness and getting to know people. Pushing past my shell of indifference and cynicism and know that yes, sometimes people do suck and hurt you but why shut out the world and the possibility of meeting new awesome people because of those few shitheads?

Sunday after we got all our stuff together and picked up my brother we headed up to Mount Rainier for the day. There is a lot of vast open spaces in western/central Washington and it was a marvel and joy to get to see and experience it. I think hands down the best part was seeing the alpacas tied in front of the fire station in this small town before we got to the park. Why were they tied in front of the fire station? There had to be a story behind that and boy you know we made up our own stories.

We managed to (eventually) got up to Paradise almost in time for sunset despite my brothers insistence that “if we keep stopping you’re going to loose the light.” I was thrilled with all the snow on the side of the road leading up to Paradise and kept exclaiming “SNOW! LOOK! SNOW!” much to Mack and Mark’s amusement. I mean, SNOW people! I won’t go into the depths of my disappointment that we didn’t really get snow this year… while on the other hand I remember what a giant pain driving in the snow is.

So conflicted.

As the sun started to set and I felt like a block of ice after climbing up onto the snow to get some beautiful shots of the mountain. On the way down the mountain we pulled over to look at a random water fall we’d passed on our way up and you know I wanted pictures of it. Unfortunately, there was a huge blockade of ice that stood a good six plus feet between me and the view of the water fall below. Normally I am tall and get some pretty nice shots due to my Sasquatch-esk genes but this time I was pretty much S.O.L..

… until Mack suggested I climb up the ice bank with my $1000+ camera. Trust him, he’d hold me up while I got my shots.

Awesome idea? Or potentially bad one? I blamed him for what happened but he argues that he didn’t force me to do it.

I, of course, thought at the time it was a good idea. So here we are, my converse shoes shoved into the ice bank as I leaned over to get a view of the waterfall with my expensive piece of equipment as I simultaneously hoped the ice wouldn’t give way and I’d fall a few hundred feet to my death.

Gulp.

Taking my last shot I told Mack I was done which was very fortunate since I lost my footing and started falling/sliding down the little ice bank into Mack who was still supporting me. Naturally my instinct was “SAVE THE CAMERA” and I held it away from the ice and my body as the other side of my body took the brunt of the impact.

My rationalization? My body will heal. Thus far I haven’t found the Nikon’s self-heal function. Guess that means I really should read that manual…

Now, a few days later, I have bruises the size of tennis balls on my left legs. Was it worth it? So long as you don’t touch my left leg I’d have to say yes. It was so worth it.

Technorati Tags: photography, day trips, exploring, photos, mountains, mount rainier, ice, snow, bodily harm, washington state, washington, cascades, adventures, nikon d90

Something stops me from sending out a mass email to my parents and brothers saying “this is my blog, enjoy the laughs!” It’s not like I post anything bad about them and/or stuff I wouldn’t say to their face. Trust me, I read dooce.com and know her blog’s background and learned from her lessons in the matter. So what’s stopping me?

I guess the funny part is that my boyfriends family knows about my blog and my own family only has a vague inkling about this blog. I’ve copied and pasted posts into emails and sent them out before (my brother’s 28th birthday and mother’s day). So, again, what is stopping me from giving them the URL?

Michelle and I have known each other since sophomore year of high school. I’m not sure I’ve told the story of how we met but I think for awhile Michelle thought I was a legit stalker of some sort. I sat down beside her at an assembly (don’t you remember those? Weren’t they fun? Not) and just struck up a conversation since she seemed like a cool person. A few days later I saw her in the library and it literally took me a week to get up the courage to talk to her and be like “Hey, let’s be friends!”

And she hasn’t been able to get rid of me since.

Anyway, the last time we hung out we wandered around downtown Seattle and explored Pike Place Market. Due to both of our general laziness in checking stuff before doing it we ended up there way before the market was actually open (oops) and just walked around downtown taking random photographs (me) and talking. We had a blast and Michelle quickly remembered how much I liked walking aimlessly downtown for hours at a time.

I’m weird. This isn’t news.

So Saturday I swung by her house, picked her up, and we headed north for the day. In a typical northwest fashion it of course was raining but honestly? It made the adventure all the more sweet. I mean, sure, we could have done without the ATM freaking out and not wanting me to exit the screen; or her leaving her purse at Subway; but hey, it was all in good fun!

And here are some photos from our wonderful adventure (used with my old camera due to it being rainy and wet that day):

(more at the flickr set)

All in all: another great adventure had with an amazing friend!

“Winter dies into the spring, to be born again in the autumn.”
- Marche Blumenberg

Technorati Tags: winter, photography, quotes

Poor innocent Noah.

(I’m too lazy to find a non-techno overlayed music version and thought this represented it so beautifully).

Yes, I went to art school. I also happened to go to an art school that had an emphasis on a future career and giving me the technical knowledge to pursue it. Personally I felt it would be a giant waste of time and money to go to a four-year university where I honestly see people waste their time and money studying pointless subject matters and having no idea what they want to do. I didn’t feel the need to party for four years and why get a pointless degree or go somewhere that I didn’t “need to” declare a major/focus for awhile?

My senior year of high school I decided, after visiting a few universities, that I wanted to pursue the art field. At the time I thought animation would be the route for me since I liked drawing. Sure, I changed majors a year and a half later to web design, but the path I decided to take would eventually end up with the training necessary for a technical job. When my brother visited that Christmas he told me I was “shooting myself in the foot” by not going to a four-year and I was “wasting my time.” The more people put down art school the more I wanted to go just to prove them all wrong.

I guess what irritates me the most is when people jokingly throw out the “art school major” as though it can excuse my mistakes or anything about me. Sometimes I’ll joke back and not get offended. Especially if I started it. What gets under my skin is when my friends who’ve done the four-year thing say these things to me. Especially the ones who had no direction and got some bullshit degree which isn’t serving them any good and nothing to do with the career path they’re on at the moment and don’t want to be. Just throwing out the “well, you are an art major” at me since I’ve said it before in the past is a sure fire way to get on my shit list which, if you hadn’t read my blog before, is a place you’ll stay for awhile.

Sure at art school I learned to paint the color wheel in my second quarter. How else would I know how to mix RGB to make secondary colors? I learned color theory and the psychology behind colors. I learned about shapes and how important they are. I learned so much about design and how it affects the world around us all. The art school education enriched me and, again, gave me the tools I needed to go out there and get jobs I feel passionate about.

I have two art degrees and did have to do some general education classes. I also assure you that I worked hard and had a 4.0 GPA both times in art school. Does it help knowing I took IB and AP classes in high school? Does that somehow prove my intelligence? There wasn’t a quarter that didn’t go by that I wasn’t on the Honor Roll and (usually) President’s List. I know I’m tooting my own horn but I get defensive about this subject. I’m not stupid. I’m actually pretty bright

The next time you insult my education I dare you to go enroll in art school and see how “easy” it is. Frankly I think the four-year university is on the whole a lot “easier” than the intense education I was provided. Get insulted at that statement and you’ll know how you’re dismissal of my intelligence and degrees feels.

So you, who thinks the art education is a cake walk, go enroll and learn. Then come and talk to me and tell me how easy it is. I dare you. I’ll be waiting.

Technorati Tags: art school, art degrees, rude people, smug bastards, four-year universities, superiority complexes

Emphasis on used to be.

just looking at it fills my eyes with tears

I know that I have been back in Washington since this past summer and should, technically, already have a Washington plate since I’m a resident. Trust me, I know these things. I think the avoidance comes in part from the psychological damage of getting a license plate in Florida and also I’m cheap and had my Florida plate and tabs valid until March of this year. It’s the small things I do to “screw over” the states I live in.

I have mentioned before about the “living in sin” in the south and what a giant pain getting my Florida plates and license was. Even now a year and a half later I still get the chills thinking about it. It was the first time I had transferred my information to another state (while in Arizona I was a student thus did not have to become a resident) so naturally that meant I didn’t know what the (pardon the language) fuck I was doing. This coupled with the whole, again, sin and judgement factor I got for living with my boyfriend OUT OF WEDLOCK in the south just… the idea of having to do the whole process again sounded less appealing then the nine cavities I had drilled this fall.

I’ve had so many good times with my Florida panther plate as well so didn’t want to give them up yet. My brother and I constantly joked around about it calling it “so proud” and “majestic” whenever we’d see it. When one of us was driving like a jackass in a slightly aggressive fashion we’d joke that the cars we’d pass (or Mark cut off) would claim it’s an honor to be cut-off/passed/etc off by such a proud panther.

I know my family is weird. Trust me, I know.

So here I am, the Monday before Christmas, and already upset before this whole situation went down. Looking back I can’t even remember why I was upset (probably the little things getting to me) that day since I had a blast seeing Avatar with a group of people. Afterwards I curled up into bed and watched some Law and Order: SVU before going to sleep. I was falling asleep fast, ladies and gentlemen, curled up in a ball of warmth and enjoyment that SVU provides –

– until my brother got home and text me asking me if my license plate was stolen.

Great.

Rushing upstairs I went outside and, sure enough, my license plate and screws had been stolen off my car that had been parked on the street. I’d like to say I handled the situation in a level-headed fashion and calmly went inside after seeing this but of course I didn’t. I burst into tears right there on the street (remember the little things) as I stared at the naked back of my car and wondered who the hell honestly steals license plates off of people’s cars? Right before Christmas?!

I went into the house sobbing and swearing. I demanded my brother answer me who would do this thing? Who would steal someone’s license plate right before Christmas? Didn’t they know that fate/whatever was already having a shitfest on me and the license plate was the last thing I needed? Mark, in his typical doctor level-headed-ness, assured me that it wasn’t the end of the world and to calm down.

Since that is exactly what you want to hear when you’re sobbing and upset.

I called my Mom, still in tears, to tell her of my misfortune (it now being 11:30pm) and ask her what to do now. Once she woke up from her dreamland stupor she informed me that I needed to call the police and inform them of the plate being stolen. Now, I don’t know if my Mom is super paranoid because of her job but she can sometimes be convinced that everything will be linked to a crime. She suspected (as did all of her co-workers) that the plate was probably stolen so that someone committing a crime could use it on their stolen car.

My majestic panther was going to be corrupted. Awesome.

So I called the non-emergency police number to report the plate stolen and I seriously think the operator thought I was a nut-job due to how upset I sounded. She took down my information and, half an hour later, another person at the police station called and took down all my information so that a police report could be filed.

I wish I could say that this is the end of the story but it’s not. I don’t know how many of you have had your plates stolen before but getting your plates replaced when you don’t have any? Kind of a major pain in the butt. It’s like a life lesson in “you should really replace your out of state plates asap” that I hope you learn from my mistakes. The following morning was spent calling the Florida licensing office to report the plate stolen, calling the Washington licensing office to figure out what they needed of me, calling my car financing to get a copy of the title, etc.

Again, I don’t think I can put enough emphasis on the point you should learn from my laziness and “sticking it to the state” of not replacing my plate and tabs until they expired: just replace them within a month of moving. Else you might lose your majestic panther and your heart will fill with bitterness.

Technorati Tags: license plates, stolen property, out of state plates, police reports, stolen license plates

Plus, the lack of ability to really be able to control the focus really irked me.

After much consideration (and lusting) I settled with the Nikon D90. My Mom owns a D60 so I’d be able to steal borrow her lenses and, after talking with a few photography experts and my wants/needs with my camera, I felt this was an excellent spring board into the SLR world.

Last week Mack and I decided to drive up the mountains to go see SNOW! I write this in ALL CAPS because we’d lived in Arizona and Florida and frankly you don’t see much in the way of snow in those states (for some odd reason). Generally I loath cold weather and can be found wearing about twenty sweatshirts now that we’re back in the northwest. With January here and only one day in which it snowed (and didn’t stick) I decided I need to see snow and realize what a pain in the ass (in a wonderful way, of course) that snowy white powder is.

Plus, it gave me the perfect excuse to use my D90. Motives, I do have them sometimes.

So instead of offering my inane ramblings about the snow and cold and our nice car trip I’ll let a few of the pictures do the talking instead:

(you can see the rest at the flickr set)

Technorati Tags: washington state, washington, nature, outdoors, photography, photos, mountains, winter, cold, snow, outdoor photography, plants, trees, evergreens, rivers, waterfalls

Friday night after I got home I noticed I had missed a call from my brother Noah at 11:30pm. Concerned, I called him back to find out the devastating news: they had to put down Midnight.

Midnight first came into our lives when I was a freshman in high school. One of Noah’s clients’ grandchildren was followed home from school by this big love of a black dog who wanted nothing more than a pet on the head and attention. Unfortunately they lived in a house with no yard and told Noah of their problem. My parents, already the happy owners of the spunky yellow lab Sierra, agreed to open their arms and hearts to another animal.

Sierra and Midnight were partners in crime and loved each other so deeply. Wherever Sierra went Midnight was usually close behind watching her back or there to reap the benefits of her begging for treats. Where Sierra was in your face and hyper active Midnight counter-acted her spunky energy and gave her a zen and calming force to keep her in check. Yellow and Black they were each other’s ying and yang.

Fall of 2006, Sierra was slowing down and not as much of the peppy puppy that she had been for years. She wasn’t old by any stretch of the imagination but the years were slowly catching up with her.

Then she was diagnosed with lung cancer.

Sierra bravely pushed forward and tried to hide her pain from the her beloved family. We saw her slowing down and tried to hope for the best outcome for her. Through it Midnight was her rock, cuddling up to her and knowing when she was pushing herself and silently getting her to slow down and take each moment as they came. By December she was in too much pain, the cancer spreading too rapidly, and we had to put her down.

We all handled her death really hard. The diagnosis was shattering and from the time we heard “cancer” we had a few short weeks left with her before it became too much. Everyone in the family was devastated by the loss of Sierra. None as much as Midnight.

I honestly don’t think Midnight ever got over the loss of Sierra. The years caught up to Midnight with her death and for weeks, months, years he’d go around the house as though part of him was missing. My parents eventually adopted another dog, Maggie, who served as an energetic companion but I don’t think Sierra could ever be replaced in Midnights heart. Sometimes you’d look at him and see the air of such sadness and loss it just broke your heart.

When I moved back this summer I was surprised at how old Midnight had gotten in the time I had been gone. Every time I went up to visit my parents I’d fear it’d be the last time I’d see Midnight alive. I tried taking as many pictures as I could but something in his past, before he came into our lives, gave him such an aversion to cameras that I didn’t want to stress him out and tried to let him sleep in peace. He had slowed down and the gravity of a life at its end weighted down upon him and brought an almost sense of peace to the great black dog.

Tuesday I went up to my parents house to do dinner with my brother and parents and Midnight wasn’t feeling well. He had had surgery to remove a tumor and slept most of the time. At one point he tried to get up but just couldn’t find the strength or energy to get up and stand on his legs. My brother helped him up and all of us avoided eye contact while praising Midnight. The end was near but none of us was really ready to accept it yet.

Friday night my Dad took the dogs out for their nightly walk before he went to bed. Midnight, tired and hating the dark, opted to stand in the driveway as my Dad took Maggie down the street to do her business. When my Dad got back Midnight had collapsed on the driveway and couldn’t get up despite his valiant efforts. Dad went upstairs in tears to find my Mom who called Noah thinking he was out. Fortunately, Noah was home and was able to bring his car around, wrap a warm blanket around Midnight, and drive him to the animal ER where he had to ultimately be put down.

Writing this entry is the first time I’ve cried about the passing of Midnight. I’ve been telling myself repeatedly good stories about Midnight and taken comfort in the fact that he had a long happy life with us. He was a well loved dog with a heart of gold and a doggie smile that could light up a room. I know if there is an afterlife that he’s reunited with Sierra and oh-so-happy. He’s sorely missed by all and left behind a void in all our hearts that yearns to be reunited. I’m glad his suffering is over and take comfort in him being apart of our lives for so long but still, it hurts and I miss our dog.

Midnight, you were a good dog and shall sorely be missed. We’ll never forget you boy.

Technorati Tags: dogs, dog, death, rainbow bridge, animal passing, euthanasia, pet death, animal death, loss, bereavement