Still Alice

I finished Still Alice today. It's our April book club book and it's been on my Nook for a couple of years. My first attempt in reading it was just a short 3 months after the DadUnit passed away.  It was too soon.  I got as far as page 30 and had to put the book down. It was too real to me at the time and I wasn't ready to experience what dad had gone through.

As I start to write this blog, it's hard for me to pull together my thoughts and emotions about this book. My heart aches as I read it and can only wish I had read it BEFORE Dad was diagnosed. It might have given me some more insight into what he was experiencing. I wasn't his main caregiver and lived his daily struggles, frustrations and issues through mom's daily frustrations, struggles, and issues.  Being a caregiver for someone with Alzheimer's is not for the ill hearted. It is not for sissy's.  You must have the back bone of steel and the patience of Job.  I watched mom struggle through the entire sordid experience of dad being diagnosed to the wretched disease killing him (though most Alzheimer patients don't actually die from the disease but some other reason).

Still Alice is about a well-educated, well respected Harvard professor. Her life is teaching and researching. In her early 50's she's diagnosed with Early On-set Alzheimer's.  The book is written from her perspective as this disease takes a hold of her and changes her to be a person she doesn't even recognize.

So many times while reading her experiences through the book I could relate it back to dad and what he may have gone through. The forgetting where you are, what day it is, why you're leaving, what word you're looking to use, etc.  But what hit me the hardest is how much I wish I had been more present with Dad and more accepting of this disease.  It goes without saying that when a person you love and adore comes down with Alzheimer's that person eventually becomes someone you don't recognize - as much as they may not recognize you.  It was frustrating for me to witness, and I never took a second, often enough anyhow, to think about how frustrating it was for him.

My heart ached for Alice and her family as they struggled to come to grips with this disease.  Some of the things her children say to her, I said to dad. Some of the "he's just being lazy and not wanting to remember" feelings I had. I remember there were times Mom and I would discuss whether he's "faking" it or was it just a good day. After reading this book I totally understand that there were good days and bad days and as much as I felt and saw the good days, so did dad.  

The parts that were hardest to read was how her husband, the caregiver, started to treat her. Caregivers, often, get the raw end of the deal. They become under appreciated by the Alzheimer's patient and take the brunt of all the "abuse" brought on by Alzheimer's.  I felt bad for John, her husband, and yet felt like I wanted to slap him sometimes because of his lack of understand or caring for Alice.  Because I now saw from Alice's eyes and how it made her feel.  I John's actions and the way he came to grip (or it could be argued not coming to grip) with Alice and this disease were spot on.  Those of us who have walked in his shoes, or the shoes of his daughters, understand all too well the need, or want rather, to not accept the diagnosis and just brush it under the rug and maybe it'll go away. Then one day the rug is gone and you have to deal with it. And somehow you find the strength, God knows where, and you do.

I don't think that I'm alone in the "not understanding what they're going through" bucket. How could we? We still have all our faculties. We still can form sentences, remember dates, remember people, etc. Still, I wish I had been more patient with him and at least "try" to understand.  I know there are times when I walk into the kitchen to get something and can't remember for the life of me what it was. I feel the mildest of frustration. If that was my daily life, I'd go mad.

Of course hindsight being what it is, I see now that a lot of my negative interaction with dad was fear speaking. I was just waiting for the day when would he stop recognizing me -it  played constantly in my mind - and I dreaded it and feared it. What then? Would he still be dad? Who would he be to me? Would I love him anymore? Or any less? I didn't have the answers then, and am not sure I have any answers now. I have a vivid memory of leaving Arizona one Christmas, hugging dad and thinking, my dad, the man who raised me, is no longer here. His shell is, but he had long since left the building.  

There's a part of the book where Alice gives  a speech to a bunch of doctors, not as a doctor who treats Alzheimer's but as a person who has it. It moved me. It made me understand even more what Dad experienced. Give it a read. If I could ask anything of you readers, if you encounter someone with dementia or Alzheimer's give them patience and love.

"We, in the early stages of Alzheimer's, are not yet utterly incompetent. We are not without language or opinions that matter or extended period of lucidity. Yet we are not competent enough to be trusted with many of the demands and responsibilities of our former lives. We feel like we are neither here nor there, like some crazy Dr. Seuss character in a bizarre land. It's a very lonely and frustrating place to be.

"I no longer work at Harvard. I no longer read and write research articles or books. My reality is completely different from what it was not long ago. And it is distorted. The neural pathways I use to try to understand what you are saying, what I' am thinking, and what is happening around me are gummed up with amyloid.  I struggle to find the words I want to say and often hear myself saying the wrong ones. I can't confidently judge spatial distance, which means I drop things and fall down a lot and can get lost two blocks from my home. And my short term memory is hanging on by a couple of frayed threads.

"I'm losing my yesterdays. If you ask me what I did yesterday, what happened, what I saw and felt and heard, I'd be hard pressed to give you details. I might guess a few things correctly. I'm an excellent guesser. But I don't really know. I don't remember yesterday or the yesterday before that.

"And I have no control over which yesterday's I keep and which ones get deleted. This disease will not be bargained with. I can't offer it the names of the US presidents in exchange for the names of my children. I can't give it the names of the state capitals and keep the memories of my husband.

"I often fear tomorrow. What if I wake up and don't know who my husband is? What if I don't know where I am or recognize myself in the mirror? When will I no longer be me? Is the part of my brain that's responsible for my unique 'me-ness' vulnerable to this disease? Or is my identity something that transcends neurons, proteins, and defective molecules of DNA? Is my soul and spirit immune to the ravages of Alzheimer's? I believe it is.

"Being diagnosed with Alzheimer's is like being branded with a scarlet A. This is now who I am, someone with dementia. This was how I would, for a time, define myself and how others continue to define me. But I am not what I say or what I do or what I remember. I am fundamentally more than that.

"I am still an active participant in society. My brain no longer works well, but I use my ears for unconditional listening, my shoulders for crying on, and my arms for hugging others with dementia. I am not someone dying. I am someone living with Alzheimer's. I want to do that as well as I possibly can.

"Please don't look at our scarlet A's and write us off.  Look us in the eye, talk directly to us. Don't panic or take it personally if we make mistakes, because we will. We will repeat ourselves, we will misplace things, and we will get lost. We will forget your name and what you said two minutes ago. We will also try our hardest to compensate for and overcome our cognitive losses.

"My yesterday's are disappearing, and my tomorrows are uncertain, so what do I live for? I live for reach day. I live in the moment. Some tomorrow soon, I'll forget that I stood before you and gave this speech. But just because I'll forget it some tomorrow doesn't mean that I didn't live every second of it today. I will forget today, but that doesn't mean that today didn't matter. "

My Brain Hurts

Exactly 2 months to the day I left my last job, I started a new job.

I know how this goes. I've been down this road a number of times - life as a contract worker.  This time I can't find anything really different in the situation other than to say I now work in a building and a team that is 99% men.

Case in point, I used the Women's Restroom (no idea why I capitalized that) 4 times today at varying intervals and never ONCE saw another woman in it. 4 our of the 5 stalls still had the seats up from presumably the cleaning crew. 

Still, I got up and managed to get myself out the door and to the building by 10am.  That will not be my normal working time, its just what fit in the new boss' schedule. The sun was out today so I drove top down as I determined the best route to the new building.

I now work in a "studio" building at Hotel CaliforniaSoft. The "studio" buildings are reserved for Xbox development, windows phone dev, and other entertainment type development. They aren't buildings the project manager has ever been in. So Studio X is my new home and in traditional Hotel CalifoniaSoft manner the layout appears to be designed by blind monks in Italy. Nothing makes sense. There is  no straight hallway in this building. There appears to be little "cubby" areas where a few offices reside - you wouldn't know they were there unless hypothetically you got lost coming back from the rarely used Woman's bathroom.

My first meeting was with the new boss L and a new co-worker G. The new boss laid out what I would be doing and provided me a nicely typed out "itinerary" of this new role.  It's all very exciting and I sat in this hard director's chair trying to appear like I knew what he was talking about, all the while wishing I was back at home sitting on the couch watching "I almost Got Away with It."

Such is the first day in any new job. There's new people to meet, new locations, new information and new acronyms. Oh man how Hotel CaliforniaSoft love their acronyms. I already have 20 on my quickly growing glossary I started at 10am.

Then it was off, down the hall, around the corner, down another hall to my new office. Oddly enough my new office (officemate included) has a window. It's rare, very rare, for contractors to have a window office and yet we got lucky. I don't have the story as to why yet, but I'm sure I'll wiggle it out of the new officemate.

The new officemate is a 20 something guy who's relatively new to his job too - 3 months new.  He'll be one of my main stakeholders in this project and from what I can tell, I'm going to thoroughly enjoy working with him. He's bright, he appears to shower, he didn't smell and he pronounced my last name correctly.

I then spent the remainder of the day reading.  Oh boy did I read. Naturally, nothing really found a home in my brain so I'll be re-reading tomorrow.  Still I found by the end of the day I felt more confident about this job than I had about the last.

So what is it I'm doing?

I'll be creating a data map for this team showing where all the data they receive from subscribers lives, what's being collected, and what, if any, audits are done with this data. Sounds easy enough, and I suspect that I may be a bit naïve about how "easy" this will be. There are "studio" sites all over the globe from whom I'll be tracking down this information. In some case, not many, we have contacts at this locals. In most we do not. So if herding cats, and finding a needle in a haystack sounds fun to you - this could have been your job.

I suspect this job will end by June 30th. The talk today was that I should be able to complete this task for the Xbox side of the entertainment house by the end of the fiscal year. Which means I'm done. There was some discussion about, depending on how successful this is, continuing on and doing this for Windows Phone and a few other areas this team is responsible for. So there is a "small" chance it'll be extended - we shall see. In any event, I'm planning as if it will end June 30th.

The ingrates who live with me (aka the demons/kittens) didn't even bother to greet me at the door when I returned tonight. In fact, for a moment as I climbed the stairs to the living room I thought maybe they had 1) killed each other or 2) got locked into a room or something (don't laugh - Linus locked himself into the bathroom the other day). As I crested the stairs to the living room, there they both were, still blinking lazily (is that a word?) as if I interrupted their nap. Good for nothings. Here I was all worried that they'd miss me, and from what I can tell...they did not. There's always tomorrow I suppose. Assuming I can find my way to the new office and back from the Woman's Restroom again.

Photography Anxiety

In preparation for my BIG ADVENTURE I've been looking at photos of each port of call, the bulk of them of Rome.  So many beautiful things to photograph - so little time.  

And there in lies the issue.

It starts with a small flutter in my tummy.  And gradually grows into an ache in the back of my neck.  My brain gets a bit fuzzy and the fear and worry start to set it.  

It's an odd feeling for me and has taken me some months to figure out what it is. I'm so concerned and worried that I'll miss a photo or opportunity of a photo that my mouth goes dry and I can barely think straight.  

What the hell is this?

 

It's photography anxiety. 

 

Don't go to google and look it up, it won't be there. I've tried. It's only been through countless hours of journaling (thanks to GlobeJotting) that I've discovered what this is.

I know that this trip is likely a trip of a lifetime (although I'd love to think that I'll back to Rome again and spend some time - I'm throwing a coin into the Trevi Fountain again just in case) and I think that feeling of not being able to return has me all shades of anxious. What if I don't get that one perfect shot? What if I miss something? What if… what if… what if…

I'm about to bare my soul here so be gentle with me.

 

I've come to realize a large part of why I like to travel is because of photography. I don't think that's unique in any way, I think that's a large part way a lot of photographers travel.  For me, its not always about wanting to experience a new culture. It's not to see something new, necessarily. It's to take pictures. To try to get that perfect shot that you can bring home and show people and they can be all "wow, what a great shot!"

I don't mean that in an egotistical way - I don't think. I know that my photography confidence - at least some small part - is boosted by the approval of others.  I never, hardly ever, look at my photos and think, "Wow, that's a good shot." I can only think of a handful where that's the case.  I have also come to realize that I don't think I'm alone in this. To some extent any photographer is waiting for appraisal about their photos. A least a little.

Here's the thing I've figured out. Photography is subjective. VERY subjective.  Asking how to take the "perfect" photo is likely a common question we photographers ask. If we could just learn to take that "perfect" photo our life would be complete  (dramatic I know, but that's kinda the feeling I have at times. Don't ask. It's one more thing for me to deep dive into - my inner censor won't let me go too deep on that one just yet.)

Because what is considered a "good" picture or "perfect" photo is, as I said, subjective. What I think is great varies drastically from what you think. A photograph can be exposed, composed and presented to exact standards based on what photography dictates and yet it can still not be perfect.  We all perceive the world in different ways. What's "blue" to me may not be "blue" to another. And what I forget above all when I think about the "perfect" photo is all our past experiences and our emotions play a large role in how we perceive photography.  Our emotional triggers cause us to react differently to images.

This doesn't help me too much with my anxiety, but it does help me put some things into perspective. First and foremost I need to relax, take a deep breath and just enjoy my trip.  Be prepared with the knowledge that I am going to miss something. We have a limited amount of time in each place, so yah I'm going to miss something. It's entirely likely that I'll be concentrating on not missing something and I'll miss something. Did ya follow that?

Second, I need to not see the sights through the camera lens. I've got so many examples of this that it warrants its own blog…later. I need to take in the sights with my eyes and put them delicately into my soul so that I can remember this trip for as long as my memory will allow (which is why I'll be blogging). I need to experience this trip. Live it. Feel it.

Finally, I need to put away the ego and learn to take photos for me - just for me. I'm not interested in selling my photos so they don't need to be perfect for everyone. Then need to be perfect for me. Just me.

Now, take a deep breath. Pack your camera bag. And let's do this.

Rome circa 1986

As I plan for my up and coming trip to Rome, I'm feeling nostalgic toward my trip in 1986.  In one of the writing exercises in the GlobeJotting book he suggests going back and journaling about a previous trip.  So I decided to go back and meditate and think about the trip in 1986.

 

28 years ago Rome was a different city, I presume. Trying to remember all the details of something that happened 28 years ago is difficult, but I'll give it the old college try. 

 

Why Rome? Well, TASIS (The American School in Switzerland - the boarding school I attended in 1986/87) has what's called In Program travels twice a year. The first is in the fall and the second in the spring.  The idea behind them is essentially a school sponsored trip. All the details are coordinated by the school so us kids just got on a bus/train and headed out. 

 

I joined TASIS in January 1986 and wasn't familiar with the 'in-pros" and the process to pick where you were going.  There was some talk the first month of potential trips, but nothing serious.  Finally it was "announced" what trips were available for which classes. It seems to me, anyhow, that they broke it out by classes, but maybe not. Rome was an option and I jumped at it.  I didn't know who of my new friends would be joining me on this trip, but I figured at least one or two would. 

 

I have no memory of how we got to Rome, I'm assuming it was via train. I have no real memory of the hotel in Rome. I have no real memory of who all was on this trip.  I have memories of three specific situations and that's all I've got. Oh wait, 4. I have 4 memories. 

 

Now keep in mind we were in Rome for 4 days.  Enough time to create some fantastic memories.  And it was 28 years ago, so I can't be responsible for my lame brain that can't remember everything. Which is why I'm turning to journaling. 

 

I have a total of 6 photos of Rome. None of them am I in. Remember it was 1986 and was WELL before digital cameras. I was a student on a budget and didn't have that much for film. The MomUnit and DadUnit did make sure I went to school with film, but taking photos of everything wasn't the way things were done back then. 

 

So back to the memories. 

 

The first memory is with my friend V. She and I hung out on and off during school and seemed to have the same interests in Rome.  We were walking down a street heading somewhere. V had a clutch purse she had under her left arm.  We had been walking for some time, and were tired. The sun was setting and it was a relatively warm evening.  We were chatting as two high school girls do and weren't really paying much attention to our surroundings.  A moped came screaming toward us and before we knew what was happening we heard a thud. V screamed and hit the floor.  I stopped and helped her up.  We were both stunned and I didn't know what had happened, but V was white as a ghost.  Her left shoulder she said was hurt.  We later figured out that the moped drivers had most likely been stalking us and noticed her clutch purse under her left arm. As the sped past us they made a grab, missed, and knocked V to the floor. She had a mighty bruise on her left shoulder. And we had one heck of a story. 

 

The next memory I have, I'm stunned I have no photos to share.  It involved the Colosseum. I mean Rome and Colosseum go together like peanut butter and chocolate in my book.  Alas, I have no photos of the Colosseum.  I do however, have one heck of a memory.  

 

The Colosseum is 2000 years old.  The school arranged for a private tour that included taking us into spots that the typical public could not access. One of those spots was in what they termed as the lion's den.  Essentially, under the floor of the Colosseum was originally a  maze of corridors and holding cells. Many of the holding cells had lions in them or other wild animals scheduled to fight.  We stood on the gravel and the guide provided us the history of the structure.  You could see everything from our vantage point. The actual floor has long since been destroyed so our vantage point was perfect.  The sun was out and it was warm as we stood listening to the guide.  I remember standing there and thinking of the number of people who had been in the stands all those years ago as well as the number of people who had died in this place. 

 

Part of the In-Program travel we were required to write an essay about a specific location. I chose the Colosseum.  At one point during the tour we stopped and I had to read my essay to the students on this tour with us.  My back was to the floor of the Colosseum and I read historical points to my friends who would have much preferred to be anywhere but there. There were stray cats everywhere in the Colosseum at that time and I had one winding between my legs and remember seeing 3 or 4 of them hanging out with my friends. 

 

From the Colosseum we walked to the Roman Forum.  I stood in amazement looking out over the Forum.  Thousands of years ago people walked these same streets. Could they have imagined what the world would have become?

The Roman Forum

An old structure in the Roman Forum

Another memory has to do with the Trevi Fountain.  We had some free time one evening and were allowed to go and do and see whatever we wanted.  V and I had a cheap dinner and then visited the Trevi Fountain. We both wanted to toss a coin in the fountain to ensure we'd return to Rome someday.  My 17 year old self never would have imagined that I'd be returning to Rome someday. And yet here I am … so guess who's going to the Trevi Fountain again and tossing a coin in the fountain? Ahhhh, this girl.

Ahhh the Trevi Fountain. How I love thee!

My last  memory is of the Vatican.  Our tour was again arranged by the school. I have vague memories of seeing the famous Mary and Jesus statue in St. Peters, but my real memory is of climbing the stairs of the dome to the scenic view it offered. My friend J and I climbed all 300 steps (not sure I can do that today) and were greeted with a breath taking (literally) view of Rome. The air was dirty and heavy, but the view was spectacular.  St. Peter's was going through renovations at the time and I remember complaining to J that I'd have this awful scaffolding in my photos and to this day I see it and cringe.

 

Then I have this random photo of the Pantheon. I don't remember much about visiting the Pantheon or even what it was about. I'm sure I shot this photo while walking around because I thought it was a cool structure. It is a cool structure, and I'm looking forward to visiting it as an adult to appreciate all that it is, and all that's in it.

 

Because of my visit to Rome 28 years ago, I've created a certain amount of anxiety and expectations for this trip. That's another blog for another day. I'm still working out those feelings, thoughts, emotions, etc.

 

New School Jitters

On the eve of starting a new job (we hope - I'm still not 100% sure I'm starting tomorrow), I'm struck with some thoughts. The warm sun, for now, is blaring through the window heating my insides.  The TV is yammering on about some crime being committed and how the CSI folks are going to solve it. I've seen this one before, so it allows my mind to wander.

I find myself in third grade starting a new school again. Specifically it's Sacajawea Elementary in Great Falls Montana. I went to 4 different schools in 3rd grade. This one, for whatever reason, stands out the most. It could be because the MomUnit had separated from the original father and we were living in a small apartment that barely had room for the three of us. I can't tell you the name of the teacher, or the name of any kids in my class. I can, though, vividly remember learning cursive there. Or practicing writing - okay maybe not so vividly.

Each time I started a new school I would revert to a personality that had served me well in previous new school situations. I was an outgoing, happy, go-lucky little girl - just shy enough to add some mystery to who I was and why I was a new student. I didn't, of course, realize what I was doing at the time. It's only been years later in thinking about how I started each new school that I realized it was, in essence, a defense mechanism to keep myself - mentally - safe.

As the years passed, I found myself the new student several more times. In fact, I went to 12 different schools during my educational years.  I never really begrudged that lifestyle. I think moving so much helped me be the person I am today. That being said, there's a certain amount of anxiety that rears its ugly head before a new school or new job.

The thoughts that run through my mind are likely not that unfamiliar or that different from most folks. I don't assume I'm that unique. I think it's inherently common to be "oh no I'm the new kid on the block coming into a situation where relationships have already been built." ACK…

What will the new job be like?
Will my new office mate like me?
Will the  new team like me?
Can I do this job?
Oh, god, what have I done?

I know there's a "process" I go through when starting a new job (or going to a new school in the old days). I've never really documented it or put it out there verbally, but I decided it's time to put these thoughts to paper. Or out on the Interwebs.

First thing I do is try to decide what type of reputation do I want to have. It doesn't seem like you need to think about that, and generally speaking the reputation I want to have is consistent with my personality type. A person with integrity. A person who communicates well. A person you'd want to have by your side in a crisis (though admittedly I can become a drama queen when there's a crisis.)

When I think about this reputation, I naturally shift to what skills am I going to need the most in this role? What skills will I need to sharpen? Where are my gaps? I don't normally write this out, but it's part of the learning of a new job I think. It becomes part and parcel of inserting yourself into a new role, a new team, and with a new boss.

From there I generally start to build my stakeholder map. It's very PM of me to do this.  I need to know who the key players are, how they affect me and my job, why I should care about them, etc. When I start any new project, part of my project plan is determining who the key stakeholders are. I build a RACI (basically a responsibility chart) for the most part.  In a new job, it's no different. A new job is essentially a new project, right?

Once I've gathered that intell I begin to put the pieces together of what this job is I'm doing. What are my tasks? What are the schedules? What are the key pieces I need to deliver in the first 90 days and hit them out of the ball park?  This I document, and review on a regular basis.  In any new job, but especially at Hotel Californiasoft, things change quickly in a new role.  It's imperative you keep yourself in the know of those changes. If you don't, you'll fail.

So now I have my stakeholder list and the key tasks with schedules documented. Now becomes the getting to know the key stakeholders. Setting up time to meet with them to not only introduce myself and provide them with details as to what I'm doing, but to get a handle on who they are and what makes them tick. Learning about other people's personalities really help in the long run when you need to get them to work for you or do things for you. You'll approach a developer differently than you'd approach a director for example.

One of the main people I interview and get to know is the new boss. Presumably I've had some meetings with him/her about the job, and this person (we'll use the pronoun him for the purposes of this new role since the new boss is a guy) will have helped me build the stakeholder map and task list. But what's vitally important to my success is learning my bosses work style.  I learn how to manage my manager and in that I learn how to best work with my manager.  It's imperative to have a conversation with my new boss about how he wants me to communicate with him. Does he want daily meetings for the first month? Does he want status reports? How does he prefer I communicate questions? Ask all these questions and then stick to how he prefers to work with you.

And so once the first day is over, and I find myself at home and my mind is swimming. It's almost guaranteed I'll dream about work and convince myself that I don't belong in this work. I know well enough to stop, breath and realize it's all part of the new job process.

Then that day will come when you feel like you've finally put all the pieces together and think you can actually succeed in this role. That's the sweet spot to me. That's where I want to be and quickly. 

I do find I approach a new job as if I have a clean slate. I mean, after all, everything I've done up to this point has prepared me for this job, right? All my past job experiences, successes and failures, will only help in this  new role. I cannot wait to start fresh and utilize my skills and knowledge to be successful.  

And much like starting a new school my stomach will twist and turn, my thoughts will be relatively scattered, and I will put on the positive, happy face and step into the unknown.  Stay tuned to see how this chapter turns out.

What I've Been Doing While You Weren't Watching

7 weeks! 7 Long, boring, weeks.  None of it was really that relaxing since stress was my roommate. But alas, I can relax again. I was unemployed for 7 weeks and now I am not.

That's right, I was offered a job this week and am thrilled and relieved to have a paying job before the pending vacation.  Phew.

I'm going to be on contract at Hotel CaliforniaSoft again.  Its a 3 month gig currently, and will most likely be renewed in June. See HotelCaliforniaSoft can't have a purchase order, or contract, that expands their fiscal year. Their fiscal year ends June 30th. So I've been told that they will renew. This girl isn't going to pretend they'll be renewing, no she'll be planning that they won't. I have learned my lesson a number of times...well maybe not "learned" it before, but I have this time.

I interviewed for this job on Monday and by Monday evening I had an offer. I wasn't sure if they'd hire me when I left the interview. The interviewers didn't really show their hand and I couldn't get a good read. So I strolled out of there assuming I'd be unemployed for another week. But alas, I am not. I'll fill you in on what I'm doing once I really understand what it is I'll be doing.

Also in the life of Jenn, I forgot to tell you about Sunday dinner - which was last Sunday. I've been, apparently, distracted - I've been finishing up working through the writing exercises in the book GlobeJotting.  I have filled up an entire notebook - well almost, there's like 2 pages left .  I have about 20 journals that I'll be converting to blogs at some point. The book is about travel journaling and I'm finding the exercises and information so useful as it relates to blogging that I'm going with it. There isn't any right or wrong here.

So...Sunday dinner, that's what I was talking about. There was a little incident during the day of Sunday dinner that had me off my point a little.  Something was said on FB from one of my would be Sunday dinner guests that made it sound like we were the most boring crowd of all time.  It had me miffed, honestly, and I wasn't really willing to confront this person at Sunday dinner. Not interested in ruining Sunday dinner because of short minded, condescending comment. I did what any Sunday dinner host would do...I opened a bottle of wine early.

This Sunday dinner was a themed Viva Italia.  Figured since next Sunday dinner I'd be in Italy, I might as well prepare by eating like an Italian before hand. I made Creamy Pest Lasagna and OH MY GOD it was good.  We finished the evening off with Affogato - which is essentially a scoop of gelato topped with a shot of espresso. Again...OMG...I need to have that in Italy (watch it will be one of those "Italian" foods that was made by an "American" and so doesn't exist in Italy).

We figured we'd all stare at Mr. Braspir since he was the only guy in the room. He's one of my favorite people and am glad he doesn't care at all if he's the only guy in the room. He's there to spend time with family and that's exactly what Sunday dinner is all about.

It's not about deep, dark conversations. It's about a light hearted, fun loving, relaxing evening to spend with people you love. And if some folks don't enjoy that and think we're not "deep" enough or have enough interesting conversations, that person can easily be removed from the invite list.

Journaling in the form of a blog

As you may be aware I've been reading this book about travel journaling. I've taken the information gleaned in this book and have pivoted it to be used towards blogging. After all my blog is my journal...mostly. There are some personal, very few, things that I just don't blog about. Not only are they not interesting, but I'm not prepared for the backlash some of those thoughts would have.

In this book, GlobeJotting, there are exercises to do in order to get better at journaling, and more importantly opening your  mind to more than just "first we did this, then we did that, then we at this, etc.  It's about picking all the details out and expressing them in a journal so in 15 years you can not only remember the experience but to live it through your writing.

I just came across an exercise that made me laugh out loud. 

Being that I'm unemployed this exercise is going to be all but impossible. Here's the exercise:

Write 3 to 4 things that happened today - do not exceed 4 - that you consider journal worthy. 

Um, 3-4 things that happened today to an unemployed person ... ? Right, I can't come up with 3-4 things interesting this month.

I can tell you about one interesting thing that happened last night...Sunday Dinner. 

God I love Sunday dinners.  It brings people I love together and allows us all to be ourselves and get caught up on the world, happenings in our lives, and the lives of others. We get to eat, drink and be merry without any effort. Last night as we sat around chatting I felt myself warm all over at the fact that I knew any person in that room had my back no matter what. 

The night started out with an Italian theme. I've been reading so much about Rome that it only felt right to have the Sunday dinner before the trip be all about Italy.  I made lasagna and we drank Italian wine. We had affogato (gelato with a shot of espresso over the top) for dessert.  What we didn't do is speak in Italian, and that's ok.

We did take our usual not so normal photo.  I didn't bother taking a "normal" one since I never used it for anything, seemed like a waste.  Mr. Braspir was the only man in the room and so his harem decided we should all stare at him in admiration. Even the kittens were taking part.

These are some of my most favorite people in the world. I'm so thankful that they are in my life. I'd be even more thankful if I had a job, but that has nothing to do with those people.

La Dolce Vita

Ah yes, the sweet life. We all dream of it. We all have differing definitions of what "it" is. Right now for me, it's all about researching for my trip. I'm researching everything from, best types of photos to take that aren't tourist trap photos to how best to document it all.

It's the latter that I'm thinking about today with regards to the sweet life.

I love to write. I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, GREAT at it. And that's ok with me. I still feel inclined to put my thoughts down for all the world to read. I've had plenty that I've needed to say and feel that 99% of the time, most folks really don't care. But if I can entertain my readers for just a moment with a tale of a day in the life of a tourist in Rome, and allow that person for one moment to be transported to the small café I'm sitting in (or will be sitting in sometime in April) then I have done what I've set out to do.

Photo courtesy of Amazon

I'm knee deep into a book I randomly bought off Amazon called "Globejotting - How to Write Extraordinary Travel Journals".  This book called to me on so many levels. Not only can it help me to have "extraordinary" travel journals, but perhaps it can help me have "extraordinary" life journals.  This blog is, after all, my journal.

Our trip is a trip of a lifetime. I've not been back to Rome since I was a junior in high school The experience I had then was one I will never soon forget. Back then in 1986 the Internet didn't exist. Facebook didn't exist. I couldn't, back then, tell my friends at every second what I was doing. No, it all had to be written over and over again in letters back home.

But now, as an adult I want to experience Rome as an open-minded adult who wants to share it with you.  Not everyone likes to travel. For some the thought of getting on an airplane feels them with such anxiety they just don't do it. For me, travel is in my blood. I haven't been to Europe in a long time - unless you count the work trip to the UK in 2007. And I want to remember it all. Thus the book.

I'm on page 49 and just started reading it today (life of an unemployed PM, right?). This book is well written with a hint of humor and enough knowledge without being condescending. It's really a guide book for writing. Dave Fox, the author, has little exercises throughout. I'm not doing them all today, choosing to take my time with them and go back and work through them once I'm done with the book.

So here's the thing, this book has awaken another layer of what I want with regards to my writing. My current writing is shallow, at best. Boring at worst. I tell the story of my daily life without any real depth. And at times, that's ok. But what about telling deep stories? What about some of the memories I have that have stayed with me? Can I tell those stories to you in a way that will make you want to come back and read more? I think I can. And with Dave's book, I plan to try.

My trip is a mere 33 days away. So much needs to happen before then - primarily I need a job.  Aside from that, I'm taking this time off to practice writing/journaling, and learning Italian. In the next 33 days I hope to bring you some tales of the past trips to Europe, and have you ride along side my anxieties, excitement, expectations, etc of this coming trip.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to the book.

Weekend Review

Because I know you're dying to know what I did this weekend, I'll put you out of your misery and tell you.

Friday - I did a whole lot of nothing...

Saturday - I did a whole lot of nothing...

Sunday - I did a whole lot of....wait...no that's wrong. I'm getting my weekend confused with my week days (oh hahahaha I misspelled "week" as "weed" - now that would have a WHOLE other meaning.)

Right, so back to the weekend. Did you know in Saudi Arabia their "weekend" is Thursday and Friday? True story.

My weekend, however, started on Saturday morning. I got up at my normal time. I had my normal coffee and I took my normal but to West Seattle to have breakfast with the Pantry Goat. I specifically wanted to go to the Chelan Café in West Seattle because it's the one place I know has corn beef hash out of the can. I love that stuff. Its funny to me that I "search" for places that serve you stuff out of the can.  Homemade corn beef  hash on the menu? No thanks.

After breakfast, the Pantry Goat had "talked me into" ripping all her CDs onto her iTunes account so I headed to her house to get her computer and CDs.  She really didn't "talk me into it" cuz I'm bored and I needed something to do during the week.  Plus she said I could have any of the music I wanted.

Saturday night I took the Seattle SIL as a plus one to my friend Photogirl's birthday party.  She really knows how to throw a party too. The venue was this little place called The Stables and it had the coolest, vintage-y stuff all over the place. I could spend hours in there with my camera.  But alas, we weren't there to take photos, we were there to help PhotoGirl ring in her 50th birthday. And ring it in we did.

You may recall that The Yank, PhotoGirl and I went wine tasted some weeks ago to find wine for her to serve at her party.  SSIL and I made almost a beeline to the bar to get our wine on.  We did get stopped momentarily by the birthday girl and her husband to welcome us to the party and introduce us to some family members. 

You'll notice my glass is actually empty. I had two glasses by then and knew I had to drive home so I refrained from further drinking. SSIL stopped at 2 too, but she totally could have drank me. She deserves it. She's a great plus 1 to take with you, always willing to go and have fun.

Sunday I was up at my normal time, and set out to meet my friend Meg-A-Roonie in Ballard to go to lunch and then potentially go shoot some photos.  We landed ourselves at Skillet in Ballard and after feasting on really good comfort food, we both decided a nap was more likely in our future than photography. But we did have to top on our way home and visit the new Starbucks in Ballard that's made of shipping containers. I love that they're doing that.

If you're ever in Ballard, and are hungry, I highly recommend Skillet. OMG, sooo good. I had their chicken Sammy and if you can imagine it, it was two thighs deep fried in a fennel crust on a potato roll with pickled jalapeno aioli. Yah, feel that? Its your arteries hardening. But once in a while it's worth it.

Today I got some sad news that my good friend Mike's mother passed away. We lost Mike on Feb 10th last  year and to lose his mom just a year later just breaks my heart. My heart aches for his sister and his dad who are left to feel such a significant loss again.