Hmm... so, what's been going on with me? Well, I spent time with family and friends on Thanksgiving. Went to lunch with Captain MM (Lady Captain and longtime crew & Puget Sound Boat Trash Club Member) last week. We "discussed" the politics at the Seaport, and his true love Julie (sister to other Lady Alum), over delicioso Cuban sandwiches and chai. Then we hit Second Ascent and Kavu so he could buy gifts for his sweetie. I started another job - doing warehouse work on the weekends and afternoons when I have energy after my other temporary part time job. John Boy called (my favorite Lady crew to take orders from, wrestle with, and cuddle with now and then) - truly a highlight of my last week - he and Starr (Portlandite punk music connosseur, cranially tattooed & JB's main squeeze and fellow Lady cook) were cruising around Broadway, on their way to a wild night with the Little's in Aberdeen. Everyone is offering him sweet jobs, and we talked about how he needs to go get his license, because everyone will always be offering him great jobs anyway. Sounds like that is his goal, which makes me very happy, because John Boy is the kind of person you want in charge of the show. Right up there in the legendary ranks of Captain Evil (young Pirate's of the Caribbean star and Lady Captain) and Captain A. (sailing captain prodigy and alum of many ASTA boats)
P-Funk (one of my best girlfriends from Hawaii, now living in LA) called. She's making her own music now! Yippee! She is going to send me a CD, so I'm stoked to hear what she's come up with. Sasha (another crazy friend from Hawaii, who used to work at the Ranch with me, now living in Denver) called and we're still discussing Denver for the winter if these jobs don't pan out. What am I saying? I would freeze. I would rather hook up with Sasha after she rids herself of that condo, somewhere warm. Like Austin or Florida. Pru (my best he-friend in Texas, also met in Hawaii) and Tenacious (Pru's close friend going to school in Lubbock) went to a renaissance fair near Austin and both of them sent me pics of all that craziness. Scuba Steve (heeelarious ex Navy diver from San Diego) was with them, and is getting ready to head out to the Lady for his volunteer stint that starts the day after Christmas. I've let him know all the proper gear to have. Though finding a marlin spike in Texas ain't easy, I guess.
When I live on land and have email access, I communicate with friends to the point that keeping up with them and working AND making sure I get enough sleep gets pretty challenging. Every day I'm wishing I could fly to see P-Funk, or Sasha, or the boys in Texas, or go up to PT and hang out with the boat trash up there... or just be somewhere warm with a cell phone and a computer where I can suck on some passionfruit pods and be WARM, and hang out, sail somebody's boat and BE WARM. How come I can't get paid to do that? Or can I.....
My dad's wife has become very possessive of him and my grandfather's house, and she wants me OUT. But my dad wants me to stay, and I still haven't made enough to move elsewhere, nor do I have a permanent job yet, so I'm gonna stay there for a little longer. It's kinda uncomfortable, tho. Remember The Shining? Yeah.
Just finished reading "The Hungry Ocean" and I'm almost done with "Red Sky in Mourning". Both being first hand accounts of different boating experiences/stories by not so much excellent authors, but OK stories nonetheless. I would actually recommend the latter to young female sailors, and my ex boyfriend, because the heroine is the exact girl he's looking for in life.
I might be setting up my own personal internet/computer at home tonight - we'll see. Dad thought his old computer was kaput but I cleared massive space on the drives and it's happy now, so he gave it to me. Laters!
Extreme Cuddling!
Every week the church by my house changes the witty, pro-God phrase on it's lighted signboard. This town is tiny and has very few big signs. The church's is always on - glowing white and bright through the darkness and fog as people make their way to the ferry dock. It's on all through the night for the sinners that empty out of the bars. There's about 2 dozen businesses in town and 4 of them are bars. Or maybe it's on all night for the people "working late" across the water in the city... the ones who put ads in back of The Stranger:
AFTERNOON DELIGHT
40yo WM seeks 28-45yo
HWP female for Extreme
Cuddling. I'm available
weekday early eves. No
strings! Be my Part Time
Lover? 555-6969
Last week the sign said "Coincidences are God's way of remaining anonymous". I know that a fundamental belief in Christianity is to put your life into God's hands, to "Let Him decide", but I always hated that because what strong, intelligent person whats to let someone else determine their path? You can give up, say "I can't handle it!" and another devout churchgoer with a peaceful expression and knowing tone will put her hand on your should and say "Do not worry. God will show you the way."
Well, OK then! That makes things a lot easier for me! Wait, didn't the Green River Killer, Osama bin Laden, and millions of Bush supporters think that God was showing them the way? But how can anyone say that their message of divine direction is more accurate than another's?
This tangent about the sign somehow stemmed from reading it this morning. It was changed to read: "If God is your copilot, switch seats". And I was thinking how great it would be to switch a few letters to make it read "If Dog is your copilot, switch seats". Or maybe put that on a tee shirt with a picture of a dog with a human passenger in a truck, and the dog looking a little like Toonces when he goes over a cliff.
AFTERNOON DELIGHT
40yo WM seeks 28-45yo
HWP female for Extreme
Cuddling. I'm available
weekday early eves. No
strings! Be my Part Time
Lover? 555-6969
Last week the sign said "Coincidences are God's way of remaining anonymous". I know that a fundamental belief in Christianity is to put your life into God's hands, to "Let Him decide", but I always hated that because what strong, intelligent person whats to let someone else determine their path? You can give up, say "I can't handle it!" and another devout churchgoer with a peaceful expression and knowing tone will put her hand on your should and say "Do not worry. God will show you the way."
Well, OK then! That makes things a lot easier for me! Wait, didn't the Green River Killer, Osama bin Laden, and millions of Bush supporters think that God was showing them the way? But how can anyone say that their message of divine direction is more accurate than another's?
This tangent about the sign somehow stemmed from reading it this morning. It was changed to read: "If God is your copilot, switch seats". And I was thinking how great it would be to switch a few letters to make it read "If Dog is your copilot, switch seats". Or maybe put that on a tee shirt with a picture of a dog with a human passenger in a truck, and the dog looking a little like Toonces when he goes over a cliff.
Amazing News!
I'll let her emails speak for themselves....
"dear kim, Micah and I are having a baby in may,I am not sure where we will live, but hopefully we will be in san diego when the lady gets there. Then I can show offmy fat belly. as soon as the baby is old enough, we will raise it at sea. This should pretty rad, and by rad, I mean totally sweet. fair winds, tu
we aren't going to peru, for the sake of saving money. Micah may be captain on the Highlander sea, that means we will live in Port Huron for three years or so living in a big house, and vacationing and doing coastal sail training in the winter. I am going to try to find boats willing to take me and the baby as well, but I don't want Micah feeling traped in the 9 to 5 life. So he will deffenetly be on the Lynx and Lettie for a good part of the year if only to keep him salty. How ever if he doesn't get the job on the hihglander sea, then he will get a licence upgrade, and patch up the year will what ever captain positions untill he gets a more permenet posision on sometihing simmiler. Feel free to spread the news, I don't have that many addys for old friends. Do you have alans e mail?
well see you,
kiss them for me,
2
"dear kim, Micah and I are having a baby in may,I am not sure where we will live, but hopefully we will be in san diego when the lady gets there. Then I can show offmy fat belly. as soon as the baby is old enough, we will raise it at sea. This should pretty rad, and by rad, I mean totally sweet. fair winds, tu
we aren't going to peru, for the sake of saving money. Micah may be captain on the Highlander sea, that means we will live in Port Huron for three years or so living in a big house, and vacationing and doing coastal sail training in the winter. I am going to try to find boats willing to take me and the baby as well, but I don't want Micah feeling traped in the 9 to 5 life. So he will deffenetly be on the Lynx and Lettie for a good part of the year if only to keep him salty. How ever if he doesn't get the job on the hihglander sea, then he will get a licence upgrade, and patch up the year will what ever captain positions untill he gets a more permenet posision on sometihing simmiler. Feel free to spread the news, I don't have that many addys for old friends. Do you have alans e mail?
well see you,
kiss them for me,
2
Pub Lick Announce Mints
(And Disclaimers)
Old Lady crew are emailing me with warm hellos for Yuri. Yuri and I broke up in July. Although I'd love to be in a warmer climate, I am not still in the Caribbean, and quite happy about that.
I no longer have much email access, which is reflected in my sporadic and haphazard postings lately. I work 4 hours per day, and have become quite busy at work so tinkering with blogger isn't always a good idea.
Not only that, but my dinky digital camera fell out of my pocket on the bus, so no more pics either!
But hey! This blog will not fade into oblivion. I've got a computer to save entries on disk, then I'll bring that into work and post them really quick.
Disclaimer - I haven't really been able to put a lot of thought and effort into postings lately, but my old ones are much more thoughtful - especially from August & September. I'll get back to that style, but lately I've been more into telling stories.
Got emails from Krunch, Dreadlocks, Sasha, Starr, MarkO. All seem well. I might get to see Starr on Turkey Day, and MarkO is scooting around PT like nobody's business. Sasha is in Denver and thinks I should move in with her and help pay the mortgage on her condo while working at a ski resort (brrr!). Dreadlocks says I can come help prep his boat in Cali and sail her too, which would be first choice if all this job stuff went to hell.
Sooo.... tonight was my sister's closing night for her high school play. Afterwards I went with other students' relatives to the cast party, where the kids got all hepped up on pixie stix and lollipops and started up conga lines and playing chubby bunny. It's hard to not be happy and entertained while watching a big group of teenage drama geeks hang out.
Got to see my cousin J. Bigs. I have three boy cousins, all brothers, and not really cousins of mine. They are my ex-stepmother's half-sister's stepsons. Except for J. Bigs - he's actually her son. The other two are K. Bigs and H. Bigs. Both much older. All of them grew up in the Bothell burbs. J is a great kid. He's fluent in Spanish, motivated, into volunteering and non-profits. We talked about non-profits a bit. He explained how lots of them get a grant for 20k when the actual need is only for 5k, but 20k pays for inflated salaries, trips, etc. I explained how a "discretionary fund" works; it means the donated money is used at the non-profs discretion, which equates into parties and liquor. But we were talking specifically about huge non prof organizations that bring in billions of dollars and definitely deserve a little morale boosting now and then. J Bigs is "dating" rather than getting serious, which is great, because the whole concept of dating seems foregone nowadays, and wouldn't it be great if people got to know each other before committing? Even better - to be dating more than one person at a time so's you can give yourself a little grounding, a little perspective, rather than pinning ones hopes on a romantic notion of "the one" or trying to fill your lonely void with the first friendly soul that wants to hold your hand. So good for him.
J Bigs spent a long time down in Mexico over the last year. He had told us stories of how the bus drivers down there have to pay a lifetime of damages to any pedestrian they hit and injure with the bus. But if the pedestrian dies, then they just get retrained and go back to work. This has resulted in drivers who accidentally injure a pedestrian to TURN AROUND and go back to finish the job! And this isn't something that's just happened once or twice! Crazy!
Overheard while walking downtown Friday night:
"All the lights change right on time!" - little kid walking through crosswalks with his family
2 women and a man slurping Ivars clam chowder at ferry terminal (I think one had just taken a trip to Japan) - "So, didja do some karee-okee'n over there?"
"No she didn't... Karaoke is an American thing!"
"Well wait, we saw it in Lost in Translation, so they must have it in Japan"
Old Lady crew are emailing me with warm hellos for Yuri. Yuri and I broke up in July. Although I'd love to be in a warmer climate, I am not still in the Caribbean, and quite happy about that.
I no longer have much email access, which is reflected in my sporadic and haphazard postings lately. I work 4 hours per day, and have become quite busy at work so tinkering with blogger isn't always a good idea.
Not only that, but my dinky digital camera fell out of my pocket on the bus, so no more pics either!
But hey! This blog will not fade into oblivion. I've got a computer to save entries on disk, then I'll bring that into work and post them really quick.
Disclaimer - I haven't really been able to put a lot of thought and effort into postings lately, but my old ones are much more thoughtful - especially from August & September. I'll get back to that style, but lately I've been more into telling stories.
Got emails from Krunch, Dreadlocks, Sasha, Starr, MarkO. All seem well. I might get to see Starr on Turkey Day, and MarkO is scooting around PT like nobody's business. Sasha is in Denver and thinks I should move in with her and help pay the mortgage on her condo while working at a ski resort (brrr!). Dreadlocks says I can come help prep his boat in Cali and sail her too, which would be first choice if all this job stuff went to hell.
Sooo.... tonight was my sister's closing night for her high school play. Afterwards I went with other students' relatives to the cast party, where the kids got all hepped up on pixie stix and lollipops and started up conga lines and playing chubby bunny. It's hard to not be happy and entertained while watching a big group of teenage drama geeks hang out.
Got to see my cousin J. Bigs. I have three boy cousins, all brothers, and not really cousins of mine. They are my ex-stepmother's half-sister's stepsons. Except for J. Bigs - he's actually her son. The other two are K. Bigs and H. Bigs. Both much older. All of them grew up in the Bothell burbs. J is a great kid. He's fluent in Spanish, motivated, into volunteering and non-profits. We talked about non-profits a bit. He explained how lots of them get a grant for 20k when the actual need is only for 5k, but 20k pays for inflated salaries, trips, etc. I explained how a "discretionary fund" works; it means the donated money is used at the non-profs discretion, which equates into parties and liquor. But we were talking specifically about huge non prof organizations that bring in billions of dollars and definitely deserve a little morale boosting now and then. J Bigs is "dating" rather than getting serious, which is great, because the whole concept of dating seems foregone nowadays, and wouldn't it be great if people got to know each other before committing? Even better - to be dating more than one person at a time so's you can give yourself a little grounding, a little perspective, rather than pinning ones hopes on a romantic notion of "the one" or trying to fill your lonely void with the first friendly soul that wants to hold your hand. So good for him.
J Bigs spent a long time down in Mexico over the last year. He had told us stories of how the bus drivers down there have to pay a lifetime of damages to any pedestrian they hit and injure with the bus. But if the pedestrian dies, then they just get retrained and go back to work. This has resulted in drivers who accidentally injure a pedestrian to TURN AROUND and go back to finish the job! And this isn't something that's just happened once or twice! Crazy!
Overheard while walking downtown Friday night:
"All the lights change right on time!" - little kid walking through crosswalks with his family
2 women and a man slurping Ivars clam chowder at ferry terminal (I think one had just taken a trip to Japan) - "So, didja do some karee-okee'n over there?"
"No she didn't... Karaoke is an American thing!"
"Well wait, we saw it in Lost in Translation, so they must have it in Japan"
Banana Gin
What a great day! Ok, so I finally got out of bed 10 minutes before I was due to leave for my ferry, but I made it! And thank god I did, because my 2 bosses wanted to meet with me, get to know me a little better and see what I was capable of. They want me to stick around a little longer and give me more responsibility.
Thanks to my internet access at work, I was able to make lunch plans with one of my favorite captains coming to town, and print out passport renewal forms.
Our receptionist was giving out chocolate chip cookies as I left work, so I happily waited at the busstop with my cookie, on my way downtown to take a training class for this software used at work.
The sweetest part of the day, totally making up for having to run around in too-small shoes for hours, was waiting for the downtown ferry, which I hardly ever use, and running into my old shipmate Princess of Mars! Wearing her new Lady jacket, of course! I had only seen her one day this year - during the summer in PT. We gave big hugs and in our 10 minute conversation decided to be roommates and look for an apartment in Seattle within the next few months.
Princess of Mars had been chasing pigs all day and was gearing up for a weekend of slaughtering turkeys. Hopefully after my sailing gig on Sunday I will be able to help her family out with the plucking and prepping. It may be that we were the only two young women in downtown Seattle excitedly discussing the slaughter of turkeys this weekend.
Also- it looks like I'll be volunteering at a benefit/document premier in December...
AND the infamous Davy emailed me from Iraq! Crazy Davy, Drunken-Dory-Drivin'-Davy, Goatee-Rippin' Davy. He's still alive (thank god again!) and is begging for rum. He said there's no good liquor there, and he had to drink Banana Gin and thought it was OK, which means his situation is pretty bad. Davy is a civilian working as an arabic translator. This really scored us points at the middle-eastern restaurant we frequented last year in Marina del Rey. We all love Davy, except for Strange Girl, who got thoroughly abused by him at the "P" Party last winter, and hopefully he won't stay in Iraq forever.
Thanks to my internet access at work, I was able to make lunch plans with one of my favorite captains coming to town, and print out passport renewal forms.
Our receptionist was giving out chocolate chip cookies as I left work, so I happily waited at the busstop with my cookie, on my way downtown to take a training class for this software used at work.
The sweetest part of the day, totally making up for having to run around in too-small shoes for hours, was waiting for the downtown ferry, which I hardly ever use, and running into my old shipmate Princess of Mars! Wearing her new Lady jacket, of course! I had only seen her one day this year - during the summer in PT. We gave big hugs and in our 10 minute conversation decided to be roommates and look for an apartment in Seattle within the next few months.
Princess of Mars had been chasing pigs all day and was gearing up for a weekend of slaughtering turkeys. Hopefully after my sailing gig on Sunday I will be able to help her family out with the plucking and prepping. It may be that we were the only two young women in downtown Seattle excitedly discussing the slaughter of turkeys this weekend.
Also- it looks like I'll be volunteering at a benefit/document premier in December...
AND the infamous Davy emailed me from Iraq! Crazy Davy, Drunken-Dory-Drivin'-Davy, Goatee-Rippin' Davy. He's still alive (thank god again!) and is begging for rum. He said there's no good liquor there, and he had to drink Banana Gin and thought it was OK, which means his situation is pretty bad. Davy is a civilian working as an arabic translator. This really scored us points at the middle-eastern restaurant we frequented last year in Marina del Rey. We all love Davy, except for Strange Girl, who got thoroughly abused by him at the "P" Party last winter, and hopefully he won't stay in Iraq forever.
Caravan!
Tenacious Hunter thinks a nomadic community would be more fun and interesting. He's absolutely right, but few people are adventurous enough to join something like that. Since my teens I've made lists and recorded ideas; all huge plans for starting a gypsy-like community. Original plans involved a bus, a series of campers trucks and RV's (have you read "The Infinite Plan"by Isabel Allende?). In my motorcycle days I entertained thoughts of a biker community - something a little more civilized than the one that Cher & her boyfriend character hung out in the movie Mask, maybe more along the same road as Zen & The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, but with more people.
Nowadays I'm pretty anti anything loud or gas-guzzling (besides mass trans), and I'm very pro DIY & exercise, so if I were to really be far-reaching in my community-building goals, I think that bicycles and tents would be the way to go. We could research all the volunteer organizations that allow camping and provide food, like this wolf-rescue place I found online last year.
I only want to go on long biking excursions in warm weather, and flat surfaces, to start. This is do-able long term for the independently wealthy, or just for a season of traveling for the resto of us.
Nowadays I'm pretty anti anything loud or gas-guzzling (besides mass trans), and I'm very pro DIY & exercise, so if I were to really be far-reaching in my community-building goals, I think that bicycles and tents would be the way to go. We could research all the volunteer organizations that allow camping and provide food, like this wolf-rescue place I found online last year.
I only want to go on long biking excursions in warm weather, and flat surfaces, to start. This is do-able long term for the independently wealthy, or just for a season of traveling for the resto of us.
Good Looking
The biggest difference between a good job and a bad job has a lot to do with setting. Some of the most beautiful places I have worked became close to intolerable if I cross trained into a position with no view, no scenery to look at and bring me peace. At the ranch in Hawaii, after being "promoted" to a full time position, I had to stay indoors, with not even one window. The privacy was nice, since I was living first in a tent in my friend's backyard jungle then on the porch of a two bedroom apartment in Waikiki with 5 other friends. People in offices forget how important a view can be. Or just natural light, for that matter. Thanks to artificial lighting, our biological clocks are all wacky. It screws up our sleep habits and mentrual cycles (and therefore birth cycles) that are supposed happen naturally.
Anyway, everyone is inspired by beauty. In the Grand Canyon I worked in the group sales office (arranging accommodations and tours for large groups, weddings, company retreats, etc.). My walk to work in the morning presented vast canyon views, deer and coyote. On my lunch I got to sit on the edge of the canyon and dangle my feet over the side (showing off in front of tourists, for sure) with my lunch in my lap. My office window, like the one I have now, had a view of trees and sky. But even when I was out at sea aboard the brig, or down in Tortola aboard the bareboat charters, doing the job of cook gave me only the view of the small cabin and galley, and kinda drove me bonkers.
I remembered my opinions on this today when I got off the bus and walked to work. The first thing I saw upon reaching the grounds of my workplace was this. It put a smile on my face and proved that even a manmade landscape can be enjoyable and inspiring.
Anyway, everyone is inspired by beauty. In the Grand Canyon I worked in the group sales office (arranging accommodations and tours for large groups, weddings, company retreats, etc.). My walk to work in the morning presented vast canyon views, deer and coyote. On my lunch I got to sit on the edge of the canyon and dangle my feet over the side (showing off in front of tourists, for sure) with my lunch in my lap. My office window, like the one I have now, had a view of trees and sky. But even when I was out at sea aboard the brig, or down in Tortola aboard the bareboat charters, doing the job of cook gave me only the view of the small cabin and galley, and kinda drove me bonkers.
I remembered my opinions on this today when I got off the bus and walked to work. The first thing I saw upon reaching the grounds of my workplace was this. It put a smile on my face and proved that even a manmade landscape can be enjoyable and inspiring.
Reality Doesn't Always Bite!
It's been a good day! Nanette made some tasty banana bread, then we drove along Alki to Schmitz Park in West Seattle so she could do a little research on old-growth forest. I found my first toxic red capped mushroom! There were lots of mushrooms. Nope, I didn't eat any. Giant cedars and firs, too. Really cool for being within the Seattle city limits.
We went to the Ballard Fred Meyer which was way too crowded, then came home and watched Before Sunset, which is going on my "favorites" list. What a nice concept - Before Sunrise came out when the characters and I were in our early 20's, believing in romance and hope and idyllic love. Although a little disheartening, here we all are in our 30's, with reality having set in years ago, trying to figure out where the balance is. Trying to not get hurt or make silly decisions, but not comfortable with abandoning hope, magic and mystery either. Nanette and I were worried that Ethan Hawke was going to use this movie as an opportunity to get philosophically pretentious and proselytize, but instead the movie was fast-moving, the script good, the actors had great chemistry, and I felt like I could very much relate to Julie Delpy's character.
After the movie we tried some beer that has an orange flavor to it, which was OK, and then Nan's sailor husband Brian came home after a long time at sea. They drank beer and cuddled, I sauteed beets and drank chai, and we all bitched about the politics of the Lady, told stories of old crazy crew, and generally had a good time. Nanette's brother Cliff called from the hospital to announce the birth of her new nephew. And now I must To Bed! Midnight and I have to work tomorrow! At least I'm in Ballard tonight, and it's one bus to work, rather than a 4am wakeup for an 8am workday start!
We went to the Ballard Fred Meyer which was way too crowded, then came home and watched Before Sunset, which is going on my "favorites" list. What a nice concept - Before Sunrise came out when the characters and I were in our early 20's, believing in romance and hope and idyllic love. Although a little disheartening, here we all are in our 30's, with reality having set in years ago, trying to figure out where the balance is. Trying to not get hurt or make silly decisions, but not comfortable with abandoning hope, magic and mystery either. Nanette and I were worried that Ethan Hawke was going to use this movie as an opportunity to get philosophically pretentious and proselytize, but instead the movie was fast-moving, the script good, the actors had great chemistry, and I felt like I could very much relate to Julie Delpy's character.
After the movie we tried some beer that has an orange flavor to it, which was OK, and then Nan's sailor husband Brian came home after a long time at sea. They drank beer and cuddled, I sauteed beets and drank chai, and we all bitched about the politics of the Lady, told stories of old crazy crew, and generally had a good time. Nanette's brother Cliff called from the hospital to announce the birth of her new nephew. And now I must To Bed! Midnight and I have to work tomorrow! At least I'm in Ballard tonight, and it's one bus to work, rather than a 4am wakeup for an 8am workday start!
Back In The Day
In 1979, my dad and I spent a lot of time near the mountain town Winthrop, Washington. A few years earlier than that, when he was in his early 20's, he got contracted to work on a pool and poolhouse for a mountain community/property development organization in the area. While there, he discovered a great piece of property for a few thousand dollars and talked his buddy into buying it with him.
The area was very rural. Power was a chore to get, and running water came from a stream and pumphouse near the lot. The lot itself had an outstanding view of the Methow Valley, with the river winding through, and distant snowy peaks. The mountain was covered with lots from 1 to 10 acres in size, all the way down to the Methow River. In the middle of the lot development there was a large field on a bluff, and this is where the pool and hot tub were. Down by the river was a communal camping area with a sod house nearby for toilets, showers and laundry. In the 70's my dad and his friends would gather their wives, kids and girlfriends and set up a bunch of tents next to the river. We'd have campfires, lots of dogs running around and the kids all playing together - tracking deer and periwinkles. We'd fall asleep in the tent to the sounds of our parents outside listening to CCR, drinking Rainier beer, telling jokes and laughing.
That was years after my dad had divorced my mom in '74. In 1981 when he married his 2nd wife, they bought out his friend for sole ownership of the view lot, and put a dinky trailer on it while Dad began clearing the area where the cabin was going to go. We still came over often. Every Memorial Day, after Highway 20 reopened for the summer season, we attended the Annual Meeting & Picnic. My dad was one of the board members who decided how the annual dues would be spent and what improvements were needed on the mountain. He also spent a lot of his free time working on those pumphouses.
During the picnic we all went horseback riding for free. The Rocking Horse Ranch across the river regulary used our paths for their paid tours, so in return they took us on rides every Memorial Day. I have some great memories from that. The ranch was staffed by a family of women and half a dozen "troubled"girls whom they'd taken in. The girls didn't seem that troubled to me. They did like to ride, and sometimes get into trouble. They let me and this other kid, Thor, ride the horses back to the ranch with them after the picnic. We rode down rocky, shale faces Man From Snowy River-style, we crossed the river and the deaf girl couldn't get her horse to move. We were all yelling instructions at her but of course that did no good. Then we raced the horses through a forest of trails with sharp turns, low hanging branches and big roots jutting out of the path. That was a serious adrenaline rush. Back at the ranch, we tended to the horses then went to play on the mountain of hay bales in the barn. It was all totally great until one girl fell into a wasps' nest and ended up with 30+ stings. I think she went into shock. They took her in and slathered her with cream and our parents came to pick us up a little later.
Sometimes I would bring over friends from Seattle to hang out with me. Kelly Loken and I set our sleeping bags up in the back of my dad's '73 Ford pickup and counted shooting stars for hours. Donna Richardson and I tried to cross the Methow River in the middle of winter. We were 12, I think, and she was tiny, probably weighing around 80 pounds. I was used to crossing the river but she almost got swept away. Completely numb from the waste down, I had to grab her and bring her across. She lost her shoe and I got into a world of trouble for taking her across (rightfully so). We were following cougar tracks in the snow. One time Kelly and I were walking to the pool and didn't want to walk around the field, so we carried one of those bells that hotels put on their counters and rang it while running across - to scare away the rattlesnakes (which we later learned were deaf).
The first time I ever saw Saturn was through a telescope set up at the pool after an annual meeting. The pool used to have a fence around it but people wanted to see the view, so they built a plexiglass wall. Ever since then, birds and deer run into it.
3 miles west of us there was the only gas station before crossing the mountain pass. It was one pump and a 300 square foot building with random dry/canned goods and a tiny top loading freezer with ice cream. The town of Mazama was comprised of this, the Mazama Country Store (this is what it looks like now - much fancier) and the volunteer fire department, the community building (1 room) and the Mazama Country Inn. The community building had big pancake breakfasts every now and then, and everyone in town knew each other. They'd get together and talk about bear trouble, forest fire worries, hiking, etc. Sometimes in the bigger town 17 miles east they will have festivals where they close the only street off for dances and parades.
It's beautiful country out there. And hidden away, kind of. Highway 20 is only 30 years old, and I know from first hand experience that it's perfect for motorcycles. (scroll down for pic on that link). There's even a killer roadside restaurant with a giant lawn full of semi-domesticated bunnies. They make homemade berry shakes and sourdough burgers. I've coasted down smooth mountain roads at night, with my headlights off, surrounded by only stars. I've stood under roadside waterfalls and looked out over perfect turquoise lakes. When I get to the other side of the pass, I take a deep breath and let the city leave my mind and body. Going over there has always been good for my soul, and helps give perspective to things that seem important in the city.
The area was very rural. Power was a chore to get, and running water came from a stream and pumphouse near the lot. The lot itself had an outstanding view of the Methow Valley, with the river winding through, and distant snowy peaks. The mountain was covered with lots from 1 to 10 acres in size, all the way down to the Methow River. In the middle of the lot development there was a large field on a bluff, and this is where the pool and hot tub were. Down by the river was a communal camping area with a sod house nearby for toilets, showers and laundry. In the 70's my dad and his friends would gather their wives, kids and girlfriends and set up a bunch of tents next to the river. We'd have campfires, lots of dogs running around and the kids all playing together - tracking deer and periwinkles. We'd fall asleep in the tent to the sounds of our parents outside listening to CCR, drinking Rainier beer, telling jokes and laughing.
That was years after my dad had divorced my mom in '74. In 1981 when he married his 2nd wife, they bought out his friend for sole ownership of the view lot, and put a dinky trailer on it while Dad began clearing the area where the cabin was going to go. We still came over often. Every Memorial Day, after Highway 20 reopened for the summer season, we attended the Annual Meeting & Picnic. My dad was one of the board members who decided how the annual dues would be spent and what improvements were needed on the mountain. He also spent a lot of his free time working on those pumphouses.
During the picnic we all went horseback riding for free. The Rocking Horse Ranch across the river regulary used our paths for their paid tours, so in return they took us on rides every Memorial Day. I have some great memories from that. The ranch was staffed by a family of women and half a dozen "troubled"girls whom they'd taken in. The girls didn't seem that troubled to me. They did like to ride, and sometimes get into trouble. They let me and this other kid, Thor, ride the horses back to the ranch with them after the picnic. We rode down rocky, shale faces Man From Snowy River-style, we crossed the river and the deaf girl couldn't get her horse to move. We were all yelling instructions at her but of course that did no good. Then we raced the horses through a forest of trails with sharp turns, low hanging branches and big roots jutting out of the path. That was a serious adrenaline rush. Back at the ranch, we tended to the horses then went to play on the mountain of hay bales in the barn. It was all totally great until one girl fell into a wasps' nest and ended up with 30+ stings. I think she went into shock. They took her in and slathered her with cream and our parents came to pick us up a little later.
Sometimes I would bring over friends from Seattle to hang out with me. Kelly Loken and I set our sleeping bags up in the back of my dad's '73 Ford pickup and counted shooting stars for hours. Donna Richardson and I tried to cross the Methow River in the middle of winter. We were 12, I think, and she was tiny, probably weighing around 80 pounds. I was used to crossing the river but she almost got swept away. Completely numb from the waste down, I had to grab her and bring her across. She lost her shoe and I got into a world of trouble for taking her across (rightfully so). We were following cougar tracks in the snow. One time Kelly and I were walking to the pool and didn't want to walk around the field, so we carried one of those bells that hotels put on their counters and rang it while running across - to scare away the rattlesnakes (which we later learned were deaf).
The first time I ever saw Saturn was through a telescope set up at the pool after an annual meeting. The pool used to have a fence around it but people wanted to see the view, so they built a plexiglass wall. Ever since then, birds and deer run into it.
3 miles west of us there was the only gas station before crossing the mountain pass. It was one pump and a 300 square foot building with random dry/canned goods and a tiny top loading freezer with ice cream. The town of Mazama was comprised of this, the Mazama Country Store (this is what it looks like now - much fancier) and the volunteer fire department, the community building (1 room) and the Mazama Country Inn. The community building had big pancake breakfasts every now and then, and everyone in town knew each other. They'd get together and talk about bear trouble, forest fire worries, hiking, etc. Sometimes in the bigger town 17 miles east they will have festivals where they close the only street off for dances and parades.
It's beautiful country out there. And hidden away, kind of. Highway 20 is only 30 years old, and I know from first hand experience that it's perfect for motorcycles. (scroll down for pic on that link). There's even a killer roadside restaurant with a giant lawn full of semi-domesticated bunnies. They make homemade berry shakes and sourdough burgers. I've coasted down smooth mountain roads at night, with my headlights off, surrounded by only stars. I've stood under roadside waterfalls and looked out over perfect turquoise lakes. When I get to the other side of the pass, I take a deep breath and let the city leave my mind and body. Going over there has always been good for my soul, and helps give perspective to things that seem important in the city.
Our Favorite Young Anarchists
Nate & Sara just arrived in Spain! They are going to the organic farm tomorrow.
Strange - Piracy
Last year's fun cook off the Hawaiian Chieftain, Shawn Strange, is leaving for her new digs aboard Soren Larsen! She'll joining them in New Zealand next week and will be on board for a whole YEAR! Yippee! Shawn will also be posting on their website:
http://www.sorenlarsen.co.nz/
Oh hey and I also found Sparkle's (Ozzie's) website for his "Land". It's
The Institute for Applied Piracy
http://www.sorenlarsen.co.nz/
Oh hey and I also found Sparkle's (Ozzie's) website for his "Land". It's
The Institute for Applied Piracy
Lynx! Meow!
Photos of this summer aboard brig Lady Washington (the Interceptor from the movie Pirates of the Caribbean) are at akimbophoto.blogspot.com AND at ladywashington.org
My brainstorming and hopeful plans of starting an intentional community in Seattle are at intentional-community.blogspot.com
My good friend Landon is a philosophy major. His blog encourages discussion at artofwisdom.blogspot.com
Do YOU have a blog that I would like? Please email me!
kim@ladywashington.org
My brainstorming and hopeful plans of starting an intentional community in Seattle are at intentional-community.blogspot.com
My good friend Landon is a philosophy major. His blog encourages discussion at artofwisdom.blogspot.com
Do YOU have a blog that I would like? Please email me!
kim@ladywashington.org
Kahuna Lane, Chapter 1, Moving In
names have been changed
At the start of 2001 I moved into a large house near the University of Hawaii on the island of Oahu. The house was divided into 4 separate sections. The first floor of the northern half was a garage turned apartment with storage and laundry on the backside. The upstairs, as well as both floors on the southern half, were large 5-bedroom apartments with 2 bathrooms, a kitchen and living room. I lived in the southern half in a small bedroom downstairs.
When I first looked at the house and was waiting for the landlady, Tammy, to arrive, this young woman with long brown hair walked up the street, stood underneath the neighbors' fruit tree, cursed at it, then lit a cigarette and came over to me.
"Fucking people! Wasting perfectly good fruit. They never eat that, y'know. It's pathetic." and then she flicked her cigarette onto the ground and went in the house.
Tammy made her entrance shortly afterwards - an expensively dressed older Chinese woman in a Mercedes. She eagerly showed me around and I didn't hesitate to accept her terms. $350 for a small room, with only women living in the house (except for the remodeled garage), and besides the trails of mini-ants and a lone centipede or cockroach now and then, the house was spacious, clean and bright. Those bugs were piddly compared to what I'd become accustomed to in the Hawaiian countryside. Out there there were cane spiders bigger than a child's hand, termites galore and clouds of mosquitoes. A few harmless ants and roaches were completely tolerable compared to all that. Where I grew up there were hardly any bugs at all. The first time a cane spider chased me down I nearly pissed my pants. It was running into the wind on only it's back legs. The front legs and body looked like one of those flying face suckers from Alien. But after 2 years of living in rural Hawaii I could actually sit on the grass and not mind if bugs were crawling on my legs. The only bugs that have made me freak out since are the gnats on Sandy Cay in the British Virgin Islands. Imagine getting 100 mild bee-stings all at once, by bugs that you can't even see. But enough about bugs.
My new roommates on the first floor were Kirzah (the one with the cig, pronounced KEER-zuh), a 25-year-old college student on the 7-year-plan. Steffany, a beautiful blond artist, age 23. And Sabrine, an intelligent and kick-ass 26-year-old black girl from Salem, Massachusetts who was majoring in Fashion Anthropology (tying her studies from the fashion institute in NY to her current anthropological interests. Upstairs there were all quiet Asian girls, except for Caroline, who was Asian-American, I think 2nd generation and grew up on Oahu. Caroline was finishing up her masters and didn't stay long. All the girls in the house were students at UH, and we never socialized much with the girls in the northern half of the upstairs, as their apartment was not accessible from our front door, but they were students too.
People with strong personalities are always attractive to me. I don't mean attractive like sexually. I mean their charisma attracts me, makes me want to observe their affect on others and myself, and be along for the ride (Ack! That just brought to mind common criticisms of Kerouac!). Kirzah seemed bitchy and strong-willed at the time, like she didn't care what anyone thought of her. When that quality is genuine, it's fascinating. That trait is either rare, or the majority of people really are very bland and aren't itching to bust out of some "shell" at all. She was a white girl born and raised on Maui so she had plenty friends all over the place. Since she hadn't bothered to figure out what classes she needed at the community college to transfer to UH, she had taken all of them. Like many rural Hawaiian children, she grew up with a miniature marijuana plantation in her backyard, and later her dad ended up in prison for shipping pot and other drugs. She got fired from her job as a waitress at the Outrigger on Waikiki, and it was rumored that she was living off a huge sum of money stashed right before her father's arrest. Kirzah could have been pretty, but she looked haggard for her age, with her alcoholism, the drugs and cigarettes and probable depression. After living there awhile we would have dinner parties or friendly get-togethers and she would get out of control drunk, walk around naked and hit on me and my friends, loudly play Linkin Parks' "Crawling in my skin" on repeat until 4am or be driving home drunk and crash her moped. But she was an excellent writer. Aren't the best writers and artists pretty messed up? Sabrine and Steffany tried to help her out when she asked. They really cared about her. Both I, and a later addition, P-Funk, were there for her too, but she was on a downward spiral and I got to thinking that she was going to have to hit rock bottom before getting better.
Kirzah allowed us time on her computer for internet use in return for helping out with her online bill, but she hated having people in her room and would freak out over things like the chair not being put back in it's original position by the desk. We had an issue with cable TV, too, because she had lived there longest, and had cable in her room. My friend Eric donated to us an old TV, and since the cable was accessible in the living room, we plugged it in. We didn't watch it much, and nobody would have cared enough to actually buy a TV or cable if it wasn't already there. Kirzah wanted compensation. We paid a little but didn't keep up on it, and didn't care if it got turned off anyway. This infuriated her. I still don't know how that should have been worked out. I think we got rid of the TV. At some point I told Kirzah that she was really self-destructive and rude, and I don't know if that was healthy or not. It's good to be honest with people who get so offensive, but overall she was this messed up but intelligent young woman, going through her own ups and downs. She was smart enough to eventually learn from her mistakes, even if it meant repeating them over and over again until she did. Once we had a big Thanksgiving event at another friends' apartment, and Kirzah ate some of the tiramisu that Sabrina had spent so long preparing. We were leaving for the event and Sabrine found the violated dish in the fridge and screamed. She began yelling at Kirzah and something broke, either from the top of the fridge after slamming the door, I don't remember well, but we left anyway and the neighbors had called the cops. It was the stodgy fruit-wasting neighbors. They were never keen on living next door to a house with 17 twentysomethings and all their guests.
Shortly after that I moved out. I couldn't stand her any longer. I remained friends with several other roommates, and actually moved in with some girls who had lived in the Kahuna house while I was there. They say her life got better and she moved back to Maui.
Some of the other friends I met at the Kahuna house, and the adventures we shared around Waikiki were even more worth writing about. I'll write about those later on...
At the start of 2001 I moved into a large house near the University of Hawaii on the island of Oahu. The house was divided into 4 separate sections. The first floor of the northern half was a garage turned apartment with storage and laundry on the backside. The upstairs, as well as both floors on the southern half, were large 5-bedroom apartments with 2 bathrooms, a kitchen and living room. I lived in the southern half in a small bedroom downstairs.
When I first looked at the house and was waiting for the landlady, Tammy, to arrive, this young woman with long brown hair walked up the street, stood underneath the neighbors' fruit tree, cursed at it, then lit a cigarette and came over to me.
"Fucking people! Wasting perfectly good fruit. They never eat that, y'know. It's pathetic." and then she flicked her cigarette onto the ground and went in the house.
Tammy made her entrance shortly afterwards - an expensively dressed older Chinese woman in a Mercedes. She eagerly showed me around and I didn't hesitate to accept her terms. $350 for a small room, with only women living in the house (except for the remodeled garage), and besides the trails of mini-ants and a lone centipede or cockroach now and then, the house was spacious, clean and bright. Those bugs were piddly compared to what I'd become accustomed to in the Hawaiian countryside. Out there there were cane spiders bigger than a child's hand, termites galore and clouds of mosquitoes. A few harmless ants and roaches were completely tolerable compared to all that. Where I grew up there were hardly any bugs at all. The first time a cane spider chased me down I nearly pissed my pants. It was running into the wind on only it's back legs. The front legs and body looked like one of those flying face suckers from Alien. But after 2 years of living in rural Hawaii I could actually sit on the grass and not mind if bugs were crawling on my legs. The only bugs that have made me freak out since are the gnats on Sandy Cay in the British Virgin Islands. Imagine getting 100 mild bee-stings all at once, by bugs that you can't even see. But enough about bugs.
My new roommates on the first floor were Kirzah (the one with the cig, pronounced KEER-zuh), a 25-year-old college student on the 7-year-plan. Steffany, a beautiful blond artist, age 23. And Sabrine, an intelligent and kick-ass 26-year-old black girl from Salem, Massachusetts who was majoring in Fashion Anthropology (tying her studies from the fashion institute in NY to her current anthropological interests. Upstairs there were all quiet Asian girls, except for Caroline, who was Asian-American, I think 2nd generation and grew up on Oahu. Caroline was finishing up her masters and didn't stay long. All the girls in the house were students at UH, and we never socialized much with the girls in the northern half of the upstairs, as their apartment was not accessible from our front door, but they were students too.
People with strong personalities are always attractive to me. I don't mean attractive like sexually. I mean their charisma attracts me, makes me want to observe their affect on others and myself, and be along for the ride (Ack! That just brought to mind common criticisms of Kerouac!). Kirzah seemed bitchy and strong-willed at the time, like she didn't care what anyone thought of her. When that quality is genuine, it's fascinating. That trait is either rare, or the majority of people really are very bland and aren't itching to bust out of some "shell" at all. She was a white girl born and raised on Maui so she had plenty friends all over the place. Since she hadn't bothered to figure out what classes she needed at the community college to transfer to UH, she had taken all of them. Like many rural Hawaiian children, she grew up with a miniature marijuana plantation in her backyard, and later her dad ended up in prison for shipping pot and other drugs. She got fired from her job as a waitress at the Outrigger on Waikiki, and it was rumored that she was living off a huge sum of money stashed right before her father's arrest. Kirzah could have been pretty, but she looked haggard for her age, with her alcoholism, the drugs and cigarettes and probable depression. After living there awhile we would have dinner parties or friendly get-togethers and she would get out of control drunk, walk around naked and hit on me and my friends, loudly play Linkin Parks' "Crawling in my skin" on repeat until 4am or be driving home drunk and crash her moped. But she was an excellent writer. Aren't the best writers and artists pretty messed up? Sabrine and Steffany tried to help her out when she asked. They really cared about her. Both I, and a later addition, P-Funk, were there for her too, but she was on a downward spiral and I got to thinking that she was going to have to hit rock bottom before getting better.
Kirzah allowed us time on her computer for internet use in return for helping out with her online bill, but she hated having people in her room and would freak out over things like the chair not being put back in it's original position by the desk. We had an issue with cable TV, too, because she had lived there longest, and had cable in her room. My friend Eric donated to us an old TV, and since the cable was accessible in the living room, we plugged it in. We didn't watch it much, and nobody would have cared enough to actually buy a TV or cable if it wasn't already there. Kirzah wanted compensation. We paid a little but didn't keep up on it, and didn't care if it got turned off anyway. This infuriated her. I still don't know how that should have been worked out. I think we got rid of the TV. At some point I told Kirzah that she was really self-destructive and rude, and I don't know if that was healthy or not. It's good to be honest with people who get so offensive, but overall she was this messed up but intelligent young woman, going through her own ups and downs. She was smart enough to eventually learn from her mistakes, even if it meant repeating them over and over again until she did. Once we had a big Thanksgiving event at another friends' apartment, and Kirzah ate some of the tiramisu that Sabrina had spent so long preparing. We were leaving for the event and Sabrine found the violated dish in the fridge and screamed. She began yelling at Kirzah and something broke, either from the top of the fridge after slamming the door, I don't remember well, but we left anyway and the neighbors had called the cops. It was the stodgy fruit-wasting neighbors. They were never keen on living next door to a house with 17 twentysomethings and all their guests.
Shortly after that I moved out. I couldn't stand her any longer. I remained friends with several other roommates, and actually moved in with some girls who had lived in the Kahuna house while I was there. They say her life got better and she moved back to Maui.
Some of the other friends I met at the Kahuna house, and the adventures we shared around Waikiki were even more worth writing about. I'll write about those later on...
Neat-O
This morning after my ferry docked and I was waiting for my bus, I sat down and picked up a discarded Seattle Times sports section off the bench. On the front page was a picture of a girl I attended middle school and high school with. Her name is Hilaree Nelson, and the article called her the "matriarch of mountaineering". She was an athletic and motivated girl in high school, and it appears that she's even moreso now. She's been in 3 Warren Miller films, including the new one just out called "Impact". Check Hilaree out at
http://www.warrenmiller.com/wmiller/athletes/impact/honeill.html
http://www.thenorthface.com/na/athletes/athletes-HO.html
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/sports/2002086721_xtreme10.html
http://www.warrenmiller.com/wmiller/athletes/impact/honeill.html
http://www.thenorthface.com/na/athletes/athletes-HO.html
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/sports/2002086721_xtreme10.html
That Really Made My Day
The most enlightening things ever said directly to me:
"You can be very bossy." - my 4th grade teacher, 1982
"You can be anything you want, and you don't even have to study in school like I do, and you don't even seem to care." - my best friend at age 13 describing one of the reasons she didn't want to be friends with me anymore, 1986
"I never hit you!" - said to me in an argument with a parent when I was 19, 1992 (my instant understanding of selective memory)
The nicest things ever done for me:
18-year-old R. Scott made a homemade sundae with a cherry on top for me to eat in bed, 1991.
Nanette invited me to live with her in Hawaii and she and her husband paid the rent for 6 months in 2000.
Polly, Nanette, Landon, Mason, Bob, Alan K., John-Boy, Mikey Pru and Mikey Two showing they cared at times when I was really depressed and needed some love.
My dad has saved my ass twice. When I was 20 years old and stuck in Missoula, MT during the dead of winter without a job, he bought me a bus ticket home and got me a job at the UW. Exactly 10 years later he did the same thing, except it was a plane ticket from Philly and a different job at the UW. These are the only two times in my adulthood that I have asked for help and really depended on someone else to get me out of a fix.
The nicest things ever said to me:
"Because you're Hottie Kim, and the way you are on deck... you take charge, kick ass and don't take shit from anybody." - John-Boy Morrisson in Marina del Rey, we were going to stop seeing each other and he was responding to me asking him why he liked me so much, '03
"Are you a model? You look like a model." - girl cashiering at 7-11 in the tiny town of Cabot, Arkansas, where I walked in crying in 1994
"This is fucking stupid. Wanna run away?" - Crazy Haida Bob via email, 2 days ago
"There should be a poem written about you!" - Emmet van Driesche at sea aboard the Lady, '04
"You are one of the toughest women I've ever met!" - Alan Kerstetter after trying to furl the t'gallant with me in a wild wind. I was crying because I couldn't finish it and John-Boy had to come help us.
and my all time favorite...
"I'm not sure we would've ever had enough time really Kim. Cause me and you hanging out doesn't seem like it was ever supposed to be a special occasion. It feels more like an old pair of jeans or the house you grew up in." - one of my best friends, Mikey Pru, via email after leaving me in Hawaii in '02
"You can be very bossy." - my 4th grade teacher, 1982
"You can be anything you want, and you don't even have to study in school like I do, and you don't even seem to care." - my best friend at age 13 describing one of the reasons she didn't want to be friends with me anymore, 1986
"I never hit you!" - said to me in an argument with a parent when I was 19, 1992 (my instant understanding of selective memory)
The nicest things ever done for me:
18-year-old R. Scott made a homemade sundae with a cherry on top for me to eat in bed, 1991.
Nanette invited me to live with her in Hawaii and she and her husband paid the rent for 6 months in 2000.
Polly, Nanette, Landon, Mason, Bob, Alan K., John-Boy, Mikey Pru and Mikey Two showing they cared at times when I was really depressed and needed some love.
My dad has saved my ass twice. When I was 20 years old and stuck in Missoula, MT during the dead of winter without a job, he bought me a bus ticket home and got me a job at the UW. Exactly 10 years later he did the same thing, except it was a plane ticket from Philly and a different job at the UW. These are the only two times in my adulthood that I have asked for help and really depended on someone else to get me out of a fix.
The nicest things ever said to me:
"Because you're Hottie Kim, and the way you are on deck... you take charge, kick ass and don't take shit from anybody." - John-Boy Morrisson in Marina del Rey, we were going to stop seeing each other and he was responding to me asking him why he liked me so much, '03
"Are you a model? You look like a model." - girl cashiering at 7-11 in the tiny town of Cabot, Arkansas, where I walked in crying in 1994
"This is fucking stupid. Wanna run away?" - Crazy Haida Bob via email, 2 days ago
"There should be a poem written about you!" - Emmet van Driesche at sea aboard the Lady, '04
"You are one of the toughest women I've ever met!" - Alan Kerstetter after trying to furl the t'gallant with me in a wild wind. I was crying because I couldn't finish it and John-Boy had to come help us.
and my all time favorite...
"I'm not sure we would've ever had enough time really Kim. Cause me and you hanging out doesn't seem like it was ever supposed to be a special occasion. It feels more like an old pair of jeans or the house you grew up in." - one of my best friends, Mikey Pru, via email after leaving me in Hawaii in '02
I Have A Dream!
I come from a long line of hard-working, blue-collar Yankees. My father has always been a carpenter. My grandfather was a carpenter. Most of us spent our entire lives along the west coast, but my grandfather's father and a few generations before that were farmers in Kansas. My mother's immediate ancestors lived in the Indiana countryside. But before that, my family lived in Massachusetts. I don't know what their line of work was, but they helped start a little town called Plymouth after bailing out of England on a boat known as Mayflower. It's possible that the idea of hard work and fairness in the community has been a running theme in the history of my family.
At that party the other night, Nanette and another woman discussed a study they'd read about how the inclination towards spirituality is genetic. It's possible that a lot more than that is genetic when it comes to all of us being predisposed to particular beliefs and lifestyles. Have I already mentioned my theory about people from the west coast being more progressive? Of course we're always going to tout our own, but this one could hold water! Europeans desiring change and opportunity left that continent and headed west. East coast settlers desiring change and opportunity made their way west to the midwestern farmlands. The especially daring went even further west, to the wild west coast! They were real risk-takers when it came to settling the lower 48. I believe there is a little of that spirit in all the 2nd through 5th generation west coast people. Crazy Haida Bob if you are reading this I know that I'm failing to mention a certain community that was already here (notorious for it's charming and handsome warriors). In the tradition of my ancestors I must say that it wouldn't contribute to my agenda here.
Social behavior could be genetic. My parents and I differ socially, but the other day my dad told me how there's a guy at work who is racist and generally offensive. Most of the guys my dad works with are white and say nothing when this guy gets into politically incorrect mode, but my dad speaks up. He said it's got him so annoyed that he's ready to take it to the supervisors. Some people run to their supervisors for much less, but this is a really cush state job where you can be sure that the guy isn't going to get punished anyway, and definitely not fired, so you really have to be on your bandwagon to want to stir things up. We may be different in our social preferences, but apparently we have similar feelings and are willing to take the same kind of action when it comes to members our "community" knowingly working against that community.
Back when I was very young my dad donated lots of time to an intentional community that started in eastern Washington in the '70's. Everyone bought small parcels of property there, had annual meetings, with families and children, and decided how the place was going to be run and what standards to set. Back then, the mountain was full of hardworking outdoorsy families like ours. Today the property has skyrocketed in value, and yuppies have vacation homes there, and locally it's known as "Overachievers Hill". My dad considers selling the mountain house that he has built over the course of 25 years and getting something smaller with more land and less view, because the community leaders there now won't even let he and his wife have chickens.
I have always wanted a sense of community. Maybe it has something to do with being an only child until I was 15, and never having a tight permanent group of friends or neighbors. My family went to visit the "Street of Dreams" every year. These are streets where different architects show off the cream of their crop as far as family homes. All of them were 2-3 stories high, and at least 3,000 square feet. At the entrance they hand everyone a booklet that describes the homes and includes detailed floorplans. After touring the homes I would take my booklet and plan out how I would appoint each room if that house were mine. There was always a room just for hamsters and rabbits and guinea pigs, and there were rooms for all my friends and all of the children I was going to adopt. Even at the house where I grew up I used to try and figure out how many bunk beds could fit into the basement mother-in-law apartment so I could either run it like a hostel or an orphanage.
I've had 3 main dreams in my life. The first is to be part of what is now called an "intentional community", the second is to own a small travel business where I would escort people on eco-tours, and the last is to live on my own sailboat. The only other dreams I've had besides that have been to be a travel writer or to start my own 'zine. Those are questionable, though, but the more I blog, the better I understand what I'm good at when it comes to writing. Anyway, I've just applied to a job that I want very, VERY much. It would involve being a landlubber at least 90% of the next 2 years. So if I'm going to be shore based, I'm going to work on that first dream and see what kind of response I get from people. For a start I'm going to map out my plans on a separate blog. I'm going to delete "the wino and I know" because it's not getting any use. Feel free to email me with ideas on anything I write on the new blog.
Dreams and goals are great. They keep you motivated!
At that party the other night, Nanette and another woman discussed a study they'd read about how the inclination towards spirituality is genetic. It's possible that a lot more than that is genetic when it comes to all of us being predisposed to particular beliefs and lifestyles. Have I already mentioned my theory about people from the west coast being more progressive? Of course we're always going to tout our own, but this one could hold water! Europeans desiring change and opportunity left that continent and headed west. East coast settlers desiring change and opportunity made their way west to the midwestern farmlands. The especially daring went even further west, to the wild west coast! They were real risk-takers when it came to settling the lower 48. I believe there is a little of that spirit in all the 2nd through 5th generation west coast people. Crazy Haida Bob if you are reading this I know that I'm failing to mention a certain community that was already here (notorious for it's charming and handsome warriors). In the tradition of my ancestors I must say that it wouldn't contribute to my agenda here.
Social behavior could be genetic. My parents and I differ socially, but the other day my dad told me how there's a guy at work who is racist and generally offensive. Most of the guys my dad works with are white and say nothing when this guy gets into politically incorrect mode, but my dad speaks up. He said it's got him so annoyed that he's ready to take it to the supervisors. Some people run to their supervisors for much less, but this is a really cush state job where you can be sure that the guy isn't going to get punished anyway, and definitely not fired, so you really have to be on your bandwagon to want to stir things up. We may be different in our social preferences, but apparently we have similar feelings and are willing to take the same kind of action when it comes to members our "community" knowingly working against that community.
Back when I was very young my dad donated lots of time to an intentional community that started in eastern Washington in the '70's. Everyone bought small parcels of property there, had annual meetings, with families and children, and decided how the place was going to be run and what standards to set. Back then, the mountain was full of hardworking outdoorsy families like ours. Today the property has skyrocketed in value, and yuppies have vacation homes there, and locally it's known as "Overachievers Hill". My dad considers selling the mountain house that he has built over the course of 25 years and getting something smaller with more land and less view, because the community leaders there now won't even let he and his wife have chickens.
I have always wanted a sense of community. Maybe it has something to do with being an only child until I was 15, and never having a tight permanent group of friends or neighbors. My family went to visit the "Street of Dreams" every year. These are streets where different architects show off the cream of their crop as far as family homes. All of them were 2-3 stories high, and at least 3,000 square feet. At the entrance they hand everyone a booklet that describes the homes and includes detailed floorplans. After touring the homes I would take my booklet and plan out how I would appoint each room if that house were mine. There was always a room just for hamsters and rabbits and guinea pigs, and there were rooms for all my friends and all of the children I was going to adopt. Even at the house where I grew up I used to try and figure out how many bunk beds could fit into the basement mother-in-law apartment so I could either run it like a hostel or an orphanage.
I've had 3 main dreams in my life. The first is to be part of what is now called an "intentional community", the second is to own a small travel business where I would escort people on eco-tours, and the last is to live on my own sailboat. The only other dreams I've had besides that have been to be a travel writer or to start my own 'zine. Those are questionable, though, but the more I blog, the better I understand what I'm good at when it comes to writing. Anyway, I've just applied to a job that I want very, VERY much. It would involve being a landlubber at least 90% of the next 2 years. So if I'm going to be shore based, I'm going to work on that first dream and see what kind of response I get from people. For a start I'm going to map out my plans on a separate blog. I'm going to delete "the wino and I know" because it's not getting any use. Feel free to email me with ideas on anything I write on the new blog.
Dreams and goals are great. They keep you motivated!
cure me!
I went to a party tonight with a bunch of people I'd never met. They were all in their 30's, with Master's degrees and husbands, some with toddlers. All with money. It was interesting. I just observed, mostly. I interjected in some conversations about politics and they started thinking that I knew what I was talking about, but then this girl asked me to confirm the unemployment rate in Washington and I had no clue. This one woman seemed really insecure. Everyone else just seemed kind of boring compared to the people I call friends. But that's judgemental. One woman had a red Mount Gay Rum hat so we talked for a long time about sailing, and her job, and what it's like to work for people who only communicate via email. These two gay guys were really cool. They run a modeling agency in Germany. In fact, they were the most interesting and entertaining people there. But for once I'd like someone at a lame party to come up to me and say "This is fucking stupid. Wanna run away?" And then just sneak out, drive somewhere, anywhere, or walk, or run down the street to a park.
Oh so last night I wrote a long post that this computer conveniently ERASED. The only thing I want to retype is the words to a song I've been singing for days in my head. The lyrics are by Conor Oberst.
so i came upon a doctor
who appeared in quite poor health
i said there's nothing i can do for you that you can't do for yourself
he said oh yes you can just hold my hand
i think that that would help
so i sat with him a while
and i asked him how he felt
he said
i think
i'm cured
in fact
i'm sure
thank you
stranger
for your therapeutic smile
Oh so last night I wrote a long post that this computer conveniently ERASED. The only thing I want to retype is the words to a song I've been singing for days in my head. The lyrics are by Conor Oberst.
so i came upon a doctor
who appeared in quite poor health
i said there's nothing i can do for you that you can't do for yourself
he said oh yes you can just hold my hand
i think that that would help
so i sat with him a while
and i asked him how he felt
he said
i think
i'm cured
in fact
i'm sure
thank you
stranger
for your therapeutic smile
The consensus around here is that all those red states have a majority of people who are voting based on religion and fear of terrorists. A guy in my office said to a coworker: "...all those people who were volunteering, all the people who were finally convinced that their vote mattered - what are they going to think now? And the worst part is that the religious right is going to be even more vehement in their belief that God really is on Dubya's side, and that engaging in this religious war is justified."
We have also come to the conclusion that it was silly to not even consider that Bush could be reelected, but that we did because we are surrounded by Democrats, and everyone believed that common sense would prevail. People are stunned. I am stunned! But I too only travel in areas filled with Dems; Austin, Seattle, and the rest of the West Coast. My friends are from Portland, Canada, California. I've met only two Bush supporters in the last year, and one of them was a Dominican and not even eligible to vote. The other was a friend's relative who was a wealthy, racist, white 60-year-old man, staunch in his beliefs and ready to preach to his shamefully liberal family.
In the last week, interviewers have asked outspoken celebrities if they think that their campaigning helps. Nobody knew whether Christopher Reeve or Ben Affleck had the power to sway anyone. I think we know now. Not to say that people should take advice from celebrities, but I'd secretly hoped that the more uneducated voters might be (positively) affected by them. Turns out churches were their secret networking weapon. Here in the least religious area of the country, we probably didn't even consider how effective that could be.
Oh yeah! And Bush will get to choose a few more Supreme Court justices this time around. And they'll be around a hell of a lot longer than he will be in office.
We have also come to the conclusion that it was silly to not even consider that Bush could be reelected, but that we did because we are surrounded by Democrats, and everyone believed that common sense would prevail. People are stunned. I am stunned! But I too only travel in areas filled with Dems; Austin, Seattle, and the rest of the West Coast. My friends are from Portland, Canada, California. I've met only two Bush supporters in the last year, and one of them was a Dominican and not even eligible to vote. The other was a friend's relative who was a wealthy, racist, white 60-year-old man, staunch in his beliefs and ready to preach to his shamefully liberal family.
In the last week, interviewers have asked outspoken celebrities if they think that their campaigning helps. Nobody knew whether Christopher Reeve or Ben Affleck had the power to sway anyone. I think we know now. Not to say that people should take advice from celebrities, but I'd secretly hoped that the more uneducated voters might be (positively) affected by them. Turns out churches were their secret networking weapon. Here in the least religious area of the country, we probably didn't even consider how effective that could be.
Oh yeah! And Bush will get to choose a few more Supreme Court justices this time around. And they'll be around a hell of a lot longer than he will be in office.
Viva la West Coast
Today was a great day, but with these election results trickling in, tonight has gotten progressively worse.
I knew that Kerry would take the West Coast. I thought that he'd take a lot more. It's all really depressing and unbelieveable. Is it time to move to Canada? No, but this is definitely motivation to sail away! This is too wierd. I guess all these people base their votes on religion and fear of terrorism?
I knew that Kerry would take the West Coast. I thought that he'd take a lot more. It's all really depressing and unbelieveable. Is it time to move to Canada? No, but this is definitely motivation to sail away! This is too wierd. I guess all these people base their votes on religion and fear of terrorism?
