Typically I hate writing about what is going on in my life in any sort of “this happened then this… followed by this” fashion. On the whole, my life isn’t that exciting (terrorizing the cats and Mack when I’m not at work). I tend to find it boring, in general, to read a play-by-play of people’s lives unless they wrestled alligators after saving a baby from a run-away train while riding a grizzly bear.

Now that? That would be awesome. It also gave you an amazing visual I am sure.

I’ve been really busy, however, so to make it as ‘gator wrestling as possible I give you the play by play of the last eight days in my life:

• Hayley came to town. Thursday she was so jet-lagged and I was so busy telecommuting we didn’t really do much. Mack and I introduced her to Southern fried chicken and sweet tea before we took her to the pier at the Beach to watch people fish. Yes, life in the South was portrayed to her as a thrill per minute.
• Jane Austen night, no boys allowed. I don’t know if it was really ‘no boys allowed’, per say, but Mack was staying away as though his life depended on it. Instead, he went and hung out with some friends while Hayley and I enjoyed pasta and she did my hair up in the ‘Jane Austen era hairdo’. See here:

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• Bucky feared for his life. When you take him outside of the apartment and to the vet (where everyone working at our vet is plotting to steal him) he is really affectionate and “oh look how charming I am”. In the apartment he beats up on the other cats and is generally a little shithead terror but looks so adorable while punching Blue in the head. For some reason, however, Bucky had the fear of all that is holy when Hayley showed up in the apartment. He spent the first 24 hours hidden under the sink and the rest of the time stepping out, seeing her, then running away as though the devil was at his heels. He also felt, that first morning after she had stayed the night, the need to bitch at us from 6:30AM – 8AM that there was an INTRUDER in the apartment and we MUST KNOW THIS.
• A battle that the Confederates Actually Won. I can joke since I grew up in Seattle thus do not feel the embittered feelings that the Civil War still brings up here in the South. On Saturday we drove out to Olustee battle site since Hayley has a thing with the Civil War that dates back to junior high and her ‘Gone with the Wind’ phase. That battle sight was pretty non-descript with a trail that takes you around the battle site in the middle of the woods with signs that give you information. I think the highlight was talking about using bears in warfare and how awesome that would be (and afterwards spotting bear droppings). Oh yeah, and also being near a correctional facilities and hearing the alarm go off.

more at flickr set

• St. Augustine Lighthouse. We took Hayley to St. Augustine to experience the tourist joy that is the first coast. Since Mack and I hadn’t gone up into the St Augustine lighthouse before (due to arriving, once, when it was closing) we decided to pay to climb up the 216 steps. About the second flight of stairs I remembered I have a crippling fear of heights. I did make it to the top (where it was really windy) but trust me this: I plastered myself against the lighthouse as far away from the railing as my body could get.

• Hayley leaves, Emily arrives. Hayley’s flight was at 6:30AM, so that required Mack and I to wake at 4AM to drive her to the airport. This, of course, started the longest day known to man-kind. You can read about Emily’s travel adventures here. We ultimately had to drive down to Orlando to pick her up at 2AM (2 1/2 hour drive) and I napped/tried to sleep as best as I could since I had to work the next day. By the time Mack picked Emily up I was laying on the ground in the back of his Tahoe trying my best to sleep. This, of course, didn’t happen at all between 2AM – 5AM. When got back to Jacksonville about 7:12AM after I dozed on and off… and I was home just in time for work.
• Another space launch. I know, we’re addicted. WE CAN NOT HELP IT. Until you see a space launch you seriously can not judge our dirty, dirty addiction. This one was at 4:34AM thus the period of no sleep for me and AWE-INSPIRING PICTURE TAKING OPPORTUNITIES.

more at flickr set

• Me being sleepy ALL WEEK. Due to not really sleeping Monday night and having woken up at 4AM that day (and working all of Tuesday) my sleep pattern has pretty much been whack. Mack took the week off to hang out with his sister while here and I’ve hung out with them when I wasn’t working but seriously? I just need like 20 hours of sleep to catch up.
• Emily leaves, I chop off 10-inches of hair. They don’t relate but they happened on the same day, as it happened. For another post I will go into the last time I hacked off a bunch of hair with a friend (a brief saying I used when it happened “Jenny and I were learned the hard way the other night you shouldn’t play with scissors when bored. In other news: I have a new hair cut!”) but this one was for a good reason: donating it. I’ve grown it out for three years (after it having about an inch and a half length… yes. Bored and stupid were Jenny and I) and think it was about time. I lost 10-inches of hair and since Saturday I’ve felt light-headed from the loss of mass on my head.

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In case you were wondering: that wrist tattoo did earn me a slap upside the head from my Mom when I got it at 21.

And that is my week in a nut-shell. My brother had a birthday last Monday I almost forgot about (big 36!) and I got my new camera lens… aaaaand forgot to buy an adaptor to make it fit my camera.

So internet: what’s been up with you?

Technorati Tags: daily life, photography, florida, traveling, guests, friends, family, house guests, civil war battles, locks of love, hair cuts, space launches, crazy animals, lack of sleep, busy

Me: Did you see her picture? She has a cute little pot-belly going on.

Mack: I don’t think she’d appreciate it being called ‘pot-belly’.

Me: Ugh, fine! She has a cute little tummy going on.

Technorati Tags: phrasing, girl friends, photographs, white lies, diets, diet, biased, women, quotations, conversations, quotes

Dear Fairy Godmother -

Hey, what’s up? It’s Anne. You know, that godchild that you have been ignoring for my twenty-four years of life. Frankly I’m getting sick of your abandonment and lack of action in my life. I think I’m developing some sort of abandonment issues in regards to you and when my parents pay for the first of five promised therapists in life don’t think your name won’t come up. Don’t give me the excuse of the fact I already have two godmothers so “can’t possibly have room for more.” Yes, while my godmothers are amazing people they lack one thing which you can provide: magic.

Before you fly off in a rage of glitter and sparkles, or whatever magical elements you use when mad, I don’t mean to exploit you but seriously? A little help in life would be awesome.

For one, Cinderella’s fairy godmother “pimped her ride” and got her a gown for the ball and magic carriage to ride off and meet her prince. True, I don’t need to find a prince but a wardrobe and nice ride would be amazing. I do adore my car but the payments? Those frankly suck and I think you could leverage your power to my advantage. Also, have you seen my appearance lately? It’s not that I can’t dress up it is more to the fact I am lazy. Yes, lazy. When I roll out of bed in the morning I’m typically happy with myself if I manage not to run into walls or spill cereal on myself, so last thing on my mind is make up, beautiful ball gowns, and whatever girly girls do.

Perhaps, fairy godmother, you forsake me since I have a boyfriend and thus lose the rights to have your help. What about those years of singledom? Where were you then? Sure, I have Mack now but, you know, you could have sped up the process. I appreciate the good thing that I have but you’re a slacker and I’m sick of making excuses for you.

“Anne, you’re such a selfish girl!” you could argue and aren’t, ultimately, we all selfishly wanting a fairy godmother? Someone to swoop in and fix all our problems magically and have a happily ever after? I think I doubt your existence, fairy godmother, since there are no such things as magic and fairy dust or whatever historical writers wrote about you. If there was with a swoosh of a magic wand those student loans would vanish and last I checked, they’re still there.

Fairy godmother, I’m over you and waiting. I think us females are sick of sitting around waiting for you to take action. I will rally a cry of “Ladies! Let us not sit around waiting for a Prince Charming to find us and all our problems to be fixed! Let us take charge and do it OURSELVES!” and let the masses stand strong, independent women who don’t believe in magic and believe in the power of here, now, and empowerment.

Go off fairy godmother and do whatever you were doing. Just know I’m over waiting and unlike helpless Cinderella have taken charge of my own life and make my own destiny.

Sincerely,
Anne

Technorati Tags: fairy godmothers, fairy tales, godmothers, magic, magical elements, sparkles, glitter, open letter, open letters, humor

I met my friend Hayley when we were a month away from being seventeen years old. I had come back from Japan the week before I started back in American high school and had been given a week by my parents to adjust to the seventeen-hour time difference. In going back to my high school, I would be in a very different situation then the one I had left. Before, I was apart of the International Baccalaureate program and, in taking a year off in foreign exchange, I was no longer in that educational course and would instead have to take AP classes and take seven classes in the remainder of the year to play catch up.

Oh boy, was I glad to be home.

Hayley had, the week before, re-entered American high school after studying in Sweden for six months through the same exchange program. My fellow classmates were interested in me when I reentered the high school scene, but the interest only went so far and I kind of drifted through my junior year without anyone really to talk to… except Hayley. We had one class together and would run into each other in the halls, both stuck doing online classes to make up the first part of American history class we had missed in our time away.

“So, what point in history are you at for the class?”

“Oh, I’m still about the Puritan times. What about you?”

“About the same.”

“We should probably stop slacking.”

“Yeah, probably.”

That was about the extent we’d talk between classes as we both rushed off in different directions. It was on the last day of school, junior year, when we both didn’t skip school (the way most of the student population did) that we really talked and got to know each other. Getting each others phone numbers, we promised to potentially hang out but nothing really came of that.

First day of senior year we found ourselves in a class together, Algebra II. In my junior year experience, I had decided I didn’t fit into the high school scene anymore and, instead, enrolled in the community college in “Running Start” to do high school part-time and college the other part. In my senior year, I used to not suck at math (I managed to forget all my math education in the month between high school graduation and entering art school) and happened to be really good at Algebra, something that we ended up competing at to be the best in class. We made a notebook to write notes to each other and quickly became best friends.

Hayley was the one I’d hang out with every Friday night with, who dragged me (kicking and screaming) to the prom since “you have to experience at least one high school function in your life!”, and was my best pal through thick and thin. She went off to college in eastern Washington and we communicated the best we could. When she moved back to western Washington, we picked up the pattern of hanging out and generally being each other’s social outlet. Hayley forced me to stop being a tomboy and, occasionally, appreciate the art of dressing up and being a girly-girl. She drove down with me to Phoenix when I decided to go back to college and listened to me whine about how homesick I was a month later.

Last Thursday, she came into town to visit me at my current location in Florida and take a break from the cold of the northwest. We did our Jane Austen hair while watching chick flicks, visited a Civil War battle site, and hit up St Augustine to check out some of the first coast history.

I know I have a friend for life who makes me be the girl I know I am, deep down inside. Someone who will veg out with me and travel great distances just to be a nerd and check out our mutual love of history and good times.

Technorati Tags: relationships, friends, high school memories, foreign exchange, chick flicks, girl friends, girls night, estrogen, civil war battle sights, girl power

How many different personas do you have? Do you have a work self, a private self, a relationship self, an online self, etc? Do they share some sort of thread of commonality or are you able to be the master of disguise, a chameleon, who can shape yourself according to the situation?

I have “personas” for the different situations of my life, however they all share in essence the same thread of my true self. Around my family, some friends, and of course Mack I am a loud, offbeat person who tells bad jokes and appreciates dark humor and all things good. I’m compassionate but can be crude and give them back the shit talk they will give me.

Around Mack’s friends or people I don’t really know I am terminally shy, soft spoken, and very reserved. Perhaps people think I am aloof and don’t like them? I open up and talk and become like my private persona the more I get to know you and what buttons set you off. I worry excessively about offending someone or somehow hurting them. It took me a long time in Phoenix to open up and show what a whacko I truly am around Mack’s friends who, in turn, became my friends as well.

With the online world, although I have the power of anonymity, I can be terminally shy. Rarely will I leave reviews on flickr, deviantart, or make comment on blogs since I worry about how I will be read and judged and fear misinterpretation. I worry that the trollers out there will just choose me as their next target to fling their hatred at and I’ll receive the brunt of it.

Don’t get me wrong though. I care what people think but I can shrug off criticism easily most of the time. It really depends on how close it hits to home. Call me an idiot and attack my work? Well, I am sorry, I know I am fairly intelligent and know my own mind and self so where is the basis of the judgement coming from? And attacking my creativity and work? Sorry to say, but I can improve with time and practices while you will always be a jerk. If you really make it personal and attack my family? That is pretty much a war declaration against me and you will not come out the victor.

I guess I can’t pretend to be a middle-aged man or high-powered CEO online. I can’t easily slip into the  anonymity of the internet and abuse the power which lies within it. I think my most rebellious “abuse” of the power was making an email account to check up on a friend who was going through a hard time and didn’t want to talk to me. Judge me if you will, but I think that is seriously the only abuse I have done online due to concern of a friend.

So: do you have many personas?

Technorati Tags: persona, online identity, identities, internet, anonymous, multiply personalities, user names

“The immigrant’s heart marches to the beat of two quite different drums, one from the old homeland and the other from the new. The immigrant has to bridge these two worlds, living comfortably in the new and bringing the best of his or her ancient identity and heritage to bear on life in an adopted homeland.”
- Irish President McAleese

While I wish I could claim to have Irish blood within my body, I haven’t studied my family history enough to know if I could yet prove that. My Dad’s Dad was born on Staten Island as his family moved from Germany in 1891. My grandmother was born in England over the pub that her parents owned. They immigrated to the United States when she was three years old. My mothers side? I know they have traced it back to the 16th century and her side is Mormon. Nothing against the faith but I know that somewhere in our family line there is an ancestor named Nimrod who had six or nine wives. I forget.

Good times.

I can go more into family history, but here is the point: I can’t honestly claim I am Irish and for that I am sad. My boyfriend is part Irish and is really, really proud of the fact. He comes from a big Irish family on his Mom’s side of the family and you could not meet a band of more loyal, warm-hearted, and lovable bunch of characters, ever.

Mack gets so excited as he researches his family history and looks more and more into his roots and deep connections to Ireland. His deep love and connection for his past and family makes me strive to learn more about my roots, where my family came from, and appreciate the history of it all.

This past weekend, we went to the St. Patrick’s celebration in our town and had a blast watching those around us get drunk off their arses and think that kilts are an Irish thing; they’re Scottish. Laughing, we took in the sights and snapped pictures, making memories and enjoying our time with friends and wishing family were there to partake.

The rest at my flickr set.

Before you all go out there and get a wee bit drunk (and hung-over on Wednesday) I encourage you to read up on Irish history and the backstory of St. Patrick’s day. That way you can appreciate this holiday as something besides an occasion to get drunk and have potentially incriminating photographs of you appear online the next day.

To all my Irish friends out there: Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

May the Irish hills caress you.
May her lakes and rivers bless you.
May the luck of the Irish enfold you.
May the blessings of Saint Patrick behold you.
~Irish Blessing

Technorati Tags: st patty’s day, st patrick, irish history, ireland, irish folklore, st patrick’s day, saint patrick, saint patrick’s day, irish quotes, irish festival

Yesterday, Mack and I made another epic trip down to Cape Canaveral to (finally) see the delayed launch of the Discovery to the International Space Station. In case you missed the news (which, if you don’t live in Florida and have no interest in happenings of NASA like a majority of the nation), it was originally supposed to launch on Wednesday of last week but that delayed. This delay was caused by a leak in the liquid nitrogen vent line between the shuttle and the external tank. Mack and I have seen plenty of videos of space shuttle and rocket launches GONE BAD and know that had they ignored that leak and just gone ahead, it would have been a nice big BOOM and we would discover why there is a three and a half mile radius of DO NOT ENTER zone around those shuttle launches.

But I digress.

The launch was scheduled for 7:43p.m. EDT and is about two hours away from where we live so naturally around 2PM I started harassing Mack that it was time to go like, TEN HOURS AGO. After taking my word to heart he burned an audio book of “Four Hour Work Week” for the drive down and off we went, around 3PM. Unfortunately for him and that audio book, I was in a very Irish mood due to the Irish Festival the day before so the two-hour trip was spent listening to Flogging Molly which, frankly, put me in a damn fine mood. I didn’t even mind when we took the Kennedy Space Center exit that the lights were out and it was a cluster-f**k every-whichway. Mack was on it though and was like “HOLD ON” as he got back in the freeway north and took the exit towards the Space View Park which, as it turns out, EVERYONE had thought of before us. Oh yeah, and their dogs too.

It wouldn’t have been as bad if the launch had:

1. been on Wednesday since people work on weekdays
2. a late (at night) launch.

But c’est la vie and do you see a parking spot? Did you see that woman and what she is wearing? As we inched through the area, with the teeming masses of humanity sitting and walking slowly on every square inch of that park, we looked at each other and decided it might be best to go sit in a dumpster instead. At least there we might be alone and have our space. Luckily, before we resorted to that, we went through a neighborhood and saw a sign inviting those who wanted to watch the space launch to view it (for free!) from their backyard. Cautious, we parked to check out what the deal was and oh my, straight shot view of the launch pad from across the water and much better then we’d be able to do at the park.

We were happy campers. So happy that we didn’t let the kids on my left (who’s parents gave them cinnamon rolls, energy drinks, potato chips and wondered why their kids were on a sugar rush) annoy us too much.

From the patio behind us, where the owners and their friends were watching the launch, they yelled out the countdown and all fifty pairs of eyes on their lawn looked across the water and witnessed NASA’s brilliance at work:

You can see the rest of them at my flickr set for the launch.

Obviously, the launch was amazing, awe inspiring, the whole nine yards. The part that SUCKED, though, was trying to leave the town. You can tell even that, even though there is a “Space Viewing Park”, this town does not believe in having a good infrastructure to handle the multitude of tourists who come in for launches. We left directly after the launch about 7:55PM and managed to get back the I-95 freeway about 11PM (we stopped for food for about 15 minutes at around 10:30PM since I was getting sick to my stomach). This, of course, meant we were home by 1AM which SUCKED. Worth it, but SUCKED.

Technorati Tags: space launches, discovery shuttle space launch, STS-119, cape canaveral, florida, launches, launch photography, NASA