Shades of white

While I don't embrace the concept of tanning (I gave up on that after visiting several countries where everyone was trying to be whiter. It just seemed backwards, and I decided at that point to embrace the fact that I'm a white white girl and get on with life), I do like a good farmer's tan. It's an honest, earned tan, a tan that says, "I spend time outside, living life, doing my thing." So, I consider this a very small mark of honor:

My own little mark of Zorro!

I saw a sign

I've been going through old photos (old being within the last 5 years, which is not that old. We're not talking black and white, or even pre-digital here. I don't even know why I said old. Seriously) to pick some for my digital photo frame (thanks Renegades!)  and came across some signs that I've taken pictures of. Because sometimes, signs are really funny. So, here is the latest in my sign gallery, from the lovely location of Mackinac Island (taken last year when I was there for a conference. See! Not even old!):

(For the record, Doghouse is a food stand that sells hot dogs. But don't you just love the sign)

You pretty much have two food options on Mackinac. American pub and Fudge. Some brave soul decided to introduce a third option, but most visitors weren't sold on it. It was the only uncrowded dining establishment while I was on the island. The name is clever, but most people just don't say, "You know what I could really go for? A salad bar, with some frozen yogurt afterwards."

There's a mathematical/existential conundrum for you. 

And this one, on the way back from Mackinac. I think that this policy is more than just, and should possibly be introduced in more areas of society. Although, we better be clear on the meaning of "unattended". Because sometimes, life happens. 

That's all for this edition of Signs I saw. But stay tuned!

Silver linings

In case you wondered, you shouldn't leave out the egg when mixing a brownie mix. Especially a Ghirardelli brownie mix. On the scale of tragic kitchen disasters, it's at least an 8.

On the bright side, I may have figured out how to make brownie brittle (yes, that's a thing).
Also, it isn't as bad as broiled chocolate chip cookies. (Who puts the oven dial on broil? It's never on broil. 350. It always sits at 350. But, if you want cookie brittle...)
And, I now have justification for buying ice cream, which might make my brittle eggless brownies a little more edible. (Let's be honest. It's chocolate. Ghirardelli chocolate. I'm still gonna eat them. At least, most of them. They are edible. And not even bad edible. Not brownie edible, but not gag-me-down edible either.)

Anyone want to trade me some brownies for a few silver linings?

It's the small things

It's the weird traffic things that you don't have to do anymore.

It's the differences in scenery.

Having to use quarters instead of a laundry card.

Hanging hangers up like a normal human being.

New brands at the store.

Missing brands at the store.

No guest parking at your apartment building.

Forgetting that the place that used to be 5 hours away is now 20 hours away.

Lost teeth.

Facebook pictures.

Mixing up the zip code.

Paper.

Hearing Spanish.

Fingers on autopilot typing in the old login.

Runway kind of day

Do you ever have those days when you know you look smokin' hot? The hair is right, the outfit is sexy, the shoes are perfect, and you just know you look good, like movie star or model or publicity good? And when you finally get home, your sweats or pjs or lounge wear are calling your name and you totally ignore them because you look good, and you feel good in what you're wearing, and you just want to make it last?

Yeah, today is one of those days.

The me that I have been

There's a podcast I listen to, of the "2 dudes talking" variety (according to the podcasters). One of them wrote this blog post about how he's died many deaths, meaning as he's grown and had new experiences and changed and he's basically no longer the same person as he was a year or two years or three years ago or whatever. And in that sense, he's died many times. At least, that's what I think the gist of it is.

It's an interesting way of thinking about things, and not an entirely inaccurate one. At the basic level I tend to agree. But I'm getting ready to move and in saying farewells, I'm a little worried. There are people near and dear to me and we keep up those relationships through consistent contact. So what happens when I go away, when we don't interact with each other the same way? I know moving on to a new job is going to change me--I'll 'die' in the way this guy is talking about. But I want the new me to have those same relationships. I want to be the same kind of person they would want to be friends with. And I want to be the same kind of person who values them. How do you balance that, changing and adapting to new things in new places while still being the person you are and were?

I've done this before, and haven't ever really thought about it. I know that some people stick in life, and some people properly 'fade' out and that's okay. But I don't know if I've ever wanted to have people stick like I do right now. And there are qualities I've discovered about myself that I want to stick, too, and this move--I worry that it will kill off those qualities, qualities that I want to keep. And being so aware of it will make losing them a slow and painful death, if that happens.

I know I shouldn't worry about it, but everything--EVERYTHING--has been so uncertain and so off that I do worry about it. It's what we do when life is crazy. We hold on to what we care about.

What I'll Miss

Fireflies
Green
Apples. So many kinds of apples. Envy, Pinata, Jazz, Opal, Sweetango, Pink Lady, Honeycrisp, Ambrosia...
Water practically everywhere
My job
The wildlife that has no sense of boundaries, including Aeon the turkey, the deer daycare, Mary, Sue, and Coleman, and the squirrels (including the black ones)
The Bloomfield Hills Clan, 2, 4, 6, 8, 13, 20, and the parents
The Renegades (especially Brian)
Sunday teaching
Temple Tuesday
Actual diversity, as much as it sometimes drives me crazy (can't we all just get along?!)
Alyce, the other me
All of the opportunities, the "what could have been"s: people I could have gotten to know better and things I might have done and experiences I might have had
Home