Flashback Fridays -- Peeing in the woods.

Yeah, we've all done it. 
Lately the desperation of having to pee in the woods has been bringing my spirits up.  Not that I'm really down... but whenever I miss my family, my friends from home, or the exhilaration of traveling, I'll go to my strangest happy memory.
When you're peeing in the woods, there's no property anymore.  The land goes back to being this wonderful place that belongs to no one.  Let's face it, you can really get to the point where you can appreciate that tree and that dirt when you have to pee so badly it's making your fillings rust.


Peeing from coast to coast.
It's always good for an awkward snicker in public, that's for sure..

Flashback Fridays -- People you can't forget.

There are many people I will never forget, simply because you could NEVER forget them if you even tried to...like Burkett Wakefield Fleming.
Burkett was a true gent who lived almost directly below me in college.  He spoke in a fake British accent, dressed like Sherlock Holmes every single day  (expect for laundry day, when he wore a t-shirt.), and often invited me (and the girls who lived on my floor) down for tea.  I loved Burkie Baby, and I miss the way he used to make me laugh without trying.  Really and truly.

College wasn't the same after he graduated...Mansfield University just wasn't Mansfield without his death stare and booming laugh ...similar to this one:

What a man.






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Flashback Fridays -- Days with/without hair dye.

I'm often asked if I dye my hair.  I don't.
Sometimes I say that I've never dyed my hair, but what I really mean to say is that I've never permanently dyed my hair.

There was a time (oh yes!) when I dyed my hair bright red.  Please allow me to set the stage:
I was the most radical of the radical feminists, and I listened to (possibly) too much Joni Mitchell.   My favorite piece of artwork at the time was The Liberation of Aunt Jemima and I had recently decided to be Lucille Ball for Halloween.
Let face it;  it was my duty to go big or go home.
So I went big.  Big red.

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Flashback Friday -- Traveling Days.

After I flew to Florida with my sister earlier this month, we parted ways and I flew back to Wisconsin by myself.
It made me miss my days of traveling.
2008 and 2009 were my years of great travel.  I went everywhere in the country on a whim, excluding 9 states (9, including Alaska and Hawaii.)  I played music in crazy towns in the rocky mountains, flew to Seattle, El Paso, Philly,  bussed from Montana to Pennsylvania, and I drove from Pennsylvania to Madison all by myself (and my sewing machine, musical instruments, and books.)  Being in the air by myself again made me yearn for my wild life.

Looking back on in now, I see how spontaneous and dangerous a lot of the things I was doing really were, but at the same time, I long for the danger and excitement of not knowing where I'm going to be sleeping that night, or if I would even be sleeping at all.  The majority of my traveling at that time was for emotional healing and patching my heart, and I don't think I was thinking about what I was doing because I was just looking for my next answer hidden in an adventure.
I'm so much happier and calm now that I live in Madison with Jason and our cats, and certainly I wouldn't trade it in for my wild, unexpected lifestyle.  I guess I just crave the freedom I used to have of not belonging anywhere, and living off the grid.
Maybe I should just go camping!  HA!

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Flashback Friday

Sarah was the best friend in high school. We met during my sophomore and her freshman year of high school through our mutual friend, Carolina.
She never sang in chorus class, she never wore pants, and she ate pineapple even though she was allergic to it.
She was my partner in crime for three years of my life.

She helped me get to know my button press, and I taught her how to knit.
I cut her hair and she cut mine.
We were as thick as the soles on a pair of Chucks, basically.
But like the black rubber ring that's attached to the sole of my favorite sneakers, things eventually fell apart.
I left for college, she became more serious with her steady beau, and we drifted.
I mourned the loss of our friendship for years.


I found out that Sarah died the day before I left for my first tour. Her boyfriend, Mark, came to my parents house while I was packing, to tell me. It wasn't until I was on the road that it hit me that it was real, and it wasn't until I returned home that I came to terms with the fact that she was actually gone.
I've been so blessed to have warm friendships with beautiful, lovely people, but none of them have ever been like Sarah, and I don't think that any other could ever be like Sarah.
She was such a redwood.

Flashback Fridays.

Today I was walking my favorite two year old, in hopes that she would fall asleep on this lovely day that we were completely blessed to have (50 degree weather in November...in Wisconsin. I'll take it!) On my walk, I passed many scents.
Food being prepared, crunchy leaves being burned in the distance, and of course, the smell of something crawling up your nose and and proceeding to die there.


Whenever this happens, I am brought back to when I visited the Great Salt Lake on my first tour, and how completely disgusting it was.
It smelt, looked, and felt like pure yuckfest 2008.

Rob illustrates.That stuff that looks like plantlife....yeah, it's actually bugs clumped together.

By the way, although the Great Salt Lake was repulsive, it was worth seeing,
and I would rather picture that whenever I smell something gross rather than something that might make me want to puke.