My Rebel

I am obsessed with taking pictures. If you know me, you know this. And more than likely, you've been subject to my shutterbugness. I have several cameras of my own, 35mms that use film, a couple of digital cameras that don't, and an iPhone that does a pretty amazing job for a phone. I love love love taking pictures.

And, just as with anything I love doing, I want to be come better at it. I want to be a better writer, I want to be a better cook, I want to be better at everything, including photography. And part of that requires having better equipment. So, for my birthday, my awesome parents and Angela got me a new camera. My first DSLR camera. A Canon Rebel T3.

All my life I've dreamed of having a real professional camera, one with a big lens you could change and move. Seriously, I've wanted one since I can remember. But cameras are expensive and when you're not a photojournalist, unnecessary. So I made do. But next year Angela and I are going to Europe. And I want to take pictures. So many pictures. Amazing pictures. And not just with my phone. And did I mention my parents are awesome? Cause they are.

And the camera came with something cool, a three-hour class on beginning photography led by a Canon employee. So off Angela and went on Sunday (yes, I made her go because the camera is overwhelming and we both need to learn because I'd like a photo or two of me while in Europe - I mean it took me an hour to get the strap on the thing!) to the camera class. There were about 20 people there and it was awesome. The teacher went through all of the features on our cameras, had us put them on the best settings and then taught us things about F-stops and exposure and raw files and how to get the camera to take really amazing photos. I can't wait to go back and take another class!

So far we've only taken photos of the trees in our yard and each other but over the Thanksgiving break we're going to go on some adventures to practice. I'm so excited. And watch out, if you get any where near me in the next few months you might become my next subject!

Outer Space, or a Field Trip with Sixth Graders!

Two weeks ago today I was just stepping off a school bus. Now, as a former middle school teacher and as someone who lives with a middle school teacher, I've ridden my share of buses since I graduated from public school. They're big, they're yellow, they're bumpy, they're still smelly (especially when filled with sixth grade boys) and they're all driven by people who are not paid enough money to do what they do.

I was stepping off a school bus because six hours prior I had stepped onto one and been driven to the California Science Center along with Angela, another sixth grade teacher, a counselor at their school, several moms and one other sister, and 79 sixth graders. It was Angela's first field trip (our team golf outings never counted in Yuma because there were only a handful of kids and they always met us at the course and got picked up) and, due to her planning and hard work, it was awesome.

At the Science Center we toured the space shuttle Endeavor, the exhibits, ate lunch, listened to a real live astronaut speak about being up in Endeavor, and of course, raided the gift shop. All 90 plus of us. And it went smoothly and with only minor incidents. (The group with a mother attached wasn't lost really, they were just still absorbed in the hurricane simulator while we were looking for them so we could leave!)

I didn't have my own group of kids, I was Angela's chaperon. My job was to be her second set of eyes and ears, to hike back to the bus and schlep all the lunches to the grassy area where the kids could eat, to keep an eye on chaperons who seemed nervous or weren't used to watching out for so many kids at once, and to make sure we all got back on the bus. A lot of counting was involved. Luckily we had a really cool bus driver who was also really good at counting. (Seriously, if you've never been a chaperon you have no idea the counting you do. You do not want to be the adult who loses a child. All it takes is one to ruin the whole day.)

Here are some things I observed/learned/overheard on our day together:

• Sixth grade boys, on a whole, don't throw the ball to girls during silent ball. But those who do? (And there was one who did that morning...) Very, very smart.
• Also? Silent ball is not very silent in sixth grade. 
• Also? Did you know you can change the rules to silent ball mid-game? Apparently you can. We almost had a Lord of the Flies situation. I was ready to bolt. Every man for himself, right? 
• On the bus I sat next to two young men who were having a very serious conversation about how Eminem (yes, the rapper who I figured was too old school for them, I mean really, who is introducing these kids to Eminem because it's not Ryan Seacrest) is so bad because he's short. (For the record, according to Google, Eminem is 5'8" - I would have pegged him a little taller but then again, I'm a fan. Unlike a certain group of Los Angeles middle schoolers.)
•  At one point, midway through our exploration of the Endeavor exhibit, our group acquired an elderly man in a blue shirt. He seemed harmless, enjoyed looking over everything, and seemed oblivious to the fact that he was surrounded by screeching preteens. I figured he couldn't hear us. And I was glad we'd packed the extra school lunches no one would claim back at the school.
• Fake fart contests are a popular way to spend a bus ride.
• More than one kid didn't believe me when I tried telling her that what we were looking at was the real space shuttle. That had been up in space. 
  

They were incredulous. They were blown away. And frankly? That's what made the whole crazy day worth it. The fact that they got to see something that had been up in space. That they got to touch something that had been up in space. That they got to dream, for a few hours, about what it might be like to be up in space. How cool is that?

For me science class was never very interesting. I still don't know the different levels of the earth or why protons and neutrons and electrons are important. But I love learning about things like space and flight and zero gravity. I sat transfixed during the videos they showed that day, wondering myself what it might be like to be in one of those suits, up there looking down on everything.

And I love that there are teachers like Angela who spend their own time and some of their own money to take their kids on field trips like this one. I love that. I can't wait for the next one!

As Birthday Month Wraps Up...

It has been a long few months. Cross-country flights. Funerals. New jobs. Old jobs. Underemployment. Finding freelance work. Colds. Flu. Sadness. Joy. It's just been a lot.

But it's also been my birthday month for the last 24 days. And I love birthday month. Usually we use it as an excuse for everything, or a reason. But this month has been quieter. Much. We did celebrate my birthday in Michigan for the first time in 7 years, at the beginning of the month. Friends brought food to the house the weekend of the funeral and we decided to stick candles in the yummy chocolate cake we were gifted. I loved being able to celebrate with my parents. Beyond that, we didn't do much here in Los Angeles. A few days before the big day Angela reached out to some friends to organize my birthday evening. People had plans and couldn't make it so instead she surprised me with tickets to a really great play I'd been wanting to see downtown, THE SUNSHINE BOYS. A Neil Simon revival with Judd Hirsch, Danny Devito and Justin Bartha.

We ended up making an evening of it. Heading downtown after doing presents on Skype with my parents, we got really good tacos from a stand right there at the theater and ate overlooking the city's fountains. It was exactly what I think a Los Angeles evening should be and I loved it!

However, something else happened on my birthday that's never happened before. Even though the evening with friends didn't work out, some of my friends had a plan. I got a call a couple days before my birthday inviting me to Disneyland! I was kind of in shock. I know for many individuals in southern California, going to Disneyland is like going to the park, or the beach. But for me? It's well, like going to Disneyland!

I'd been once before, back the year after we moved here, with Angela and my parents. We did the whole two park shebang and it was a fun day. An expensive, fun, tiring day. Yes, you can do it all in one day if A) you don't have little kids, B) you hustle and I mean HUSTLE, and C) you don't mind being exhausted from a good 14 hours walking on concrete and standing in lines eating really expensive sugar all day. But we did it and we had fun. I still have the group photo of us all on my bookcase. However, after growing up with Disney World as the platinum standard, Disneyland failed to live up to my memories. So we hadn't been back.

Fast forward four years. Sonora called and asked and, I mean, it's my birthday right? And who doesn't want to go to Disneyland on her birthday??? So off we went!

So remember that checklist from a paragraph ago? None of that happened. And that made it a perfect day. First off, we got there about 10. There were no lines, we parked relatively close (I mean it is October, that probably helps with it not being as crowded), and breezed right in. We stopped for some pictures and headed right to Town Hall where Sonora's wonderful wife Dasha (who couldn't go with us but planned the day!) had told us to get a birthday button. And we did.

No, the birthday button doesn't let you skip lines or get your free ice cream or anything like that. But guess what? It was a magical button and I hated to take it off at the end of the day. I was a little hesitant at first to pin it on but I figured, when in Disneyland...so off we went, me and my button. And immediately, the magic started. Walking down Main Street people started saying Happy Birthday Sarah. Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday.

Now, I love Disney's customer service. They do it up right, always have in my book. Every time we've stayed at a resort or visited a park or even gone to a store, they're awesome. I love that about the company. But last Friday? It was even cooler. Every time I came into contact with a park employee, they wished me a happy birthday. And it wasn't just employees, random other park goers got in on the act. And that encouraged me to do it as well. As we waited for our lunch reservations, I noticed the woman next to me had a button on. We chatted briefly about sharing the same birthday and found out we were born at almost the same time, just a few years apart.

Sonora and I had a great day. We took our time wandering around the park. We jumped onto the Pirates ride because there wasn't really a line. Even the wait at the Haunted Mansion was minimal. We spent more time searching for these amazing rice krispie treats than standing in line. We took the Nemo submarine ride which was cute and new, just to remember it's fun to act like a kid again. We had an amazing lunch at the Blue Bayou restaurant complete with raspberry light up lemonade and

flourless Mickey cake that was beyond amazing.We watched a young girl do the entire Mary Poppins routine on the sidelines at the parade and get pulled into the act by Mary herself. We took photos outside the castle and bought souvenirs inside. And then? Only a few hours after we'd arrived, we headed back out the gates, way ahead of any of the crowds. We took our time and soaked it all in and realized we'd spent the perfect amount of time. No sunburns were had, no blisters were formed, no sugar comas induced (though I did eat that giant frosted rice krispie treat and my birthday dessert,
don't judge).

So do I recommend heading to Disneyland on your birthday if you ever get the chance? Absolutely. How fun to just forget the outside world and go to what truly may be the Happiest Place on Earth for a few hours. Go with an amazing friend. Forget calorie counts and cell phones and walk five miles without realizing it and wish everyone else with a birthday button a happy day.

Sonora & me

Holding Her Close and Remembering

One week ago today I was wearing the same brown dress, the same brown sandals and the same tear stained look I've worn way too much over the past 75 days. And I was, once again, for the third time, carrying the casket of one of my grandparents and laying it inside a hearse. 

Grandma Millie had gotten pneumonia back in November. She hadn't felt well in quite some time before that and she'd moved into an assisted care facility shortly before. She never really recovered fully from this last illness. She talked being done with life, being in pain, being unhappy. She hadn't golfed in years, she couldn't drive anymore. Yes, she still played cards with the girls and sent cards to us grandkids and laughed and complained about sports. But she was ready to pack it in and go see Grandpa. So this summer, when she entered hospice care, we knew the end would come sooner rather than later. 

Last week that end came. And as Angela and I boarded our forth flight to Detroit since June, I thought about the fact that I no longer have any grandparents. For a girl who grew up with six grandparents (and a slew of family friends we called grandparents), this is going to be quite a change. 

First Lieutenant Mildred Ludwig of the United States Army, 1945

Grandma lived a whole other life before any of us still alive knew her. She was a Registered Nurse in the United States Army at the end of World War II. She accompanied war brides home on ships. She traveled. She worked as a nurse until 1993. She married my grandfather in a ceremony in a place no one can quite identify. It was my grandfather's third wedding, her first and only. With that marriage she gained two stepsons (my Dad and my uncle Terry). And then she would go on to have two more children later in life (my aunt Gloria and my uncle Rich).

I didn't spend as much time with Grandma Millie as I did with my other grandparents. She lived in Lansing, almost an hour's drive from us, and it was usually birthdays, holidays and special occasions that brought us together. Those were good times, yes. It just wasn't as frequent as I saw the others. When we would get together there would usually be pork roast or turkey, everyone gathered around the table, a football or basketball or golf game playing in the background on the television. Inevitably, Uncle Rich would pull out the big five-quart container of vanilla ice cream after dinner even if we were all stuffed. The cards would find their way to the center of the table and we'd play and laugh and talk late into the night. We'd settle in and it felt like we'd always been there. I loved that.

I also loved how much she supported what us grandkids did. She was always the first to send a birthday card or give a Christmas gift with a little something to help us on our way. I don't remember a lot about the State Finals I played in my senior year of high school but I do remember Grandma and Grandpa finding me in the parking lot of the golf course at MSU and her handing me a box. Inside were little golf golf bag earrings that she had me put on right there for luck. I wore those earrings last Monday.

My dad was technically Millie's stepson. We were technically her step grandchildren. But not once do I ever remember her saying this or insinuating this. We were hers. We were loved and cared for just as much as the others. We were never forgotten. The same can be said of her. I send a lot of letters and cards, and this morning, I thought about my list. It has dwindled dramatically this summer. I thought about how much I'll miss seeing her smile and getting a big old bear hug from her when I go home to Michigan to visit. But, more than anything, I know she's much happier now. I know she's feeling better and in no pain and with grandpa and her beloved brother, Ed.

However, I also know that life is different now. This Christmas when I go home, there will be no grandparents to visit or wrap presents for. There will be no wine or Hot Damn or golf shirts to buy for Grandma Millie. There will be no bubble bath to buy for Grandma Bette. There will be no Moose Munch or snacks to buy for Grandpa Jim. But that doesn't mean they're forgotten. That doesn't mean that we can't remember. We can look through photo albums and laugh over stories at Christmas dinner. We can hold them close. And I will. So close. Just as they held me close for the past 35 years. 

It's all about me

It's October. Yeah. I know. It was just July. Or maybe August. But I have no idea where September went that's for sure. But anyway, it's October. That means two things.

1) There will be postseason baseball on my TV soon. And...
2) It's my birthday month.

Yep. It's true. I don't just have a birthday anymore. I have a birthday month. I don't know when this first started but a little bit ago. Sometimes it's hard to celebrate on your actual birthday. Sometimes you have to go to work, stay late, go to the dentist, people can't come out on a Wednesday, blah blah blah. So you stretch your birthday for a day here or there. Celebrate on the weekend. Or go to lunch the following week with a friend. It's all good. And BAM! before you know it, you've got yourself a birthday month.

And October is mine.

So what happens during my month? Well, sometimes there are birthday dinners or parties or the aforementioned lunches. Sometimes there's a reason to go shopping when you don't really need anything. It's a good way to justify going for ice cream or using those extra birthday coupons you get for free whatchamajiggles. And there's the anticipation of gifts and cards or nowadays, a hundred Facebook posts.

But this month I want to do something different. I want to focus some of my energy and time, two things that are pretty precious to me, on me.  So to start? I'm doing a month-long exercise challenge. Who am I challenging you ask? Well, me. Just me. I made a calendar this morning and challenged myself to a both a 30-day squat challenge and a 30-day plank challenge. I found some guidelines online and these things both seem very doable. In fact, I can do them both while watching the aforementioned postseason baseball games. I'm also going to challenge myself to walk every day. Somedays, like today, it'll be four miles. Other days it might be two or one mile. One mile takes me 15 minutes and I can do it in my room or in the neighborhood. As long as I walk. I'm also going to keep up with a regular kettlebell/cardio routine. Angela and I have been getting better at the Jillian Michaels video we bought and yesterday I didn't feel like I would die. I'd say that's improvement.

So why the challenge? Well, I want to be healthier. I need to be healthier. I'm still dealing with lung issues from the pneumonia/penicillin problem almost 20 months ago. I'm still dealing with the residual weight gain that resulted from the month long steroid regimen that helped solve the pneumonia/penicillin problem. I'm glad to be alive but I need to be stronger and leaner and healthier. I need my heart and lungs to be working at full capacity. And so? For my birthday, I'm making this month all about me. I'm going to put aside time and make it a priority. I'm going to mark off the items on my calendar just as I mark off the items on my work to-do list.

So here's to a great October! Here's to birthday month! Here's to me! Game on!