Let the music carry you.

Music is my favorite companion. Whether it’s travel, exercise, morning commutes, or a really rainy day- it makes everything better. I’ve come to appreciate musical diversity with the people I know. Believe it or not, your musical taste is a great indicator of your personality, style, and outlook on life. While I won’t argue logistics- I happen to think my musical tastes are a great depiction of who I am as a person.  I was raised on the best kind of music- The Grateful Dead, The Beatles, Van Morrison, Cream, Clapton, and many more. Being able to bond with my parents over something so simple is an experience I’ll always cherish- it’s like being able to listen to the soundtracks of their childhood.

That being said, I’ve been reflecting on my relationship with music and I’ve discovered that it’s the best escape. I’ve often relied on it as my friend through hard times, or to teach me lessons, or even to get my foot tapping at times when smiling feels impossible. I’ve also relied on it for stress relief, exercise motivation, and as my trusty travel companion. People should always drive in their car with their stereo as loud as feasibly possible. Seriously, try it. If you have a bad day, always have your favorite album on hand. Turn it up, tap your hand to the beat, and sing your heart out. By the time you roll into the driveway, you’ll feel better. If you don’t feel that way, chances are you aren’t listening to the music you actually like. I believe music should play like an emotional string in your head- it should make you feel something. Find the music that is the soundtrack to your soul.

Here are some of tracks to mine!

Fleet Foxes- Drops in the River

My Morning Jacket- Hopefully

Dr. Dog- The Breeze

The Flaming Lips- Battles of Yoshimi Part 1

Iron and Wine- Boy With A Coin

Death of a Human Soul

Death is somewhat unfamiliar to me. While I’ve lost people very dear to me, I’ve been to less funerals than I can count on one hand. I’ve never experienced the loss of a close friend or family member, let alone a pet I was incredibly attached too. I’ve often questioned death as I questioned my spirituality as a child, and as an adult (and non-believer) it’s something I’ve put hours of thought in to. Obviously, there are scientific reasons why death is technically painless, but why is it that we’re so afraid of it?
Today, I attended the funeral of a man whom I did not know. He was a man who many people depended on and cared for. He had a lot of friends- hundreds of them, in fact. He worked hard, believed in God, did good things in the community, and lost every physiological need that most human lives can even fathom. This man was a resident at the Homeless shelter I do pro-bono PR for. When he passed I received an email from our shelter director within hours, expressing her pain that the local newspaper had reported on his passing but decided to use the word ‘transient’, which is a frequently known derogatory term in the field I work for. ‘This man was anything but a transient…” she said in her email.
I attended his memorial service today. Partly because I am a part of the community of this shelter, and partly because I believe he (and the other shelter residents) needed support at this dedication held at the Sanctuary he called home.

As we stood in a big circle in the parking lot of this over crowded downtown shelter, my emotions overwhelmed me. Volunteers, residents, members of the Faith community, and even board members locked hand in hand to share stories of this man, who had touched many of the lives of these people. All mourned in his passing, remembering all the good things he had done in the community, and many praised that he was now in a better place- where housing, homelessness, and health were no longer a premise of his day.

I believe death is one of the most common shared human experiences. Loss, especially death, is one that every person must face at some time. And we’re all scared as hell for it to find us. “Death is as much a part of life as anything else” said my wise best friend, who held hands with a six foot, scraggy man who had a cigarette in his other hand- all without fear, or judgement. We both smiled at the toddler with a fresh-blueberry face, who has no concept of the stigma homeless people carry upon them.
C. is on her 10^th funeral, including those very much a part of her life.  She’s right, in that death is a part of every human life at some time or another.

Done by a Sanctuary resident.

“He was a human soul,” said one of the residents about the man who we honored. It was  a simple saying with much meaning today. I’m honored to be a part of the memorial of a man who people loved and relied on- even when the majority of the Boise community and media outlets incorrectly identified him as a “transient”, which really means :

tran·sient   [tran-shuhnt, -zhuhnt, -zee-uhnt]  

adjective

1. not lasting, enduring, or permanent; transitory.

2. lasting only a short time; existing briefly; temporary: transient authority.

So, in a reality of things- we’re all transients. Why does running away from death feel so natural, when really, death can be no more scary or hard than this life we all live? 

Directionally Challenged.

When I was a little girl, my father forced me into hiking. I loathed it as a child and young teen. In fact, my father still references that it was more “death march-y” than hiking. However, in my past few years of adulthood I’ve really come to love it.

I don’t know if it’s the combined exercise endorphins and dopamine release along with the smell of mountain air and the sound of nothing…or if it’s just that I never really hated it at all, but had to keep up some dramatic excuse to be a lazy youngin’. Regardless, I now long for those cold nights in a sleeping bag followed by a challenging hike to some far away mountainous place.

C., N., and I jumped at weekend opportunity for two nights of camping, hot springs, and white water rafting. While I discovered and explored on many new aspects of myself during this weekend, some tended to shine “brighter” than others.

First, I discovered (or….admitted) to being directionally challenged. And whether she’ll divulge it or not, C. definitely does NOT help this disorder.

Me: “Okay, so what’s the road we’re looking for?”

C. “Highway 494”.

20 minutes later

Me: “Wait, what highway? 297?”

C. “I think it’s 427. Yeah! 427.”

N. frustrated

All in all, we mostly found where we were going.

It turns out wildfires had wiped out most of our hot spring destinations. But, a quiet, cool night in the mountain air, accompanied by a diamond sky (seriously….I forgot what it really looks like) definitely trumped out hot-springs let down.

After N. set C. and I directionally straight, we found “Molly’s Hot Spring”, which was a short walk across an abandoned bridge and scaling up the side of the mountain…in the middle of a burnt forest. It was charming, cute…and we were pretty happy we found something.

Lesson Two: Cooking eggs in the forest? No problem! We successfully steamed eggs in a bag!!! Not everyone knows this trick, so I’ll share with everyone compliments to my big brother Ry!

All you’ll need is:

-Something to boil hot water in (even a small propane camp stove will work.)

-Freezer zip-lock bags

-Eggs, Cheese, Ham, Peppers, Onions (or really, whatever you want.)

Put the eggs and your sides into the ziplock bag and seal out all the air. Put in the pot of boiling water, take it out every few minutes to let out the steam and squish the eggs around with your hands. After about eight minutes of doing this, you should have perfect steamed eggs. A great protein to start off any mountain adventure!!!

Lesson 3: Patience doesn't come easily to me....especially when blood sucking creatures are involved. Okay, growing up in Wyoming I am pretty used to those pesky little creatures. Granted we get them less in Idaho, I still feel as though I’m a pretty tough cookie when it comes to things like this. But this camp…..was terrible. We were literally slapping every place on my body, murdering tens at a time. If only murdering that many would have made the slightest difference.

Bug spray, smoke, moving around…NOTHING was working.

The solution? Throw your tent (sleeping bags and all) into the car and get the hell out.

Just a few short miles up the road, I found the spot we were originally looking for (remember that whole ‘directionally challenged’ thing?....) and it had 1/100^th of the mosquitos from Death-Camp.

 Us making freezer bag steamed eggs with my Primus campstove! 

 A meadow in Payette National Forest

N. and C. at Molly's hot springs!

All in all, a weekend sleeping on the hard ground and eating zip-locked eggs was pretty awesome. Topped off with a white water excursion down the Cobarton River with a few extended “framily” members.

It’s the stories like this I’ll want to remember forever.

Framily.

What is it about those certain people in our lives that we choose to call our “best” friends? I often feel like it’s a term that is thrown around too lightly, and that we don’t appreciate the true meaning of that bold statement. So, I ask myself, what qualities is it that defines the differences for the people I call my “best”? 

I asked a few people how they defined the difference between their friends, and those they call their "best friends”. Here are some responses I felt particularly touched by:

“Best friends are those who I perceive would feel a genuine loss were I to disappear. In my relationships with best friends, I fill a unique niche for them that others would not.”

“Best friends are people you can be brutally honest with.”

“My best friends are the people who act like family should. They probably know me as well as I know myself, and helping each other doesn't involve going out of the way because helping each other is the way”

“My best friends know about my past and things, whereas my friends just know like, my personality.”

I’ve noticed my feelings for my best friends change post college-graduation.  One moved to grad school, one moved to Ecuador, and the other moved into my house. Or, should I say “our house”, because really- we’ve made it into our home.

C. and I are like the married couple of our household- constantly bickering about “Who is making dinner?!” or “It’s not MY turn to do the dishes!” or “I am ALWAYS the one who cleans!”, and we hassle N. about doing the “man” things…you know like mowing the lawn, change the battery from the smoke detector, etc. All the while, still loving and respecting each other when we’re having a weak moment, helping the other with groceries or bills, and being there to laugh wildly. We’ve been lucky enough to experience this new phase of life together and we often use each other as a ‘reality check’.

C.2 is living thousands of miles away, but I think of her as our sibling that’s just gone for a while. We talk on the phone, Skype, email, and chat almost once a week. When we do, it’s full of chatter, laughter, venting, and of course the tears. “It’s funny,” I told her last week on the phone, “Because I support you in wherever you go, or whatever you do….but I’m ready for you to come home now.”  She later wrote me an email saying “Even though we’re in different hemispheres, I still feel us growing and changing together.” She is right.

We’re different in as many ways as we are the same. We all have different goals, struggles, and life directions.

S. and K. are both moving on with different things in their life…from Graduate school, to exploring new places to live. But, when we’re all together it’s as if nothing has ever changed. These are the people who make me the happiest.

Saying we’re “brutally honest” with each other would be an understatement. Except, I wouldn’t say “brutal”, I would say “respectfully honest.” We’re constantly helping each other out, whether it’s finances, stress, or just a good laugh. From bad boyfriends to music festivals, we treat each other like family….we’re more like Framily. I must say that every person I call a friend holds a special place in my heart.

I’ll conclude with this: My friends know who I am; and my best friends know why.

Here’s to you, Framily. Thanks for being my support, motivation, and happiness. 

Us in McCall, during C.2's semester in Costa Rica

Summer 2010

Graduation photoshoot

Baking cupcakes is normal...right?

I'm the daughter of an incredible cook. I try hard to be similar and cook her recipes for friends, but...it never seems to be the same. I've never been huge into baking but I stumbled across a website called "Ming Makes Cupcakes" and I fell completely in love. Truth is, I found this recipe over three weeks ago and I've been wanting to try them but instead pushed it off until now. 

Are you hungry yet?

Here's a few tips for those new (or experienced....) bakers out there that want to get frisky with these delicious cakes.

First: What the hell is confectioners sugar? I searched for at least ten extra minutes at the store thinking "my goodness, isn't this the baking aisle? Wouldn't they put all the sugar in this aisle?". After a few minutes of endlessly searching and learning towards giving up, I pulled out my trusty smart phone and googled it. Now, some of you may be laughing hysterically at this point...but I had no idea that it was really just powdered sugar. (Yeah, I have a college degree....)

Second: Cream of Coconut is NOT Coconut Milk. In fact, many of you readers may have no idea where you could find Cream of Coconut. I had to find it in my local Co-Op, and surpringsly- it was next to Margarita mix. Thankfully, I didn't follow my suggestion of "I think Coconut Milk should work" because it's not the same. Hardly even close. It had the consistency of bacon fat but smells pretty good. 

Third: I've never made "meringue" before, so when the recipe started to call for "stiff peaks", I got a little nervous. TIP: Use an electric mixer. It works sooooo much better.

Fourth: The frosting was the easiest part, but it called for Espresso powder. I didn't take the time into purchasing espresso powder because of my Espressemante Illy Machine I received from my brother and sister in law, so I used a single shot of oh-so-delicious espresso. 

Fifth: If you don't like sponge cake, don't make this. 

All in all, they turned out pretty good! 

So, you may be wondering: Is this a blog about cupcakes? And, well, my answer is "not really." I'm probably going to attempt a few cupcake recipes, or extravagant dinners paired with my favorite Idaho Wines. But really, this blog is about creating my new "normal". I didn't intend to write for people to read, but I'm doing it more for myself. 

My next question is: any taste testers?