Just another reason I'm an outcast

It's the end of yet another Pride month, another year has past, and another time when I've thought, it's not my time to tell my story. Not my time to "come out". Well, maybe I should anyway. Is there really ever a "good time" for anything that may come back to bite you in the ass? No. So hello internet, it's me. What, you didn't know I was in a closet? Neither did I.

I finally figured out that I am asexual... about 2-3 years ago. I'm 42... and a half. I didn't know what asexuality was until about maybe 5 years ago. I never learned about it in school. Come to find out asexuality was still considered a mental disorder up until 2013 by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) published by the American Psychiatric Association. Dang. It was never talked about in any of my social circles. I never knew there was an actual scientific sexual orientation that I actually identify with. Look at me, look at me, I fit into a box! It's a tiny box. Only 1% of the entire worlds population are asexual. 1. One. ONE PERCENT. It's a tiny box, but if I fits, I sits.

Now coming out as Ace, as we call ourselves apparently, is no real big deal. I doubt I will be persecuted in any way for being Ace. We're known as the invisible orientation. We blend in. We are a small group. Majority of people don't even know we exist. I didn't for a very long time, see above. I see all these young people on social media being proud ace's and I'm so jealous. They know what they are. I knew who I was as a teen and young adult, don't get me wrong, but I thought I was somehow just so awkward and weird, and that I wasn't worthy or deserving of a "partner" was why I was 99% of my life single. I thought there was something wrong with me. God bless the internet.

These kids know there is nothing wrong with them. They're just ace. And eat cake.

Okay, let me explain, in case you are ignorant like I was.

What does asexual even mean? Asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction to others, or low or absent interest in or desire for sexual activity. It may be considered a sexual orientation or the lack thereof. It may also be categorized more widely to include a broad spectrum of asexual sub-identities. These sub-identities are wide ranging from aromantics, grey-sexual, and demi-sexual, and can be across all spectrum's within the LGBTQ. You can be a gay ace, a lesbian ace, a trans ace, bi ace, or like me, a hetero ace, etc.

From here down, this is my life and experiences with being ace. Like stated above, there is a wide range of ace-ness, and this is just mine. So growing up in a christian religion that taught sex before marriage was a sin, I had no problem with abstinence. I had no desire. It just wasn't there. I thought, geez people it's not that hard, why you getting std's and making babies? I didn't realize I was wired differently then. Well, I thought I was to socially awkward to even attempt dating. I didn't realize I didn't want to date was because I just didn't want to. I never dreamed about getting married. Never wanted to have children. I don't have a biological clock. If given the option of sex or cake, I'll take the cake every time.

Ace's don't desire or even need sexual (and in aro's, romantic) relationships to feel whole or fullfilled or complete. And so in my youth and early 20's I even questioned whether or not I was even a heterosexual. Maybe I am lesbian? I obviously don't feel sexual attraction to guys. Maybe I like girls? No. I don't. I feel even less sexual attraction to women, if that's even possible.

I've had a total of two boyfriends. I'm 42, remember? Two. And I don't even think the first one should even count because we were in the 5th grade, and all we did was hold hands a few times and hang out at recess together and make fun of his best friend. The other one was in college. And I had to be told, quite bluntly, by several friends, that he was interested in me. And I tried so hard to be like hey look at me, I'm normal, see? Look I have a boyfriend, I'm not gay (yes I'm calling out my own ignorance here). I'm not weird. Look, I'm normal. I'M NORMAL! But dang was that hard. I had that one boyfriend for two years and that second year was spent in misery because I was too scared to break it off. Not scared for my safety or anything like that but I didn't think I had a legitimate reason. Oh younger me, if I had only known then that you don't need a reason at all. Looking back now, I can see why the entire relationship was so hard and all my flawed thinking. But I didn't know. I do now. And understanding and learning what my sexual orientation actually is is so liberating.

It was very similar to the feeling when I was medically diagnosed with depression. I knew I had it, but the validation from several medical professionals was freeing. A weight was lifted off my shoulders. I knew what I had, for realsies. Same with realizing I'm ace. My life made so much more sense.

I'm not a freak for loving the fact that I'm alone. Ace's fill their needs for social human connections just like everyone else. We have friends. We just don't need friends with benefits. And no, it's not a hormone imbalance. It's not a fear of sexual intercourse. No, it's not painful to have sex. And no, it's not from a sexual trauma. It's not a condition. It is a valid, normal sexual orientation.

What I and other ace's get tired of is everyone else. Our society is extremely sexualized. You all are obsessed with it. It's everywhere. It's how most products are advertised. Sex sells. Isn't that the saying? Just watch any commercial or print ad. How are they selling the product? Wear this, buy this, drive this, eat this and whatever sexual orientation you're into will fall at your feet. Even products that don't push sex down our throats are still advocating or insinuating generally the heteronormative sexual lifestyle. And by that I mean, if it isn't selling you sex, it is selling you a sexual partner, marriage, a family with kids. If you're renting or buying a place to live and you're single, it is presumed it's a bachelor pad, temporary, until you meet your significant other.

You know what we really hate? The "Oh you just haven't met the right person yet". Pity. We hate pity. So sorry you're still single. Please. You have no idea how happy I am that I don't have to deal with any of that shit. You all are like, oh my god, I'm so sorry, you haven't had sex in how many days? Uh, try decades. I love the fact that I don't have to share a bed. I love that I don't have to depend on or be depended on for any type of sexual or romantic adoration, need, or desire.

But sex is everywhere in our culture. 99.9% of TV, movies, and even literature is sexual. If the two lead characters aren't together it's either because there is some sort of angst or they have other partners. All the supporting characters have partners or desire partners. If they are single, it's not because they are ace, it's because they have some sort of "flaw" that prevents them from having a sexual partner. I always found it so alien to me why characters were hooking up when they do in media. Why are they having sex right now? I don't get it. They haven't even solved the murder yet. They just met like 20 minutes ago! Now I get that it's just how you 99% think all the time. Do you not find it exhausting thinking about sex all the time? I mean, give it a rest.

I'm happy that I am single. My life is fulfilled. I am a complete human. I never understood the "not a full person without your other half" thing. Like I'm somehow not a fully fleshed person unless I have a sexual or romantic partner. Screw that.

Now don't get me wrong, I can and do enjoy tv, movies, and books with sex and romance. It's been streamed into my eye holes forever. That is again 99% of all media. I mean seriously, how many books have you read or shows have you watched that had an ace lead character? Hell even an ace secondary character? I'll wait...

And before you ask me way to personal questions and you're actually interested in what I just said. Start here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R9tSal4YyII

Then we can have some conversations.

Last thing, the "A" in LGBTQIA doesn't stand for "ally". It stands for me.

So this socially awkward, middle aged, crazy cat lady is trying to wear her scarlet letter with Pride. Step one: step out of the closet and say hello.

Hello

Another video you may find interesting and entertaining is Anthony Padilla's series called "I spent a day with" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zW29J3nxjis

cluck cluck

I've been needing to write and late last night I did and posted it. I didn't link it to facebook or twitter because I wasn't to sure about it. I went to sleep thinking about it and decided this morning to pull it. So if you're one of the three people that read it, kudos for being up at 2am and finding my blog. For you others, well, maybe I'll repost it (if I grow a spine). I got scared that it was too much to personal. I don't know. Call me chicken, here me cluck.

Can I do it? Yes, I can!

So I’ve been somewhat quite here the last few weeks on the blog. I’ve put everything including this blog on the back burner for two weeks in order to focus all my nervous energy toward the Business Plan Competition I entered. Today was the first round of the competition. Lucky for me, I was one of the first to pitch to my panel of judges. As I write this first paragraph I have yet to know if I survived and made it to the finals, which will be on May 3rd.

I’m sitting here on the CSU Monterey Bay campus waiting till 1:30pm for the announcement.

I had written about how nervous I can get here. For this... my nervousness started 8 days prior to the competition day. With a ball of fuzzy in my chest. I spent most of my time reading over my 5 minute pitch and trying to get it memorized. I would wake up in the morning feeling nervous and at times during the days and when I would go to sleep at night. The big “ugh” was when I started breaking out in the worst pimple fest in over 10 years. I even popped one this morning. The day before the competition (yesterday) I felt ok. I finished getting the car ready (gas), quarters (parking), and went to Target and Kohl’s and bought new clothes for the pitch. I got really happy at Target when I tried on the pants and they fit and they were a size 6!! I ran through the pitch a lot that day and evening. I couldn’t sleep however. But I knew that would happen. I maybe got 3 hours of shut-eye.

I got there 45 minutes early. I signed in at 9:30. I was scheduled to pitch at 10:30. They called me at 10:05 and said will you be ready at 10:15? Uh, ok. They were running ahead of schedule. I was actually done and out by 10:30. I got really nervous just before I walked in the room. There were four judges, all male. I had met one of them earlier during a workshop for this competition. I stumbled a bit and skipped a bit, but I think I got my points across and got some head nodding and raised eyebrows and even some smiles out of those dudes. I felt good about how it turned out. No matter if I make it to the next round, it was good to go through the experience.

During the week leading up to this, I kept thinking about how people can get up and do this all the time. And how performers can do what they do in front of an audience. It certainly isn’t in my wheelhouse. I’m actually surprised I haven’t completely broke down and gone into full panic attack mode. There has only been one time in my life that I was ever unable to perform. And it was when I was maybe 14 and was to play the piano for the church offertory. The previous time I did the offertory, I did horribly but trudged through it and finished. The Pastor had stopped me from leaving the platform after and said to me and everyone in attendance that he was proud of me for finishing that and asked me to replay that particular song the next time I was up in the offertory rotation. By then I was crying and just nodded my head. I just wanted to disappear. I went back and practiced and a few months later I was up in the rotation. During the service I was getting really nervous and actually started shaking and crying. Bless my mother, she asked if I wanted to NOT do the offertory and I nodded. She got up and told my piano teacher who helped lead the music for the church that I wasn’t going to do it. She then let me leave and go home.

I’ve seen people go into full on panic attack and it isn’t pretty. I came to realize yesterday that I can do this. I won’t panic. And that I can do anything I put my mind to. I may not do it well, but I can do it! Just look at this.

Click to see me jump off a cliff

When I went to New Zealand in 2009, I signed up with two other REI trekkers to do the Canyon Swing. I think that was the most nerve racking thing I have ever done previously or since, including today! Hopefully you can see the video. If you watch closely and listen closely you can see my legs shaking and my voice quiver. They were not going to push me off the edge. I was going to have to do it. I lingered for quite a bit. I thought about backing out while I was standing there. But I did it. I made myself go over the edge. And what an experience it was. Total fear and then total exuberance and bliss. Pure adrenaline. It was an amazing experience.

So if I can get myself to go over a cliff while in total fear of my life, I can certainly give a five minute pitch. And that realization is what got me through yesterday, last night, and today. I still don’t know if I made it through to the next round of the competition, but man, I am extremely happy right now.

*I didn’t make it to the finals. I was bummed. I really wanted to make it. But I understand that even though I can get up and pitch, doesn’t mean I am good at it. I know it is not a strong suit of mine. I am waiting on feedback from one of the judges. I am curious as to if I didn’t get to go on because of how I presented or the actual content of what I said. I’ll let you all know, when I do.

Again, thank you to all of you who prayed, thought of me, sent me texts, gave me words of encouragement, sent good vibes, etc. Even though I was standing alone up there, you were all with me. So thank you. Truly.

Tell him I stutter

I did not want to do my workout today. I just wanted to lay in bed. Did not have much energy, not that I usually do in the mornings anyway. I purposely put my workout clothes on as soon as I got out of bed, knowing that if I didn’t, I wouldn’t. I forced myself to do it. No bribery or incentives. Just forced myself to put the tennies on and get out the door. And when I got back from the run, forced myself again to do the new circuit routine.

It’s nice that I don’t have to use my old bribery tricks anymore, but that may only be because I can’t spend money. But this post isn’t about why I didn’t feel like working out today. I’ll write that one later... perhaps.

During the run, I was thinking about my anxiety. How nervous I can get. Why? Because I’m already thinking about a short 5 minute pitch/presentation I will be doing at the end of March as part of a Business Plan Competition.

I have talked about my anxiety and nervous tendencies before on the blog here and here but I have never revealed here how intense it can actually get.

In grade school, I remember that while my friends were being pulled out of class to go play on the computers in the GATE program, I was being pulled out of class for speech therapy (back when public schools had money for speech therapists, counselors, and computer labs). I have a stutter. My brother has a more intense stutter than I do. He also got speech therapy at school. Speech therapy didn’t cure my stutter, but I know when it will happen and how to stop it. Which often includes me stopping mid sentence and exchanging words that I know I will stutter on to different ones. Is it why I am such an introvert? No, I think I’d be an introvert even if I didn’t have the stutter.

When I have to get up and speak in front of people, my stutter is always in the back of my mind. But it isn’t the reason I get extremely nervous. I’m not embarrassed by my stutter, I never was. I see it as more of an annoyance, having to stop speaking in order to continue speaking. It interrupts the flow. I also now know why my writing voice is so different than my actual speaking voice. I cannot physically push out of my mouth what I write. I trip over words, easy words. I even have a hard time reading aloud.

So if my stutter isn’t the main reason for my anxiety and nervousness, then why mention it? I don’t think most of you understand how nervous and anxious I actually get. My parents know, my sister knows, even one of my nephews knows. Why? Because they suffer from it to varying degrees themselves. I have also learned over the course of my life to date to hide it. At one of my first archaeology jobs, I threw up on the job site... twice. I didn’t have the flu, it was all nerves, and no one there knew.

I get nervous meeting new people. Starting a new job. Going somewhere I haven’t been to before. Job interviews, phone conversations, confrontations, doing something I’ve never done before, I even get nervous when friends come by (completely silly, I know). There’s much more too. So it becomes pretty obvious that I have performance anxiety.

I’ve broken down and cried after a piano performance and a violin performance when I was younger. Luckily my violin teacher saw how traumatizing the experience was for me and said that she would never make me do anything like that ever again, and kept her word.

So it is easy for me to get to a state of physical breakdown when I have to “perform”. I will get the shakes, ears will burn, voice quivers, sweaty hands, butterflies, my stutter comes out, and like I mentioned tears, and the ultimate, so nauseous, I puke. I would sometimes take ginger pills not because of motion sickness, but because I didn’t want to puke due to nerves. Although, one time I puked up the ginger pill. Oh well.

I still don’t think I have explained this well. Just know that even though it will only be 5 minutes, it will feel like the longest 5 minutes of my life. In the grand scheme of things, it is little. But it is the biggest little thing.

No matter how many times I have done things like this, speeches, presentations, recitals, it doesn’t get easier. I don’t care if you tell me, the more you do it the easier it will get. That is a lie. Especially for someone like me who suffers with performance anxiety to this extreme.

So that I don’t leave you on a downer, because I have been dealing with this my entire life and I understand what my body will do to me, I have learned to not let it paralyze me. I have ways to calm myself. To hide the nervous ticks and the quake of my voice. When I need to, I step out of my comfort zone, and do what needs to be done. They may be the longest 5 minutes of my life, but the shop is totally worth it.

Got Cocci?

Coccidioidomycosis aka Valley Fever, California Fever, Desert Rheumatism, or San Joaquin Valley Fever is a fungal disease endemic to Arizona, California, Nevada, New Mexico, Texas, Utah, and northern Mexico. The fungus resides in the soil, it develops as a mold and breaks off into airborne spores when the ground is disturbed. Infection is caused by inhaling the particles. It is not transmitted from person to person. The infection however leaves the person with a specific immunity to re-infection. (why some archaeological company’s only hire crew who have had it.)

The spores can be easily inhaled without the person knowing. It arrives in the alveoli (the branches in your lungs) and then enlarge and internal septations develop. This structure is called spherule. The septations develop to form endospores. The spherules rupture and release the endospores. Nodules can form in the lungs surrounding these spherules. When they rupture, they release the endospores into the bronchus, forming thin-walled cavities. These cavities can result in symptoms like chest pain, hemoptysis (coughing up blood), and persistent cough.

Other more common symptoms include flu-like symptoms such as fever, cough, headache, rash, myalgia (muscle pain), and arthralgia (joint pain). Some people fail to recover and develop chronic pulmonary infection or widespread disseminated infection (affecting meninges [membranes that cover the nervous system], soft tissues, joints, and bone). Those with HIV can develop severe pulmonary disease.

The majority of people that have this, have had it since childhood. They don’t even know it. They get it as children and the parents see it as just another flu. This is especially true for those who were raised or live in the Central Valley of California, and those who have immigrated here legally or otherwise from Mexico.

Now that I have scared you to death, I have this lovely fungus among-us. I, along with several others were excavating in the deadly heatwave of the summer of 2006 just east of Bakersfield. I say deadly heatwave because some old people had died, and many a cows. I didn’t notice anything at the time. It takes a while to incubate, so to speak.

The following week we were to go up to the sierra’s to survey and record/update some sites, and a large sawmill site. The day we were to leave I woke up early with chest pains. I sat up and saw stars. I sat there and thought, “I’m having a heart attack”. I walked, slowly to my parents room and said, “I have chest pains, I think I’m having a heart attack.” They didn’t have the response I thought they’d have. My dad said, “are you dizzy, light headed?”, I said, “yes”. He said, “you probably have that bad flu thing with the inner ear thing. I had that last week.”

I turned around and went back to bed. “I guess I’m not having a heart attack”. I called the office and told them that I wasn’t feeling well and that I’d try and come out the following day. I drove out the next day, I still felt pretty bad. Still had the chest pains, and was getting weak. Day, three, started work with the crew out at the sawmill. I was tasked with documenting a trash deposit. I sat down on a tree stump and didn’t get up for two hours. I knew something was up. I was lethargic all that day and “out of it”. That night I got a fever. I still had the fever the next morning, and was even weaker. I walked out to the truck, and told my boss I now had a fever and said I should probably go home, so that I don’t infect everyone.

I rested up a bit, and then drove home. I didn’t leave my house for two weeks. I found out later that the day I left, the others started getting symptoms. In fact the day after, someone else went home. And by the end of the rotation, they were taking two hour naps under trees. After about 5 days or so, my chest pains went away. My other symptoms were fever, headache, cough, and muscle and joint weakness. I was out of work for about a month and it took about a year to get my lungs back to health. For many years, I had a hard time breathing at higher altitudes (above 7000 feet).

I never got tested. By the time everyone who got infected figured out what to test for, my symptoms were over. My boss got misdiagnosed with pneumonia and was eventually hospitalized for several days. She ended up taking anti-fungal medication for over a year to get rid of the spores in her lungs. She was out of work for over 4 months! Another comrade got chest x-rays taken and can see the scaring and nodules (looks like smokers lung). Another comrade had a cough for almost a year due to his complications with diabetes. We all inhaled the same spores but we all had a variety of different symptoms. I didn’t really know what Valley Fever was until we all came down with it.

For years after, I blamed my heavy breathing at high altitudes and when climbing/hiking up mountains on Valley Fever. And for awhile it was true. But now that I am in decent shape, I know that after the first couple years after infection, my heavy breathing was because I was out of shape. My lungs are now as strong as they ever were prior to infection. I still have nodules and probably scars, but they are healthy and strong now. The last time I was above 6000 feet, my lungs were fine, it was my legs that were sore. I had never fully recovered until now. Just like you can train your lungs to hold your breath for minutes, you can train them to better use oxygen. I figured they would recuperate on their own, and they did, but I had to train and exercise a lot to get them to be strong and function optimally.

So when I mentioned in my second post about Taft that some of my minions thought they had Valley Fever because they had heat rash, and I dismissed it? Now you know why I thought they were full of shit and overreacting. If your only symptom is a rash, count yourself lucky.

Steel Testicles

My house, Fuzzbucket, has for the past week, smelled like death. Why? Because we heard some rodents playing under our house and in our walls, and I had the genius idea of throwing rat poison under the house and sealing all the vents. It worked. Something had died. When the smell first appeared, I thought the little dog had peed again, and was getting quite mad at him. I was thinking, he’s peed so much now in the house that it has leaked through the floor into the sub floor and we can’t get rid of the smell now without ripping out the floor and replacing the urine soaked sub floor. It took about a day for me to realize that the smell I was smelling wasn’t urine at all. It was decomp.

We lit candles for a few days, but when my room started smelling up, I had had enough. It was time to suit up, grow a large pair of steel testicles and go under the house to find the dead things and remove them.

Here is me suited up. I’ve got my rain pants and rain jacket on, mittens with rubber gloves over them, bandana because we didn’t have any masks, hat to keep my hair back, and head lamp to see with. Also had a garbage bag for dead things and the hot pockets box to use as a scoop.

Luckily there was no standing water under the house. Usually during the winters there is a small pond under there. But there hasn’t been a whole lot of rain this year, and so it was just very wet and it is more like a freezing mud pit.

Fuzzbucket’s crawl space is quite small. You can’t crawl on your hands and knees. You have to scoot on your belly. It is only about a 1 foot 6 inches worth of height down there and gets smaller the farther you go.

I found the first dead rodent under the hall bathroom. It was a fuzzy grayish mouse. It stunk. Scooped it up with the hot pockets box and into the garbage bag. I continued the search, scooting, scooting, scooting. Found the next dead thing under the living room near where the fire place is. It was pretty gross. It was completely flattened, bones sticking out everywhere and as I scooped it up, realized it was also covered in maggots. Nasty ass mother f@%$&! Got it in the bag and twisted it up so the maggots wouldn't start creeping out.

By then I had about had it under there. I started the trek back up and continued to search for more dead things on the way. Didn’t see anymore. However, there is a nice collection of red plastic bowls down there, along with various nails, screws, and other unidentifiable things. The original plan was to get the dead things and also rewire the cable lines coming into my nephews rooms, but the cable lines are a complete mess down there, and I didn’t want to pull the maggot/rodent bag of death around anymore.

Sorry nephews, you will have to wait till summer, when it is dry down there.

There is so much moisture down there that the dirt is growing fuzz. Not green fuzz like moss, but it’s white hairy fuzz. It was kinda cool.

I was going to have an after picture of me as well, but I kinda had to undress while in the hole. But here are my clothes after coming out.

It has been two days now, since this adventure, and the house still smells! So we are still burning candles. Oh well. My sister thought I was very brave though. Those steel testicles are awesome.

me + Sierra National Forest

During my career as an archaeologist, I spent most of my time working in the Sierra National Forest. Not as famous or travelled as much as say, Tahoe National Forest or Sequoia National Forest. Still within the same mountain range, just doesn’t have destinations as famous as Yosemite. Still I loved getting to work there, Sierra National Forest, not Yosemite. I never got the chance to work there.

I will miss it. I got to see things like the inside of a working powerhouse, climb mountains off trail, discover bedrock mortars that had been undercover for decades. It’s where I learned how to drive 4 wheel drive.

It’s were I came across a pack of coyote/dog hybrids. Saw my first bear, mountain lion, and bob cat (however briefly - I swear I saw the little ear wispy thingies). It’s where my truck got attacked by a mule and got yelled at by an angry cowboy. It’s where I ran over a sapling and scared a co-worker to the point of her leaving the truck. She was in no danger of dying, I swear.

It’s where I impressed a biologist on my driving skills (two wheel drive truck on roads that required 4 wheel drive). In the process probably scaring the bejesus out of the guys in the truck behind me.

It’s where I met some incredible people such as an 80 year old forester in his second career who still ran marathons. A Mono Indian who was able to blend his Indian religious beliefs with Christianity in a way that made perfect sense.

It’s where I got to have my second helicopter ride, as scary as the landing was. I liked being able to drive forest roads that to everyone else were locked and off limits. I liked being able to see things like the bottom of Shaver Lake when it got drained for maintenance. Watching the sunset from Indian Rocks.

I got to see and experience things there, that I will miss. Perhaps this place and all I got to do there is what I will miss the most about leaving archaeology behind. I’ve always wanted to go back and show people how cool and amazing it all is. Of coarse it won’t be the same experience for them as it was for me, but then it shouldn’t. Every person experiences places and events differently.

I liked working there. I have many many memories. And amazingly, mostly good ones.

then do it anyway

Oh dear, watched Roadtrip Nation again. I talked about the show before here. This time it was 3 recent college graduates. And the quote that one of the people they interviewed that stuck with me this time was, “Commit... then figure it out”. His name is Jimmy Chin, who is a photographer and climber. He’s climbed Everest as an expedition photographer. After graduating college he lived out of the back of his Subaru for 7 years.

I’m not going to do that. It’s already been over 7 years since I graduated from Graduate school. But I like what he said. It’s what he did. He knew that he needed to climb and ski, so he did. Which led him to photography, and got photo’s published, which led to expeditions... etc. You can see his full interview here.

I like to think that I am doing the same. I have committed to opening my own business. I don’t have a job, I don’t have any money, I don’t have any business experience, never took a business class in all those years of college. I don’t have wealthy family members or friends. Neither of my college degrees have anything to do with the retail/restaurant business. I may fail, I may not. Whether or not I fail or succeed isn’t the point really. It’s what happens during the journey that is important.

It has taken a long time to get to the point where I am now in the whole process. And it isn’t very far... at least to me anyway. There is still a lot that needs to happen before this business can become a reality. It has taken almost a year now... just to write my business plan. That is dreadfully scary. I hope that the rest of the process before opening doesn’t take that long. But, I have learned quite a bit in that time. It wasn’t a waste of time, perhaps a bit mismanaged, but not wasted. I’ve learned how to write a business plan, create a menu, make financial projections, a bit about commercial real estate, types of loans, investors, etc. I’ve also met some pretty neat people who really want me to succeed. The people at the Chamber of Commerce, the Small Business Development Center, the Economic Development Center, the Welcome Center, the Downtown Association, and the City Planners and others at City Hall.

Everyone I have talked to has said it will be hard and difficult to do what I want to do. But they all have also given me advice and encouragement to keep going and do it. No one has said to me, “don’t do it” or “don’t even try”. At this point, I’m not sure I would even listen to someone with that kind of negativity.

It’s like the quote from the last time I wrote about Roadtrip Nation. “Feel the fear, and do it anyway.”

Why am I doing this again?

Act IV: Scene VI
Dec. 13th.
Queenstown day two

WOO to the friggin’ HOO!!!!!!!! It rained all night and then by morning it was sunny with some very big clouds. I met D. and D. outside at 9am and we walked into town to the place where we were to be picked up to do the Canyon Swing. Only in New Zealand would they think something like this up. I don’t think I can describe it in words without writing a book, so here it is in picture form. I will say, that the hardest part was taking the leap. After that, it was AMAZING! Enjoy!







After that, I came back to my room and ate, because I purposefully didn’t eat before. I then got picked up at 1:30pm for my “Lord of the Rings Tour”. That was interesting. Very beautiful. And I could imagine the scenes when the guide took us to places from the movie. However, the fan belt broke on the Land Rover. No cell service, and we were too far out for the radio to work. So he would drive about 5-10 minutes and then stop to cool the truck. Then drive 5-10 minutes. He finally got cell service and called in and was able to get another truck out to get us back to Queenstown. I was with a family from China, and so the gal would translate everything for the other three. That trip was just sort of… weird. I don’t know. I did get some cool pictures. But the highlight was definitely the Canyon Swing. We got together for dinner and ate at “The Cow”. We had pizza. It was good. The end. Heh. Tomorrow we leave for Milford Sound… back to the sand flies.

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And so I say again, it's been a while my friends

Just a pic of me hugging a huge marble, really it's marble... from about two years ago at Florence Lake, California.

It seems I say this every time…. It has been way too long since the last time I wrote. I keep thinking about it, but then I never do just sit down and write an update. A lot has happened since the last time. My sister and I bought a house together. And we are actually enjoying each other’s company. I never thought I would live with my sister and her two teenage sons, but I am happy being with them. There are a lot of “home improvement” projects, many are done, there are plenty more to do. I’m trying to build a bookcase; it’s not going so well. But I really want it, and well, what I want, I have to build myself because there is nothing like it out there. I fell in love with it when I saw it on TV. If anyone (and I know who you are) ever saw the show Moonlight last year (only one season) the main character, Mick, had the most awesome bookcase in his apartment. So I am trying to replicate it to fit my bedroom.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and that can be very dangerous. Actually it gives me anxiety attacks. (Thanks dad) The things I’ve been thinking about give me these lovely heart pounding, I don’t want to puke feelings because they are things I don’t have answers too, and I will never really know the answers ever, because well… the questions are open ended… and can have many answers or none at all. Why do I think such things in the first place?? I love torturing myself apparently. I’m going to keep thinking about them until I finally face them, really think about them, and answer them truthfully to the best of my knowledge, and where I am in my life right now.

On a brighter note, my 31st birthday was one of the best birthdays of my life… ever! I spent it with my family. And my two nephews, my sister’s boyfriend, and myself went indoor skydiving. One of the coolest experiences of my life. Don’t know what else to really say about it, but woo hoo! Here is their website: iflysfbay.com

Now, on with the archaeology. I’ve been working a lot in the foothills east of Fresno lately. That’s where I am right now, actually. In a hotel in Fresno. The only good thing about Fresno is that it has a lot of good restaurants, and that it is close to the beautiful foothills and Sierra Mountains. Other than that, there isn’t much to see here. We’ve been doing survey work and recording (documenting) sites near and under the transmission lines (power) that feed Los Angeles, on private property. It has been a… well… interesting experience. Being on private property automatically puts me out of my comfort zone. Our client (who we are working for) was supposed to notify the property owners that we would be on their lands. Well, that never happened. So since I am the project supervisor, I am the one who has to “talk” to these owners when they see us on their land. Several things have happened. 1. Owner comes up in big truck with big hunting dogs and loaded rifles. I about shit my pants. “Who are you and what are you doing?” I explain. Then he lightens up a bit… he thought we were illegally hunting on his property. He said he had caught hunters earlier in the day nearby. Then he said that there are 3 mountain lions nearby as well, a mother and 2 young adolescents. Oh wonderful. 2. Owner comes up on his horse, asks “who are you and what are you doing?’ I sense a theme. I explain… he is concerned that we stay only where we are suppose to stay… which is only in the “right-of-way” i.e. 300 feet on either side of the transmission lines. I say, no problem. 3. Property owner comes up in big truck; stares you down like he wants to kill you with his eyes. (I had a headache that day… turned into a three-day event). He was not happy, at all. He asked for proof of who we were. So I gave him phone numbers of our client. He calls them right then and there. He’s not happy. He doesn’t like our client, never did. He doesn’t like us, or what we do. He doesn’t want anyone on his property. He doesn’t want the Indian people to know about what is on his property. (He thinks, if they did know, that they would somehow get access – that’s not how it works, by the way). He thought we would “loot”. It was just all negative, negative, negative. Seriously, if he could kill with his eyes… geesh. I said, hey, if you want us to leave, we will. He finally said, well you’re almost done, you might as well finish. So the next day, we worked like a bee was up our ass, and got the hell out of Dodge! 4. Meet the leasers of the property and/or owners and they are chill, don’t care that we are there, or they are ecstatic and do whatever they can to help. I like these people. I’ve been having phone conversations with one in particular who is so ecstatic about what is on his property that, after we had finished with his property, he has gone back out and found more features and wants to send me pictures, and wants to know all about it. He’s pumping me for any information he can get. I’ll say again, I like these people. So this project has brought me tons of stress and I’m sure more grey hairs; it is the project that never seems to end; but also a lot of satisfaction and joy. I am learning a lot about the cultures that were here before the cattle ranching and citrus orchards. i.e. the Armenian immigrants and the Yokut Indians. This is the first time that I have worked on a project where we have found pictographs and mortars 35 centimeters in diameter and as deep as my entire arm. These sites are amazing.