Everyone calm the f*ck down, mmmkay?

In my last post, I discussed the random challenge we were faced with in receiving two competing job offers in one day. Well, given my overly-caffeinated inability to focus coupled with my mental and emotional exhaustion, I apparently didn't explain the situation particularly well.

Because of this, and the blowback I have received regarding our "decision", let me clarify a few things:

No, we don't hate living here. We just love Seattle and the plan was always to move back in a few years anyway. It's not a waving-the-white-flag situation, so keep your "I told you so" to yourself.

No, it would not have been "selling [our] soul" had we taken the Seattle offer. We knew it wasn't perfect, and that it would have been career-limiting, but it would have gotten us back up there (which was our only reason for considering it). Also, no, I don't make my decisions based on [this individual's] opinions. But thanks anyway.

Financially speaking, it would have been challenging and borderline irresponsible to move back. Moving 1200 miles is friggin' expensive! U-Haul, gas, food, hotels, and oh yeah, buying or renting a house; it adds up. Also, while we would have been able to sell our house quickly, we would not have even made back our down payment since we haven't lived here very long. All of that was a major 'con'.

While our heart may be in Seattle, sometimes you have to be a grown up and consider the responsible choice. Staying here and taking the local offer is the better career move, as well as the financially responsible move. Facts don't lie.

What I know everyone is thinking when
they say "I understand"...

Yes, I would rather live in Seattle than Wyoming. Duh.

Yes, I can be a Seattle girl even if I live 1200 miles away. I will always love Seattle. It's an amazing city filled with incredible art, culture, music, food, and people. And coffee. (God, I miss good coffee.) The climate and geography are amazing. The perpetual green is beautiful. The ferris wheel is... well, terrifying for me, on account of hating heights. But still. Living sandwiched between the ocean and the Cascades is where my soul is fed. Seattle is an incredibly special place.

Yes, I was looking forward to coming back. I had already made plans to spend my birthday up in Victoria with my childhood bestest friend, having high tea at the Empress (delicious!), roaming the cute little shops and bakeries, and hitting up a few of the 8,000 Irish pubs down by the harbor. I was going to kidnap other bestest friend, Ginger Jesus, and their kids for Thanksgiving. I was planning the annual Halloween party with my mom. I was invested in this.

And yes, I was heartbroken when it didn't work out.

But I truly believe everything happens for a reason, and apparently staying put is what we're meant to do for now. Hub's new company will provide him the valuable experience, marketable title, and global platform to grow his career in ways the Seattle job could never have. So while I miss my family and friends terribly, I understand that things worked out for the better. 

I'm sorry I let everyone down by dangling the carrot and then having to take it away. 

But we will be back. That much is guaranteed. 

And until then? We enjoy the journey and the experience. Next stop, Mt. Rushmore and Carhenge!

Like sands through the hourglass...

Yep, these are the days of our lives... The crazy, out of left field days of our lives.

So here's what's been going on. As you know, a little over a year ago, The Husband was offered an outstanding job opportunity here in Wyoming, resulting in our big move from the greater Seattle area to Cheyenne. However, after getting down here and getting settled, it quickly became clear that the job was not what we had been promised. In fact, The Husband had been bold-faced lied to about the job: its future, its duties, even its title.

Over the course of the past year, Hubs was put in charge of a project that was doomed from the start (when the management company includes a clause in their contract stating they do not have to finish the project if they don't want to, that should be a red flag, but Husband's company's CFO signed it anyway). Since then, they cycled through four different project managers (none of whom had previous PM experience), pushed back the project three separate times (it's now slated to go live a full year after its original date), and had the management company remove 80% of the original project items from scope. Husband was the only one at his company technically skilled enough to handle the demands of the project, and therefore more and more duties and responsibilities were dumped on his plate.

On top of that, continually more duties and responsibilities of his core job were piled on as well. It became the go-to to expect Hubs to 'handle it', even when the time constraints made it truly impossible to do so. As the expectations exponentially grew, so to did the lack of respect or appreciation (or even basic civility). Hubs became the fall guy for everyone else's issues (particularly when the Payroll Department didn't feel like doing their jobs). Hubs' manager did absolutely nothing to ease the situation, not even bothering to show up to meetings or update himself on the status of the project. All of the warnings Hubs gave regarding the quality, integrity, and success of the project were ignored, even when all of them came true. And still no willingness from Hubs' manager to give Hubs the job title, pay grade, or even public recognition and respect befitting his massive responsibilities.

Finally, the tinderbox erupted. It became clear that Hubs not only had no future growth within the company, but there was a chance he would be left holding the bag when the project inevitably failed and created a PR, logistical, and corporate nightmare. Hubs and I both reached out to our networks and pursued job opportunities for him, both here and back in Seattle. Some leads went nowhere. Others seemed promising but resulted in bupkis. After our hellish summer of family health crises and vehicular drama, we became all the more aware of our need for a reprieve. Mentally and emotionally, we both were exhausted, and put it out to the universe that hey, we need a break!

Well, be careful what you wish for, my lovelies, because apparently when it rains, it pours!

Last week, Husband received a call from a contact back in Seattle, offering him a job position. It wasn't an ideal position, but it would have afforded us the opportunity to get back to our home turf. Some negotiations still needed to take place, so we knew we had a few days before anything was final. However, we were given verbal confirmation on several occasions that yes, this was going to happen, without a doubt.

Well, yesterday we were supposed to have received the official job offer. By then, we had discussed the situation with our families and a few closest friends, and everyone was incredibly excited about the prospect of having us move back to Seattle. As we awaited the job offer, Hubs received another interesting phone call. A local job prospect that he had interviewed twice with and then didn't hear back from finally called. The president of the company wanted to interview him that afternoon! He went in, and 30 minutes later they offered him the job.

So, now we were facing two competing job offers: one that wasn't great but would have brought us back to Seattle, and one that would have kept us here in Cheyenne for the foreseeable future, but was an awesome career opportunity. It was a genuinely mind-boggling situation that we had never predicted having to face, and we were at a loss.

Cue the DEFCON 1 levels of stress.

Being the slightly OCD, anal-retentive, Type A person I am in a challenging situation, I proceeded to make in-depth pro-con lists. We then took the kids out to dinner, both to celebrate Hubs' new opportunities and imminent escape from his hellish job, as well as to inform the kids of the difficult decision we were facing and get their input.

(Oldest son wanted to go back to Seattle, daughter was good either way, and little guy was sad at leaving his best friend Percy Jackson...)

By the end of the evening, we had pretty much come to our decision, but were still awaiting the official job offer from Seattle. By this morning it still hadn't come, and we found out that the CFO and HR manager of that company had decided it would be more fiscally advantageous to stick with local candidates whom they could hire for much cheaper (because they notoriously pay below market whenever possible).

So that was that. The decision was made for us (though, in truth, it was the decision we were leaning toward anyway).

Hubs starts his new job the day after Labor Day, and it couldn't have come at a more perfect time!

Anniversary

One year ago today, we arrived here in Wyoming.

We had left Washington on the evening of July 6, 2013, and pulled into Cheyenne in the wee hours of July 9th.

Those first few days- hell, the first few hours, even- were a major struggle for me, as from the start, things did not go as planned and expected. I had just left a house that I loved, a town that I loved, and my family and closest friends, and was instantly regretting all of it. It honestly took me several weeks before I began reestablishing my grasp on why we had moved, and that it was in fact a good thing.

Those four months we lived in the apartment, waiting for our house to be finished, were tough. I physically hated living there, and the commute for my husband and children was brutal. After the house was done and we finally, officially moved up to Cheyenne, things began looking up.

The fluffy clouds of the High Plains

I loved our house, and the feeling of finally getting to be settled. I loved that the kids' school and Husband's work were now only minutes away instead of an hour. I loved that our lives were finally able to simplify, and we could begin establishing ourselves here.

Storm rolling in over the kids' school

There have been some hiccups, and some obstacles, and some what-the-hell-are-you-kidding-me moments. But overall, I can honestly say that I like living here (minus the wind, which is soul sucking).

But here's the thing.

Something that, despite my many attempts, I have been unable to successfully explain to many others in our lives.

On the one hand, I like it here. On the other hand, I would move back to Seattle tomorrow.

And yes, those two feelings can coexist.

While it was an emotional struggle for me at first, I fully understand why we moved here, and the benefits of doing so. I have adapted (mostly) to high plains living, and while there are some aspects of it I may not particularly care for, overall it's nice here.

Normal sunset views from my house!

I like exploring the area and seeing new things. The sunsets and sky-scapes are absolutely stunning. The slower pace of life and small-town feel is perfectly pleasant to me (except trying to get anywhere on Lincolnway anytime before 10 am, when the Blue Hair Brigade is out in force and going 20 mph below the speed limit!)

But here's the thing that people are having a hard time wrapping their heads around: I like it here, but I miss Seattle like crazy. It's not like living in Cheyenne is terrible, and I'm miserable and want out rightthissecond. I do, genuinely, like it here. But I don't love it here.

And that's the key.

Hello, gorgeous!

My heart and soul is in Seattle. In the trees and the mountains and the rivers and the ocean.

Mt. Pilchuck, my former backyard

Is anything better than a bonfire on the beach?!?

So beautiful, and so very missed

I don't know what the future holds. I don't know if we will stay in Cheyenne for five more months or five more years. But I do know that our time here is not permanent. Western Washington is a very special place, rich in a natural beauty that can't be matched. My soul is fed up there, and because of that, we will move back eventually.

It is possible to like where you are, but know you belong somewhere else. To be happy, but not fulfilled. That's where I'm at. And our calamity of a trip last week reaffirmed that to me. Driving across Snoqualmie Pass made my heart sing. And leaving made it sink.

I don't hate living in Wyoming, and I certainly don't regret moving here.

But home is where the heart is. And my heart is in Seattle

When things go sideways: The vacation from hell

Crow Creek, Curt Gowdy State Park, 5/30/14

Robert Frost once said that the road less traveled makes all the difference…

Well no offense to ol' Bob, but in this case, the difference made by the road less traveled wasn't fun. In fact, it plain old sucked!

My family and I went on vacation last week; a road trip up to Washington to visit family and friends. The week leading into our trip, we pretty much had our plans laid out. We knew what days we would be driving through which states; we knew which days we would be seeing specific friends and family members; we had everything arranged and had set our expectations accordingly.

And then life happened. Griswold Family style.

At first, the hiccups were minor. Friday morning we had planned to leave by noon, but my oldest son ended up with a horrendous nosebleed that took over an hour to stop. I sat with him in the bathroom, changing out the tissues and reassuring him that he wasn't bleeding to death (something that genuinely freaked him out, poor dude). So that prolonged the packing process, and we ended up leaving shortly after 1:00- not bad by any means!

We stopped for a quick lunch and then hopped on I-80 West, hoping to make it at least to Ogden, Utah, if not farther.

For the first leg of our drive, we ended up making excellent time, and by the time we hit Ogden (around 9:00 that night) we were feeling pretty pumped and decided to keep on going to Twin Falls, Idaho. We fed the kids a quick dinner and had them get ready for bed, that way when we finally stopped for the night, it would make bedtime much quicker and easier. We got back on the road, and about 30 minutes later, as we're cruising along nicely up I-84, chatting about how great the drive had been thus far and how we would be able to make it to Seattle a day earlier than we'd thought… BANG!!!

Husband and I both looked at each other in shock, and he pulled the Suburban and trailer over to the side of the freeway. The sound we'd heard made us both think we'd blown a tire, so we hopped out and starting checking for a flat.

Nothing.

All the tires on the Suburban and trailer were fine.

But smoke was pouring out of the engine compartment….

Husband popped the hood open, and we fanned the smoke away and used the flashlight on my phone to look inside.

Carnage.

Ruin.

Badness of epic proportions.

Now, I may not be an automotive expert… but my spidey senses told me that seeing big chunks of metal and oil sprayed everywhere inside the engine compartment is… not a good thing!

We immediately called State Farm, whom our insurance is through, because we have their roadside assistance coverage. After being rerouted multiple times, with no one bothering to make a note of our call and forcing us to start from scratch four different times, we were finally told that they could dispatch a tow truck for the Suburban and two passengers, but that we would have to call a taxi for the rest of us (I guess they wanted us to pick favorites?!?) and pay out of pocket for both the taxi and the separate tow for the trailer.

They also were "unable to locate" the MAJOR FREEWAY upon which we were stranded.

Um…. so how are you assisting me on the roadside then? When I have three young children stranded in a broken vehicle on the side of a very busy freeway late at night?!? And when I gave you my exact mile marker location, and the cities both north and south of me?!?

Needless to say, we quickly became utterly disgusted by their version of "roadside assistance". I also quickly learned that these claims of "agents available 24/7" is… complete BS. Though our agent's office voicemail said they were available 24 hours a day, she didn't call us back until regular business hours the following day.

This whole debacle is something we will be discussing in person with her this week; while we have been loyal State Farm customers for well over a decade, we will likely be looking for a new insurance company without some serious ass-kissing and reparations on our agent's part. Because damn.

So during Husband's third attempt to get any sort of useful help from State Farm, I went ahead and called AAA. The woman I spoke with was able to find our exact location, find and dispatch a tow truck that was big enough to tow both the Suburban and trailer AND all five of us (no picking favorites!), and she expedited it because of the obvious safety issue of us sitting on the side of the freeway.

Finally, a competent human being and a company that gave a crap!

We got towed the 10 minutes south to Brigham City, Utah to a Chevy dealership that the tow driver just happened to work at. We spent the night in the trailer in the dealership parking lot, listening to the service department's radio station being played through the outside speakers… not exactly conducive to a restful night, but at least we were safe.

The next day, we got the initial assessment on the Suburban's engine. We had blown at least three pistons, which had shattered the oil pan and caused other shrapnel-style damage. It would take at least a week to repair, at a starting cost of $7000…

Not only did we not have $7000 just sitting in our pockets, but that also didn't include the cost of a rental vehicle (something State Farm also wouldn't cover) to tow the trailer back to Cheyenne, and then the gas to drive all the way back to Brigham in a week to pick up our newly rebuilt Suburban.

We were completely screwed, and spent half the day just trying to wrap our heads around what the hell to do next.

(And I may have cried a lot. Like, a lot. Like, probably embarrassed myself in public but was too distraught and stressed to even care.)

While we were wandering around the parking lot of the dealership trying to get a handle on the situation, a salesman came out and said that he assumed we were over at the service department, but wondered if there was anything he could help us with. When we told him we were the Suburban, he gave us a look of pity I've never experienced before! We joked that we had a great trade in for him, with perhaps a bit of engine trouble…

The sales guy showed us their used trucks, and we found one we liked. It was a blue diesel GMC Sierra 2500 quad-cab. While I've never had the desire to own a truck, like, ever, it was beefy enough to tow our trailer and could handle anything Wyoming had to throw at it (no more getting stuck in snow drifts!)

The sales guy let us take it for a test drive, and Husband was pretty impressed with it. I wasn't quite as sold, as I was (and still am) fairly attached to my Suburban, and was quite honestly struggling to cope with the events of the previous 14 hours. After driving around Brigham for a bit, we went back to the dealership and Husband went inside to discuss the actual realistic-ness of trading in our dead Suburban for the truck.

In truth, I did not expect them to accept it, and knew we were wasting our time. The sales guy let us take the truck and go to lunch, and said he'd see what he would work out. I wasn't holding my breath.

As we were sitting there eating, not 20 minutes later, sales dude called back and said he'd worked it out!

He said that what they'd do is give us just under Kelly Blue Book on the trade, and put a used engine in the Suburban, making it plausible for them to sell it and make it worth their while. We lost all the equity we had built up in the Suburban, and would essentially be starting from scratch with the truck. But we were pretty much stuck at that point, and this was our best option.

He then told us what the payment on the truck would be, and my stomach flipped so hard I almost puked. We would be tripling our car payment.

Yes. Tripling. As in, three times as much. As in, ouchies to my budget.

After discussing it over the rest of our lunch, Husband and I decided to go for it, because it was the only way (and the cheapest way in the short run) to get us out of Utah. And this meant we could still continue with our vacation, which we had accepted was otherwise totally done-sies.

We got all the paperwork sorted, hooked up the trailer to the truck, and headed back on our way to Washington. Husband was immediately impressed with how well the truck pulled the trailer- no more bucketing in the wind or when being passed by other big vehicles, no struggling to go up even minor hills. It seemed like everything was back on track, and though I was still quite stressed over the looming loan payment, I was starting to shake it off and let Future Sarah deal with it.

We were about 15 miles past where we had broken down the night before, and suddenly the truck lost all power…

The fuel filter indicator, which had just read 100%, suddenly read 0%, and we weren't able to go over 30 mph. Husband immediately called the dealership, and the sales guy was stunned. He told us to come back and they'd take a look at it.

We slowly crawled back to the dealership, where they unhooked the trailer (again) and pulled the truck into the service bay. The same guy who had given us the tow the night before ended up being the one who swapped out our fuel filter (thanks again Juan!) After that, everything looked peachy keen, so Husband and the sales guy hooked the trailer back up (again) and took it for a test run, to make sure nothing bigger was wrong. They went up this steep hill behind the dealership, and everything was looking great until they got about 3/4 of the way up.

The truck lost power again.

Sales guy was baffled, since the dealership prides itself on selling quality used vehicles. He called the owners of the dealership to tell them what had happened, and the owners were there to meet them when they slowly crawled back into the parking lot. Several profuse apologies later (and a near stressed-induced cardiac event on my part), the owners presented us with two options.

Option A: they would do a straight swap of the blue truck for a red one. Same model, one year older, less miles, and one of the owners had just used it on his family vacation to Yellowstone, towing a similar trailer as ours, so they knew it was reliable.

Option B: borrow the red truck for the week and continue on our vacation, while they figured out what was wrong with the blue truck, fixed it up all pretty like, and had it waiting for us when we came back through the following weekend.

Husband and I discussed the options, and I was initially leaning toward doing the swap. However, while the interior of the red truck was nicer, it had fewer features and a little less interior space than the blue truck. It was also a short bed, as opposed to the long bed of the blue truck (something I didn't really care about, but it mattered to Husband). We finally decided to just borrow the red one and fix the blue one.

We unhooked and re-hooked the trailer (AGAIN) and were finally, finally on our way. We made it to Boise that night, and then after sitting in awful Sunday traffic on I-90 in Washington, finally made it to my mom's house Sunday night. A full day after we had been expecting, but at least we made it.

Of course, the unexpected delays associated with our Suburban's catastrophic engine failure shook up our entire week's visitation schedule, so we had to make some last minute adjustments. Some people were… displeased… with our limited time frames, but quite frankly, by that point I had no patience for it. We drove 1200 miles and went through two vehicles; I think you can handle driving 20 minutes to meet us for dinner and survive not eating exactly at your predetermined usual dinner time. Suffice it to say, we found out who some of our true friends are (and are not) this week!

We also got a call on Monday afternoon from the sales guy back in Utah, to tell us what they had found on the blue truck. The injector bank went out. Now, as stated above, I'm not exactly an automotive expert, so to me, that pretty much means nothing. They could have said the phalanges were broken for all I know!

Husband explained that, basically, what happened on the Suburban's gas engine is what happened on the truck's diesel engine (only less catastrophically so). The engine was kaput!

Because of course.

Because Utah hates us.

So they ended up replacing the injector bank (and the phalanges, probably), and we have a warranty on the engine so that we don't have to deal with this again any time soon (fingers crossed, knock on wood).

The rest of our vacation had a bit of a pall over it, though we tried to make the best of it, despite some friend drama and a few minor irritations (because seriously, I fought this hard to make this vacation even happen in the first place, but yeah, let's make it all about not inconveniencing you) and some serious homesickness for Western Washington and my boo-thang Kym.

We left Seattle Saturday morning, with the intention of getting all the way to Brigham that night so we could swap vehicles for our truck and get back on the road first thing Sunday. We only got as far as Mountain Home, Idaho, because it took us 7 hours to even get out of Washington.

7 hours!

I don't even know how that is possible. It was like all travel slowed to a crawl.

Sunday we made better time, and got to Brigham shortly after noon. However, as we were coming back down I-84, about 10 miles or so north of the exit for the dealership? THE RED TRUCK LOST POWER!!! Same effing thing that happened to the blue truck. In the exact same spot as where our Suburban blew.

I swear, Utah hates us. I mean, I know things happen in threes, but come on!

(We did see a lot of other truck and trailers pulled over on the freeway, also having issues, so maybe Utah just hates road-trippers in general?)

After swapping back to our blue truck, the rest of the drive home was relatively uneventful, though still wracked with stress. I spent the entire rest of the drive just waiting for something else to go wrong, because the precedent was set. Our truck has a few quirks on it that we need to get checked out, like weak air conditioning, engine fans that aren't terribly effective, and the door handles have some issues. Plus, it's not my Suburban, and I loved my Suburban.

So now, I have a massive loan payment on a truck that, at the moment, I loathe (though I'm sure my emotions have as much to do with that as the quirks and stress).

This week, we have the joy of dealing with digging out, both in terms of unpacking and settling back into being home, as well as dealing with the financial and logistical fallout of this week. Our insurance agent will be having a meeting with us, which will be non-fun for her. We need to refinance the truck through a local bank so we can get a better deal on the interest rate (and hopefully ease the burden on my budget). And I will be looking into new paid writing opportunities, since Yahoo decided to shut down its contributor side… meanie heads.

So that road less traveled?

I have a gypsy spirit, I'm all for the road less traveled. I mean, hell, I moved to Wyoming of all places, just to experience something new!

But when I'm on a road trip with a predetermined destination, and limited time frame and financial leeway? I'd like to stay on the intended road, and not have any mechanical issues along the way, thank you very much.

Best places to camp in southeast Wyoming

Here is my latest Yahoo! article. I haven't been published much lately on account of being ridiculously busy and otherwise losing my mind. However, I'm trying to get back into it, especially now that my final quarter is winding down soon.

Hope you enjoy!

Spring Break in Wyo: shooting ranges, Governors, and the threat of snow

What up blogosphere?!? I know my posts have been a little light as of late, but things have been insanely busy.

See? This guy gets it.

The last couple of weeks have been an utter whirlwind! Mostly in a good way, mind you. But still very whirly and windy.

First, I finished Winter Quarter. I don't feel like I finished as strong as I should have… but that's probably because I totally didn't finish as strong as I should have. My brain was done. I had all but completely checked out. I did what needed to be done, but in all honesty, not much more than that! I walked away with a 4.0 in psychology (I'm still trying to figure out how that happened), a 4.0 in sociology, and a measly 3.7 in Econ (and that's mostly because I totally crapped out on the last assignment, and I own that) (seriously, why make us do graphs for the first time in the final assignment?!?).

Next quarter I'm taking Intro to Communications (my final elective; I hope that's kinda like underwater basket weaving, minus the risk of drowning) and Management Strategy (the fancy name for my capstone, otherwise known has proving the culmination of your educational worth so they give you the degree). I'm not gonna lie, I'm a little nervous about that one. But only because there's like 18 different 10-page case study assignments to complete in a 10 week period… and I'm only mildly exaggerating. But I survived an over-full-time course load, I can handle a capstone right?…. Right?… RIGHT?!?!?

Sigh.

Anyway, while I was trying somewhat earnestly to finish my classes, I also complicated things for myself by flying back to Seattle to surprise my mom. My sister and I had been plotting for a few months to have me fly up for the Northwest Women's Show, which is something my mom and I (and occasionally my sister, when it didn't coincide with Comic Con) have attended every year for, oh, 13 years or so?

Suffice it to say, my mom was totally shocked and pleased with our diabolical little scheme, and we had a blast at the women's show!

The next day I had been planning on surprising my grandparents with a quick visit before jetting back out of town, but I decided to be responsible and finish my final Econ assignment instead. Call it kismet or luck or what have you, but had I decided to go up to Darrington, I would have been on Highway 530 the morning of the mudslide… that realization made me a bit queasy.

(For the latest on the mudslide, click here and here)

(And to donate to the Snohomish County Red Cross, click here)

Aside from my cancelled visit to my beloved grandpeople, I also had made lunch plans with my Soul Sista Kym. Unfortunately, her youngest daughter (otherwise known as BabyBaby) came down ill, so we had to cancel our lunch date.

So I didn't end up seeing anyone else besides my immediate family before I had to fly back, but it was still a great trip. And The Husband and I have a family road trip up there planned for this summer, so we'll get to see everyone then.

The Husband's perspective

My perspective

When I flew back to Wyo, I was joined by my sister (!!!) who took a week off of work to come down, visit for a bit, and see where the hell we left Western Washington for.

And I don't think she was… impressed with Cheyenne!

She's a bit of a hipster, so the non-ironic cowboy vibe of Southeastern Wyoming wasn't really her thing. But it was fun to have her here for a bit; we all miss her terribly!

One fun and random thing that happened while Katie was here was that my youngest wanted to take her to the Capitol Building. He's mildly obsessed with it; he thinks it is the single coolest building he's ever seen, and as such, he asks to go to it nearly every day. Having his Auntie Tatie here gave him a valid excuse for us to go!

As soon as we entered the main doorway, he took her hand and brought her to the President Lincoln memorial statue in the East Wing of the building. As we passed the main staircase and entered the East hallway, we walked past a very large man in a dark suit, and I noticed he had one of those coiled ear-pieces you see in the movies. I put two and two together, and I whispered to my sister that the Governor was probably in the building, since I'd never seen secret service-type dudes there before.

(And for the record, those dudes are pretty intimidating!)

Anyway, we got down to the Lincoln statue, and Monkey is telling his Auntie about how it's really cool because it's a big head, and it's gold, so it must be a superhero (natural assumption), when we hear a voice behind us say hello…

And then this happened…

We met Governor Mead!!!

Now, granted, I disagree with probably a good 80% of the man's politics… but it was still pretty awesome to meet him. I am able to separate different opinions on policy with a respect for the office itself; plus I'm a politics geek in general, so it made my day.

My older kids were super jealous that they missed out on account of that whole being-in-school thing, so I managed to arrange with (or possibly annoy!) Gov. Mead's staff for the kids to have a meeting with him later this week. I am having each of them prepare a question to ask him; they're both excited and I think a little nervous. I am somewhat of a politics wonk, so my children have grown to understand that this is a pretty cool opportunity for them. I'm sure there are more pictures to come!

Besides that, we explored the area a bit with my sister. We went up to Laramie one of the days; there is nothing in Laramie! We accidentally discovered Highway 287 from Laramie to Fort Collins, which was an absolutely beautiful drive… made all the better by jamming to kitschy '90s tunes (I told you, she's a hipster). We then spent the rest of that day dinking around Fort Collins, which I realized I actually really like (when I'm not stuck in a crappy apartment waiting for my house to be built!). Less cowboy, more hippie. My kind of place! Depending on where Hubs' career takes him, maybe we'll end up back down in that area at some point.

Some of the views along 287.
Red rocks, rolling hills, and jagged mountains
all in one 40 minute drive.

Katie flew home right as the kids' Spring Break started. We tried to pack in as much vacation revelry as one week (and Hubs' pesky work obligations) would allow. We went and saw the Lego Movie, which was ridiculously cute. We went out to eat a few times. We had the obligatory Harry Potter movie marathon, because it's just what we do. We went down to the Rocky Mountain Archery range in Fort Collins, where the kids (and us) learned how to shoot with a bow and arrow; it was very fun, but a little stressful trying to keep the 3-year-old from running out onto the shooting range when people were, you know, shooting very, very sharp arrows.

And we bought a travel trailer!!!

Jayco White Hawk

That's right, no more tent camping for me, bitches!

I'm actually totally cool with tent camping, but in this neck of the woods, there are many places that don't allow tents, either because of wind hazards, or because of, you know, the risk of being mauled by a bear. And weirdly enough, I prefer not being mauled by a bear. Crazy, huh?

But I digress. The whole buying a trailer thing happened sort of randomly. We've been looking for a little over a month, just trying to gauge amenities, prices, etc, but we weren't planning on actually purchasing one until next year. We figured since we just bought a house, a bank wouldn't then turn around and give us a loan on a trailer too. But then Hubs was at our bank running errands, he and the teller were making small talk, and Hubs asked if they did auto or RV loans (it's a credit union, and not all credit unions do that). He explained how we were planning on getting one next year, the teller explained how they had really good interest rates right now, one thing led to another, and bada bing, bada boom, we own a trailer!

We don't actually pick it up until Thursday, because the dealership is de-winterizing it, installing the equalizer, and doing their inspections and whatnot (they threw a bunch of technical jargon at us, Hubs understood it, I… just nodded). Then first thing Thursday morning, we are bringing our Suburban in to get the trailer brakes installed, and then we're good to go!

And yes, we are so going camping this weekend!

(I just hope they change Sunday's forecast, since right now it is calling for snow…)

Sigh. Welcome to Wyoming...

High Altitude Baking Tips

Here's an article I wrote discussing some tips for successful baking at altitude. As I discovered the hard way, baking at high elevations is… well, tricky. Things either get too fluffy, or not fluffy enough. Or both, oddly enough.

If only my breads came out as pretty as this!

Latest Yahoo! article

Here is an article I wrote a few months ago as part of a project for Yahoo! homes. I was actually beginning to lose hope about it being published, but apparently when they say "future project", they take it quite seriously. Anyway, here it is!

Valentine's Day date night in Cheyenne

Here's a Yahoo! article I wrote discussing some date ideas in the Cheyenne, Wyo. area.

The Frontier City has more than you'd expect!

Welcome to February in Wyoming?

Um.

Yeah.

This was what I woke up to this morning. And don't let the -22 fool you. With the windchill factor, it was actually -34!

Fracking winter quarter

I've decided that someone needs to invent a caffeine drip. Something convenient and non-invasive, for the gal on the go!

Because oy vey.

Winter quarter hasn't even started for me and I'm already exhausted.

Whoever thought taking three classes was a good idea needs to be kicked.

Oh wait, that was me?… Well my comment still stands.

So it worked out that none of my classes got cancelled, which was good, because it saved me from having to scramble and find two new electives and get the books ordered in under a week. However, because I held off ordering my books until I had confirmation on my classes, I still won't have any of my texts in time for Monday. The psych book is still backordered, and who knows how long that will take, and the other two said they shipped yesterday, but the tracking number was "undetected". Whatever that means.

Le sigh.

Almost done. That's what I keep telling myself whenever I start getting all bajiggety. Almost done with my degree. The end is nigh.

(Whether that "end" is my degree or my sanity, I'm still unsure)

Besides that, life is good. Well, mostly. We just recently found out that an oil company may be looking to drill on the lot across from us (nestled between three other occupied lots, mind you).

Clearly, I'm unimpressed with this.

Back in November, shortly after we had moved in, our contractor mentioned that they'd stopped building on the lot across from us. A "landman" representing EOG Resources (you know, Enron) showed up on sight, check in hand, and bought the forty acres.

Then nothing happened…

Turns out, they're in the process of going through the necessary channels to gain approval to drill out here.

And there's pretty much nothing we can do about it, 1) because they're not wanting to drill on our actual land, and 2) because we don't own any mineral rights anyway, so we have no say.

Wyoming (and I'm sure a few other states as well) have what is called "split estates". This means you buy a house, but you don't necessarily buy the ground underneath it. You only own the surface unless you negotiate a separate deal to purchase the mineral rights from whoever owns them, and ownership of those rights could go back as far as the 1860s!

If you own mineral rights, you have much more bargaining power, because the oil companies have to lease the minerals from you. Without mineral rights, landowners only have surface use agreements in their favor. But again, they're not drilling on our forty acres, so we basically have no recourse until they poison our well.

We're basically just along for the ride.

Granted, nothing has happened yet. Our HOA president is fighting tooth and nail with what (limited) power he has. I guess the mineral rights to this entire area are owned 51% by Burlington Northern, and 49% by one individual. And ironically, the railroad is actually the easier of the two to deal with!

So we'll see. And they may not end up drilling there at all (they're looking at a 30-square-mile area in total, so they could pick another spot). But if they do, you can bet we are going to be proactive about protecting and monitoring our water supply. And I will sue their pants off if they contaminate it.

And if they decide to frack instead of straight drilling? Oh you better believe they will become very familiar with my face over at the Capitol building!!! Time for this hippie mama to get her activism on!

Amen sista

We may not have a polar vortex, but it's cold here too!

Here is a Yahoo! article I wrote about the cold snap.

Vedauwoo, Ames Monument, and spontaneous roaming

No, that's not a sound you make when you sneeze.

Vedauwoo (pronounced vee-da-voo) is this huge group of granite outcroppings in the Medicine Bow National Forest, about 30 minutes west of Cheyenne. Vedauwoo was known to the Arapaho's as "Land of the Earthborn Spirit", and suffice it to say, it's a fitting name.

Since we're still very new to this area, and since I'm still fairly homesick for Washington, and especially since the holidays are (almost) over and we have more time now, we decided to start exploring our surroundings. You know, make attachments and memories and all that jazz. So yesterday we headed out to Vedauwoo to explore, since we've heard so much about it.

When we left our house, it was sunny and 40 degrees- brisk, but certainly tolerable. But the time we got up to Vedauwoo, however? 18 flippin' degrees. Luckily, we were all fairly well bundled, though we collectively wished we'd brought our gloves!

Here's me and my little guy taking refuge from the wind

Despite the fact that it was colder than a witch's ass up there, we hiked around for about 45 minutes or so. It's gorgeous up there, even in the dead of winter. The rocks are amazing, and I can certainly see why it's a climber's paradise.

Do you see the face!?

After exploring for awhile (and shortly before our fingers froze off), we got back in the blessed warmth of the car and followed the signs across the freeway to the Ames Monument. The monument is in honor of Oliver and Oakes Ames, who were instrumental in the first intercontinental railroad across America. It's basically this gigantic, 6-story, granite pyramid rising up out of the plains.

Ames was a fairly quick stop, because the wind had picked up and (as you can tell in the above pic) we were all curled up inside our jackets trying to stay warm! The monument is located in Curt Gowdy State Park, so once the weather warms up to a tolerable temperature, we're going to go back and find some hiking trails out there.

After Ames, we headed back to Cheyenne for dinner. This was our view…

The skies here are amazing, which makes the spontaneous exploring of our surroundings even more beautiful. Maybe this place will start feeling like home after all!

Christmas coma anyone?

Hey hey!

Happy Friday After Christmas!

I hope everyone's holiday was happy, safe, and blessed.

Mine was quite lovely. We didn't have the White Christmas I was hoping for, as the snow we got Christmas Eve morning was half-hearted at best, but it was wonderful nonetheless.

My house is still in post-Christmas shambles, but I'll work on it bit by bit. I refuse to feel any pressure, man. I'm just digging the vacation!

I've been done with fall quarter for almost a week now, and it's been absolutely divine. I always forget what it feels like to take a deep breath until school ends!

Of course, I'm already stressing over winter quarter and my increased class load, but I'm trying to ignore it for now and just enjoy my break. Plus, two of my three classes have low enrollment, so unless people start signing up fast, they may get cancelled, leaving me having to either scramble for two new electives, or delaying my graduation by a quarter. Which will… piss me off, to say the least.

But I'm letting Future Sarah deal with that!

Current Sarah has more important things to do!

Today's plan? Watch Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix with the kids, make paper beads with my daughter, and do a thorough post-Christmas vacuuming. I also have a couple of Yahoo! articles to work on.

I also intend to work on organizing the basement more, making a Goodwill run, and doing some general cleaning. But all that will happen in good time.

For now?

Baby, it's cold outside

So in case you missed it, a huge chunk of the U.S. has been hit by a vicious cold snap.

We're part of it too, though apparently the national news has forgotten that Wyoming exists. (Then again, I used to forget Wyoming existed too, you know, before I moved here!)

To sum up: it's freaking cold!!!

Like, record-breaking, shockingly, unusually cold. For instance, today is a "warm" day, it we're supposed to have a high of 6 degrees. Yes, 6. As in, well below freezing.

But hey, it least it isn't a high in the negatives, like it was the past couple of days…

Put on a couple extra layers and buck up!

We've also had The Husband's mother visiting us this past week, and she has let us know under no uncertain terms how cold it is. Apparently it would be warmer to live in the Arctic than in Wyoming…

With all the complaining she has done, you'd think she lived on some tropical island in the South Pacific, and not some place that actually gets more snow and just as cold of temperatures as we do here. It would figure that Mother Nature would decide to misbehave when my MIL is in town…

I'm sure some how this will end up being my fault! Because clearly I'm in control of the weather and use its power solely to inconvenience others...

Besides freezing our nubs off, things have also been incredibly busy. School has been a struggle for me this quarter, for some reason. My classes aren't necessarily particularly difficult, and I've actually enjoyed the subject matter, but since the move I feel like I'm just barely keeping up. And this coming week I have two papers due, two quizzes due, a fuller work load than normal… and my sister-in-law and brother-in-law are flying into town…

How I'm going to juggle it all, I don't know. I'm going to try and get one of the papers done this weekend and turn it in early, and beyond that, I may have to be fairly anti-social and sequester myself in the bedroom doing schoolwork. But we warned everyone that the kids and I would still have school when they were here visiting, so I guess it is what it is.

Today, though, I have festive plans! Since the past week has been so hectic, I'm behind on my decorating. I'm usually the one whose house looks like the North Pole puked in it the weekend after Thanksgiving, so the fact that my tree isn't even done yet?

Shameful!

So I'm going to finish my decorating today. I also have a crap ton of Christmas cookies to make.

(Yes, crap ton is an official form of measurement)

Then tonight, The Husband and I are going to a "traveling Christmas party" that his department is putting on. We'll be having appetizers at one person's house, the main meal at another's, and desert and gifts at a third. It sounds like fun, and I'm honestly looking forward to getting out of the house for a few hours.

We're also going to try and squeeze in some super secret Christmas shopping too, though I'm not sure if we'll have the time today.

Either way though, it's time to get my Christmas on!!!

Happy Birthday?

So…. My birthday is just days away.

The big 3-0.

I've got to be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about it.

Leading up until now, I was totally stoked. A new decade is always exciting, and maybe once I'm in my 30s I will start feeling like an actual grown up.

(Probably not. But it's a distant hope.)

But now that I'm standing on the precipice, I've become a little afraid of jumping.

I'm not sure why exactly. I'm not one of those girls who thinks it's all down hill after your 20s. I'm not yet worried about crow's feet or frown lines or what have you. I still feel young and vibrant (if not a little tired right now because life has been hectic).

I think my hesitation with 30 is that, for one, I feel like time is flying by at lightening speeds, and it's making me a little panicky. I don't want to miss anything. I don't want to look back and wonder where my life went. I want to experience and enjoy and appreciate where I'm at and what I'm doing. I want to live in the now with gratitude and an open heart, and sometimes I feel like time is going by too quickly to do that. And so the "holy crap I'm 30" concept is a little shocking in that manner.

Also, in keeping with the I-hope-I-feel-like-a-grown-up mentality, turning 30 has left me grappling with some, shall we say, "life choices". Apparently in your 30s is when you become fully aware and confident in who you are, and I feel like I have a pretty good grasp on that. But sometimes, being true to yourself leads to some uncomfortable encounters. And then that discomfort makes me second-guess myself. And then I feel like an uncertain kid again, instead of the rather fabulous almost-30-year-old that I am.

For one, as you know we just recently moved to Wyoming. Coming from the greater Seattle area, this has been quite a shock to the system! Recently, I've experienced some unpleasantness from a few of the local residents, and the only explanation I can come up with is my bumper stickers. They are, admittedly, fairly liberal. And the reactions I've received from some people? Alarming. I know who I am and I know what I believe in and why, and yet this unpleasantness has led me to question myself. Should I remove the bumper stickers? Should I try to blend in more in this extremely red state? Or should I face the discomfort and be myself, knowing that while it may make a few enemies, it will also allow me to make genuine friends, rather than friends with whom I cannot be myself.

Secondly, earlier this week I found myself in a really upsetting situation. Without getting too into the details, the basic gist is that I had to inform a close relative (the only one in this town) that I was uncomfortable with her on-off boyfriend coming over for Thanksgiving. There is a whole myriad of reasons, but it boils down to feeling uneasy with his unpredictable, unsavory, immature, and quite frankly, unsafe behavior. If you are incapable of being sober… ever… you're not welcome in my home and around my children. Especially after his most recent bout of asshole-itude. She may be willing to put up with it, but I'm not, nor do I have to. So a initiated the awkward conversation knowing that it would be uncomfortable, and possibly unpleasant. But I had no idea what it would turn into.

Suffice it to say, it was not pretty. There was no conversation, no discussion. She reacted instantly, and harshly. I was completely caught off guard. She said some incredibly awful things to me. She basically text-bombed me for almost three hours straight, taking every pot shot and low blow she could come up with, leaving me shaking and in tears. She then basically divorced me and my family.

All because I was honest with my feelings, and with what I was comfortable with in my home. Something I had every right to express. I was not mean, I did not call names or defame anyone's character (unlike her). I simply explained delicately, calmly, and rationally how I felt and why.

And apparently in her world, that means I'm incapable of love and an awful, heartless person.

Once again, I began questioning myself. Should I have said anything at all? Should I have kept my discomfort with her loser boyfriend to myself and just smiled and played nice, even if it meant ruining my Thanksgiving and exposing my children to potentially unpleasant or unsafe circumstances? Was I justified in expressing my feelings?

Having gained a little bit of time and clarity between now and the initial encounter, I do feel I did the right thing. I had to be true to myself, even though it produced an unexpected and unfortunate outcome. What kills me the most is that 1) I've been the one who's been there for her, supported her, rescued her, and stood up for her, and to have her forget that and turn on me so quickly stung, and 2) my children adore her, yet she is totally willing to write them off.

So, lesson learned.

Doing what is right for you is not always about doing what is easy. I guess this is all part and parcel of being a grown up?

Welcome to 30! Be prepared to know who you are. And to have people hate you for it.

Head colds and rocking chairs

I'm sick again.

I don't know what the deal is, but I've just been walloped the last few weeks with one illness after another. I assume my current levels of stress and lack of sleep probably have something to do with it. But if this is the way cold and flu season is stacking up, I'm totally screwed!

Clearly the next logical option...

Fall quarter is just around the corner for me, and I'm experiencing this weird combination of being excited and nauseatingly stressed about it. On the one hand, I'm the nerd that likes school and learning and challenging myself academically. On the other hand, I have enough going on right now that adding one more thing makes my brain hurt.

But I just need to keep plugging away at it. So close to being done, can't crap out now.

On the plus side, potty training has been going well. Monkey is managing to stay dry most of the time, and likes the reward of getting to pick out what color M&M he wants after a successful "go". Poops are still a solely-in-the-diaper thing, but I figure I'll address one battle at a time.

The end of the diaper era is nigh!

We went up to see the house this weekend. Seeing as how we live so far away right now, I'm not up in Cheyenne very often, and therefore hadn't seen the house in person in probably three weeks or so. It was very cool! The drywall is up, and most of the mudding and taping was done. The siding had also been started too. It looks so much more like an actual house now, rather than just some generic construction site, it was hard not to get all giddy about it. We're a month (ish) away from realizing our dream!

My favorite part of the house so far? As random as it sounds, it's the front porch.

It's huge! And it's just so pretty. And the way it is situated, it's almost totally blocked from the wind, so we'll actually be able to sit out there and enjoy it.

I'm very much looking forward to sitting on my giant porch in my cute little rocking chair with a cup o' tea and a good book. Because clearly I'm almost-30 going on almost-70...

Exactly

So I'm trying a new recipe tonight, and I'm a little concerned. It's the first meal that has sounded good to me in a few days. And that's the issue. See, when I'm sick, my tastes are usually pretty out of whack, so the fact that this recipe sounds really yummy to me makes me worried that it will actually taste like the feet of 18 dead frogs. (Nice visual, eh?)

We'll see. If it's yummy, I'll share it on here. If not, we'll just pretend we never had this conversation.