As I logged in to TypePad this morning, one of the blogs on the Recently Updated list was titled An Alaskan Abroad, which sounded interesting to me since I’m an Alaskan, too, although I’ve now lived outside the state longer than I lived in it.  I think that being born there gives me lifelong status, right?  An Alaskan Abroad has great photos of Alaska —

Adding this to my Online Reading list..

As completely happy as I am with my child-free life, I really love being an aunt.  My sister Wendy has done all of the hard work of being a parent, and now I get to do all kinds of fun things.  Morgan and Drew have mastered the fundamentals of polite society (chew with your mouth closed, don’t interrupt people who are talking, write thank you notes promptly — some of which I’m still working on) and are delightful people to spend time with.  This past weekend was Monarch High School’s Homecoming weekend.  Monarch’s football team remains undefeated with a blowout victory for Homecoming; but that’s not the fun part of the weekend for me. 

I got to be fun Aunty Amy and took Morgan and her friend, Mandy, to shop for dresses in September, and then took them to get manicures and pedicures on Thursday.  Wendy and I both took them to lunch and arranged for fancy hairdos the day of the dance.  Drew had decided he didn’t want to go to the dance, so I traded two young lovelies for him in the afternoon and we went to the mall for a movie and some shopping (needed shoes and a protective cover for his new Nano).  Drew and I decided to stop in and say hello at Red Robin where Morgan and Mandy and their dates were having dinner and they persuaded Drew to come to the dance after all, which I thought was very nice.  But this necessitated a head-to-toe wardrobe transformation for Drew — luckily we were already at a mall.  While the rest of the gang ate dinner, Drew and I dashed madly through Express for Men, where Jeff and Sabrina really entered into the spirit of the thing, even tying Drew’s tie since neither he nor I had any idea how to do that.  We bought shoes and socks and belt at Foleys, and a shiny new baseball cap to replace his aging North Carolina hat, and raced off to the parking lot.  We actually ran into Morgan and Mandy and Nick and Ryan and Carlos, who were loading into Nick’s dad’s car, so I took Carlos so everyone could ride with a seat belt.  I’m kind of a stickler for that.  Everyone got safely delivered to the high school and by all accounts had a grand time.  Here are some photos:

In the "there has got to be a better way of doing this" category of life experiences, renewing a drivers license must be high on the list.  I spent 90 minutes yesterday at the Department of Motor Vehicles in order to have them check my vision and have me affirm that I didn’t have any mental impairment that would keep me from driving safely (didn’t admit to my shoe fetish), take my right index fingerprint, and have me sign a piece of paper.  Of course, the clerk inadvertently had me sign the form for a Joshua Somebody, which luckily I noticed before I left, and we eventually got that all straightened out after I showed my passport to prove that I’m not Joshua Anybody.  The strange and quite annoying thing is that I still don’t have an actual current license since they now mail it to you instead of creating it on the premises.  Instead I have a large piece of paper that I’m supposed to keep in my wallet until my new one arrives.  A friend told me today that this is because of problems with DMV employees creating fake I.D.s to sell when the laminating machine was on the premises.  That’s not very comforting in these post-9/11 days of Patriot Acts and fingerprinting.

The fun part was when the DMV agent asked whether I wanted to keep my weight at the same number as my old license and I said yes, even though I weigh 15 pounds (okay, 20 pounds) more than the weight on my license.  Did I commit some kind of illegal act?  Fraud?  I answered the question truthfully:  I really DO want to keep my weight at the same number as my license, but haven’t been successful in my desire.  I wonder how many licenses accurately reflect the weight of their holder.  Does yours?

And what to say, really? 

It’s hard to find any words for this devastating hurricane.  I haven’t watched much of the t.v. coverage because it only makes me feel more overwhelmed and helpless and angry at the pathetic failure of our government relief system and the very worst of human nature.  From today’s New York Times front page:

Outside the Hyatt hotel next to the Superdome, scores of tour buses in ankle-deep water waited to evacuate people who had been living in and around the stadium. "It’s been hell," said Donnieka Rhinehart, 26, a nursing assistant who said she had lived in the stadium with her two small children since Monday. She said she saw a rape and heard that a girl’s throat had been cut.

Brad and I gave our donation to the Red Cross and the Humane Society.  You do what you can.  Anita Taylor from NewsGator who I met in Paris in April has gone to Houston to volunteer there. 

I think there will be plenty of finger pointing and enough blame to go around (twice), but don’t necessarily think that will change anything the next time a Category 4 hurricane comes around.  Watching a silly action movie yesterday that takes place in Miami and kept thinking how Miami would be devastated by 140 m.p.h. winds and remembering Hurricane Andrew which directly caused only 26 deaths.  Katrina is something else entirely, more like the tsunami on Boxing Day, which has caused over 300,000 deaths.

I  did think this comment by the person in charge of the military task force was especially egregious, even among so many egregious official statements. 

And a thought for the day:

No man is an Island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.   -John Donne, poet (1573-1631)

I love the first day of the month, and especially love September.  I think it’s my very favorite month of all.  It’s that back-to-school feeling.  I still think it’s time for new school supplies, new shoes, a new chance to not be the shortest kid in my class, (which didn’t happen until I got to college).  This always feels like the beginning of the year to me, not January in the midst of unchanging winter.  My birthday is this month, and lots of friends and family members have birthdays this month (Cecelia, Martha, Kent, Anita, Nancy, Katie, Jenny) and wedding anniversaries (Cheryl and Dean, Laura and Daniel, Sundee and Matt).  Lots of celebrations and gift giving and happy thoughts.

Happy September 1st..

It’s not quite 8:00 and I’m ready for bed.  I’m not adjusted to the pace of life here yet, and I’m tired.  I drove my car faster today than I’ve driven in more than two months and saw more traffic, and people, and buildings, and stores — and everything.  I’m having sensory overload.  My brain is over stimulated, like a kid eating Cocoa Puffs.  Things move much more quickly here than in Homer..

Finally managed to leave the sanctuary of our home this afternoon.  We drove to Broomfield to visit sister Wendy and her fiance Stacy, who are doing pretty well considering that Stacy starts his chemotherapy next week.  It was great to see them and have big hugs.  My nephew, Drew, has finally grown, which he has been waiting for since he was about 10.  My niece, Morgan, is taller than I am and a lovely 16 year old.  We watched some of the real life horror story that is New Orleans with them, and laughed together some about silly things, which was great.  Brad and I then went to CompUSA for iShuffle accessories, which is to Brad what the Neiman Marcus shoe department is to me.  We stopped by the Dairy Center for the Arts to try and see some our art which is on loan to them for a fun exhibit, but it was after 5:00 and the gallery was closed.  We could peep through the window and see the art sideways, but we’ll have to go back during art hours. 

Then we reached our real destination — sushi at Hapa on the Pearl Street mall.  There is sushi in Homer, but it’s a small sushi bar in the back of a too-authentic Alaskan bar, full of smoking drinkers.  The sushi is lovingly crafted by a single person, which makes things sloooow.  So, I am officially happy to have access to the multiple excellent sushi restaurants in Boulder.  Tonight was a classic Boulder evening with the temperature in the mid-70’s and the sky perfectly clear.  There are a lot of young, fit, attractive people here, all walking by in small tank tops and smaller shorts.  Delicious.  And the food is delicious, too.  We had new style sashimi with jalapenos and cilantro and spicy edamame and white tuna rolls.  I love Boulder!

I sat outside under an evergreen tree to eat my lunch of toasted hemp bread with garlicky hummus.  This bread is a tapestry of seeds.  You can just tell that it’s good for you.  The sun and the sounds of our cascading terraced water feature are so tranquil and restorative, and the dogs are playing with each other and running around hunting imaginary chipmunks under the rock borders of the flower beds.  I learn so much from them about being in the present moment.  Trying to be more like them.

I take only what I consider to be the bare necessities to Alaska, which is still a couple of generous toiletry bags full.  It’s a delight to come home to my vast array of bottles of things like exfoliating peppermint foot scrub, papaya masks, rosewater spray tonic, Lush bath bombs, five or six different nighttime eye creams, and a plethora of makeup.  I do pause to consider the reality that I haven’t needed any of these items for the past two months, and might not really need them at all; but that thought passes.  I have a very sensitive nose, and love good smelling smells and probably have 30 different perfumes, ranging from single note florals all the way to the complex and mysterious.  Maybe I’ll wear a different one every day for the next month.  I’ll choose the scent of the day, right after I wash off my green avocado moisturizing mask..