Pacific Islanders (Days 1-2)

Brooke and Mary decided to come to Seattle, I don't remember why. Probably because I've realized that I'm going to be here for a while with no big hoopla traveling plans and that I've got to keep the spirit alive while I'm working on that whole career and responsibility thing, so I've been recruiting. Brooke owes me a visit from 7 years of friendship and Mary flies for free. Boom. We've got a party.

The party begins on Orcas Island. Well, really the party began in the Anacortes ferry line, which lasted at good 4 hours longer than promised and allowed for a rush tour of the 3 street city's finest antique shops, dingy diners and ocean-themed street decor. Then, the hour and half long ferry through the glorious San Juan Islands. Is it just me or are Friday evening ferry's always full of gruffly handsome island-mountain men? Well worth the $40 price tag for car and passenger if only for the scenery.

Last time I was on Orcas was 6th grade outdoor ed camp. 150+ pre-teens in a week of October rain is a good recipe for flushed cheeks and lungs full of fresh air adventure. This time there are 7 of us onboard and the sun is shining, and I expect nothing less.

Friday night we defied all laws of camping and satisfied my month-long craving of real deal beer battered fish and chips; salty and perfect, right from the ocean. In the morning we hiked up to the big viewpoint with a clear 360° of the San Juan Islands and Victoria, Canada over yonder. Seriously, what kind of world is this where there are people who have to stare at deserts or buildings for their whole lives. Pure deprivation.

And then we got on a little yacht and rode around the islands.

Totally normal. An awesome girl in my ward just happened to be at sea with her dad so we loaded up and cruised through the surprisingly chilly air, unsuccessfully whale-watching, but loving every minute. I had spent the morning talking up the beauty to two Arizonans who believed that AZ's natural beauty could hold a candle to this. SERVED!

The rest of the evening was spent just us three girls at Deception Pass. How this gem has been unknown to me my whole NW life is a mystery to me. The bridge at sunset is a kind of green-gold that merited our three simultaneous gasps of surprise from my little Escort as we wheeled around the corner. We weren't the only ones impressed, dreamer yogi (right) loved it too!

Sunday on Whidbey Island day meant one mission: Find the town where Practical Magic was filmed. Apparently, they painted Coupeville's whole "downtown" in different shades of white to give it that idyllic, small-town feel. The colors are back to normal now, but it's still got some pretty quaint magic going on. Plus, the young Dimitri from the Knead and Feed who made my day with Strawberry Rhubarb pie and stealing my heart. If only the floppy haircut and bumbling sweetness only an innocent 17-year-old can genuinely smile could find its way into my ward, perhaps a decade older.

Another ferry at Keystone (almost didn't make it on/off this one at least 3 times) and voila! We're on the Peninsula!!

To be continued...

Pacific NW

I've been on a journey. It's a little hard to find the energy to whittle it down to a concise and enjoyably readable blog post, but I'm working on it. A teaser for you: our route

And some pics. More photos, stories and clever commentary to come.

aargh, I hate html

Fourth of July Festivities

I have to get this announcement off my chest. It has been plaguing me for weeks.

I RAN A 5K!!!

If you know me, you know that I hate running. With everything in me. But sometimes, a girl's got to do things she hates for the simple fact that it should be done. I promised myself I'd run at least one this summer and even though my jogging routine has all but gone out the window, I signed up for the Firecracker 5000, Midnight 5K. I might be a masochist for agreeing to almost all up-hill (how is that even possible) route around Seattle's most beloved landmark, the Space Needle, especially with my wimpy, toddler lung capacity and Heavyweights-like endurance, but I did it! At midnight! With a USA theme! And I didn't die! (The !!!s must come from that runner's high I've heard so much about)
I was going to do it alone, no lie, until I found out that some girls I know (runners themselves, the kind that run on purpose, fast) were signed up as well so we made a caravan of it. And by caravan I mean that we started at the time and I took twice their time to get back to the finish line. Great motivation to keep at it and get better!

I'm not sure what's going on with my body here, but I am excited it's over!

The celebration continued on the night of the fourth, this time with I think everyone from Seattle congregating at Gasworks Park. They played God Bless America during one of the fireworks sequences, which I'm thrilled about, considering the masses of atheists in attendance. Monica commented on my perma-smile throughout the show. I really do love fireworks. Twice a year is just not frequent enough to enjoy them.

Troy, on my right, I went out on a blind date with over 6 years ago. Oh what a world of run-ins!

The lovely Carrie and Catherine

Tangibly American

A mission companion once said to me of her travels, "living abroad makes one realize that there is something within that is tangibly American." I could not agree more. While the national anthem and patriotic movies do encourage a certain love of country, leaving the perimeters of this freedom, opportunity and God-given rights to which we pledge allegiance from the day we enter Kindergarten provides us with new eyes and a fresh understanding of just how lucky we are to call this country home.

Poverty, corruption and class separation surely make their mark within our borders, as well as abroad. There is something deeper, though, that I can't seem to articulate, something that rises to the surface upon exiting the country. I keep typing and deleting, trying to pin down what exactly that I mean, but I can't seem to get it right without sounding pompous and US-centric.

God created men to be free and America is a testament to the fact that it is possible. I have rights by breathing that I didn't have to fight for, that citizens of other countries don't even know are options.

Sure, my country has done ugly, nasty things in the history of the world; stealing, lying, oppressing for the sake of self. I love the quote by David Sedaris,

"Every day we're told that we live in the greatest country on earth. And it's always stated as an undeniable fact: Leos were born between July 23 and August 22, fitted queen-size sheets measure sixty by eighty inches, and America is the greatest country on earth. Having grown up with this in our ears, it's startling to realize that other countries have nationalistic slogans of their own, none of which are "We're number two!""

It's not a sense of superiority I feel, nor disdain for countries who don't mirror the understanding, but my country stands up and agrees with God that men should be free, and that is about the most blessed fact on my birth certificate.

I'm going to have to work on putting this into words that make a little more sense. But for now, I'm feeling proud to be an American, and extra grateful for the individuals I know and don't who have given themselves so that I could be.


And for muppets.

Complaints.

*I wrote this a week or two ago and forgot to publish it. I'm feeling a whole lot better now (easy to improve from this kind of state) and will be posting the proof of it shortly!

I'm cranky. And cold. Because my room has this weird stink right now so the window is open and even though it's July 3, it's only 50 degrees outside and I bet it rains again tomorrow. I'm annoyed that the only place where it's any kind of quiet is in my car and I can't be in there with the windows closed because it still reeks of gasoline from a tiny spill three weeks ago and the vanilla tree hanging from the mirror doesn't work for crap. My house is a disaster. The kitchen sink is clogged and it looks like diarrhea is coming up the pipe whenever I try to do anything to remedy the situation. I'm thinking of torching the whole house and starting from scratch. I'm sick of breaking out, breaking up and breaking earrings, which somehow never ceases to surprise me how often all three of these storm through. I can't believe my dryer takes 2 hours for a full dry with no mildew smell or that girls who I think of as 7th graders are married now with babies, which means they are having sex and I don't get to. I can't ever decide what to eat and that is not getting easier. I miss Thailand. A lot. Weather, food, people I love and the weird sense of humor I get when I speak Thai. I have angry feelings towards some people who are driving me crazy. It's rare that I hold a grudge for more than 5 minutes and I don't know how people do it for longer than that because it is exhausting! I'm praying for a get-over-it heart, a little humility, and a lot of patience. And a better mood.

Happy Solstice

Happy Summer Solstice! In Seattle, the longest day of the year means daylight for as long as you could want it, with twilight peeking in the late four o'clock hour, kicking into bright white by 5am, and fading into dusk approaching ten at night. It also signals a far scarier phenomenon slash freak show: The Seattle Solstice Parade!

The fun begins with a dream come true (or nightmare, if you're me) parade of Fremont locals on bicycles, totally naked. Naked. They're mostly painted head to toe with body paint, some with a costumey effect that looks like complete outfits, some with pathetic swirls and smears only pretending to cover their most delicate parts. While the shock of it all was fun AND exciting, this section of the excitement was longer than it needed to be, the hundreds of bicyclists making unnecessary laps along the parade route, bouncing and jiggling with every turn and shout.
The remainder of the parade is a caravan of Fremont crazies in their most homemade and celebratory costumes, dancing and cheering. There was no rhyme or reason to the 'floats' on display- most memorable to me were several sets of belly dancers, a group in red handing out free hugs and love and one group manning a paper mache volcano on wheels that periodically erupted a litter of stuffed kittens. (Pics at your own risk)
I'm traumatized. And so glad I'm female. But how fun!

Gainfully Employed

I have a job now! A great one in fact (don't be jealous). You can even email me at my dot o-r-g company email address. Please don't though, I have a lot of very important correspondence to deal with, or at least will once I go from the slow chug of training to actually being functional in my job responsibilities. Plus, I have this irrational fear that the IT department (guy) is somehow tracking all the times I (never) get off task. It's a paranoia surely left over from some necessarily strict computer lab rules in High School, but all for the best, I suppose, as I've got my to-do list for the evening, and snippets of this very blog scribbled on neon green post-its for a post-work update.

Rewind!

I dragged (drug?) my feet through the whole job search thing for a good month or more after I got back. I've got plenty to keep my busy even while unemployed around this (disaster of a) house. Ultimately, I finished phase one of garage clean-out (one garage sale and about twelve trips to Goodwill) and my Craigslist return from furniture and knick knack sales was dwindling so the hunt was on.

Round one of applications (minus the Gates Foundation, World Vision and Unitus who are unfortunately smart for not hiring me) yielded two interviews and basically two job offers, one where I'd get down and dirty in the business world, the other in nonprofit. If you know me and my philosophies on development, you know that both are pretty appealing. In the end, a higher salary and shorter commute lost out to my current title: Food Resource Developer.

Basically, I get food manufacturers (you know, farmers, fishermen, factories and the like) to donate their food products directly to us, and we distribute them out to 17 counties. Who knew such a job existed. Making sure the hungry people in the 300+ Food Banks in Western Washington don't have to live on just peanut butter and Ramen noodles. Produce, meat and pretty high quality stuff... most of the time at least.

More later on the work I'm doing but here, I'm sure the first of many stabs at helping people be aware of what hunger in America looks like today:
(cheesy elevator music and a bit boring in the middle, but good fast facts and a powerful message)

Knudson dynasty

It's official, the Knudson dynasty is ready to rule.

Exactly one year ago, the only Knudson family member living in the state of Washington was my oldest brother Brent. My parents were in Utah for the summer and the rest of us were out and about, living some version of our own lives. Since then, Brent got married and brought Mia into the fold, my parents are back in the house, Jake started a business up here so he and Kelsie and their munchkins are here, I graduated and moved back after traveling, Scott high-tailed it out of Florida after finishing his mission and finally, as of about a week ago, the set is complete. Brian and Heather, holed up in Princeton, NJ with their little ones and threatening to stay there forever, finally gave in and moved back west.

Yesterday was moving day for the Kwnudsons to their newhouse in Lynnwood/Mukilteo/Everett border area -an adorable house with almost the exact same layout as my childhood best friend's house. I didn't realize until yesterday how good I am at helping people move. It's so much easier when it isn't your own stuff. I've got the hangnails from all the carboard boxes to prove it!

I'm excited for these siblings to be here because Brian, of anyone in the family, thinks most like I do. The last time we were really in the same place was my Freshman year at BYU when I would treat him to weekly Dining Plus meals and he'd treat me in return by winning at our usually weekly tennis games. And, even though Heather has been in the family since I was in high school, I don't know her as well as I'd like. Plus, their kids are stinkin' cute.

After all the dirty work was done

Good day

I had the best day. Three potential job interviews, each of which with pretty different qualifications and responsibilities, all of which I kicked serious butt. I'm a pretty together lady, if you didn't know. I interview like a rockstar. Two pretty sure job offers, one for sure volunteer thing with a great organization I can learn a lot from. The wrapping up of some other personal junk- the kind that puts a smile on your face and the anthem 'I'm free' on my lips. Afternoon golf with my dad, and by that I mean driving the cart around most of the front nine, hitting about 5 good hits with a 7 iron and sucking it up with anything close to pitching or putting, but my dad is so cute! An evening walk and a little giggle time with the nieces. A killer set by New Directions on the season finale of Glee. A blue sky day with a rainy, breezy night. Couldn't ask for more!

John Mayer is a slimeball, but he really does get what it feels like

From this:

"half of my heart's got a right mind to tell you that half of my heart won't do" "made a plan stay the man who can only love himself"

To this:

"don't say a word, just come over and lie here with me..." "love is really nothing but a dream that keeps waking me" "silently screaming, I have to have you now"

And finally:

"nothing to do, nowhere to be, a simple little kind of free" "and this is not to say there never comes a day i'll take my chances and start again"

Or maybe all three at once, depending on the day!