Amy Lu's View

My smart phone is trying to kill me–and it’s not with 5G.

“My smart phone is trying to kill me–with tennis elbow.” Hmm, that sounds like a lyric from a punk country song. 

So now the disclaimers: My case of tennis elbow is actually very mild, and self-diagnosed. Everything I will write in this post will not be based on any professional medical or scientific knowledge but will be based on Googling and hyperbole employed for entertainment purposes.

After a couple of weeks of having mild pain in my elbow that started for no discernable reason, I finally did some Googling yesterday to see if I could learn more about it. I wanted to explore possible causes so I could also explore possible solutions. 

My pain was, and is, primarily just annoying. It’s really only noticeable when I try to lift a full pot of coffee, pull out a whisky bottle stopper, squeeze a tube of makeup, and brush my hair–things I do at least daily, but not hourly. But I was, and am, a little worried that the pain might get worse and eventually be a problem when I am drumming or playing the piano or flailing my arms in a frenzied muppet dance. 

I was a bit hesitant to Google about anything health related because, as we know, I might convince myself that I have prostate cancer or something. But the interwebs do seem to suggest that I have “tennis” elbow, even though I don’t think I have ever played tennis at any point in my lifetime, and definitely not in the last month. For not only is playing tennis the quintessential activity that leads to my elbow pain condition, so is texting and other mobile phone-based activities such as swiping. (Interestingly, cutting meat is also a traditional cause, but again, not an activity I’m engaged in). 

So should I call my condition “Cell phone elbow” instead of “Tennis elbow”? Well, that’s actually a little murky. There is word on the web of “cell phone elbow” but that phrase is actually used for “cubital tunnel syndrome”–which is more like carpal tunnel syndrome (which I have also flirted with). “Tennis elbow” is properly named “lateral epicondylitis.” And both can also be caused and aggravated by regular old computer and laptop use. 

Huh. Well, trying to moderate my cell phone use might not cure me, but I don’t think it will hurt me and might even be beneficial in areas of my life that have little to do with elbows. 

I don’t think of myself as an excessive cell phone user–I’ve never even been on TikTok or Tinder–but…BUT. 

Once I take a moment to think about my cell phone use, I can see that while it might not be excessive by the standards of a 21st century young person, it could definitely be enough to cause “tennis” elbow in a 21st century middle aged lady. (Although another surprising fact: Tennis elbow is most common between people ages 30-50! So I am too old for tennis elbow…does that mean I’m “young” for my age?!!). I DO use my phone frequently to text/Facebook message, browse Facebook and Instagram, and do a lot of internet shopping. 

So it might be a good idea to scale back these activities, especially since many of them can also be done on a laptop, which for now, at least, I’m going to hope is less elbow-problematic. And in use-cases where I can’t use a laptop–primarily when I am watching TV and have a kitty on my lap–it’s probably good for me to just focus on watching TV. Even if it is not terribly stimulating superhero TV–I should probably focus, or just start watching more engaging TV. 

And that may be the real benefit of trying to reduce my cell phone elbowprint–cutting down on my “multitasking.” Yes, I know that I’m not productive when I’m multitasking–no one is–but that’s primarily how I use my phone–to do something while I’m supposed to do something else, or when I’m between doing something else (as in walking from one room in my house with a computer to another room in my house with a computer). 

More distressing and challenging than attempting to dial back on using my smart phone (which I’m just going to throw out here is an Android, not an iPhone–sorry to be a hater but I am totally an iPhone/Apple hater) is also trying to cut down on latch hooking. 

Yes, I find latch hooking a totally worthy endeavor from every perspective–spiritual, emotional, moral, intellectual, social–but it seems like the repetitive motion it requires is questionable for elbow health. No, I can’t find any interwebs information to support or even address this–I guess the market of latch hookers with tennis elbow is too small–but it seems worth pursuing.

So, in summary: For the longish short term, less smart phone usage (unless I’m taking selfies). For the short, short term, less latch hook.

 Texting/messaging, shopping, social media usage, and most importantly blogging (oh yes, and “working”)  will continue on a laptop or chromebook, all with the goal of preserving uninhibited drumming, hair brushing, and booze access. 

Oh yes, and more focus…wait, what was I writing? I think I need a drink. 

Baking and enjoying holiday cookies is a beloved tradition for many people. I think this is lovely and wouldn’t want to diminish this joy for anyone, but I did not grow up in a home of baking, and the constant presence of and talk about sweets makes me twitchy. Without going into too much detail about my absurd thinking, “cookie talk” inspires an inner dialogue in me about my food and life choices that never ends up in a happy or healthy place.

But the Frog and Toad story, “The Cookie,” like all Frog and Toad stories, makes me happy. Yes, it’s about cookies, but also about willpower and friendship and priorities.

Recently, in the last month or so, I attended online training about making healthy changes. The instructor explained  that willpower is a limited resource and advised we should not needlessly tax it. We should control our environment and not force our future selves to make choices that might exhaust our willpower (in other words, don’t stock your house with chips and booze, AMY). 

At least, I THINK I attended this training. I even remember liking it–although this was not a new idea for me, it was presented in a helpful way, and clearly I need to hear this message again as I have not implemented it. But I can NOT recall the details of when or where or how I experienced this training. Am I gaslighting myself? Did I have some astonishingly specific and helpful (and boring, as far as reality misapprehensions go) dream or hallucination?  

At least my dilemma isn’t ironic, because it’s not training about improving my memory that I can’t fully recall. 

Whatever the source of this wisdom, it makes a great deal of sense to me that willpower isn’t a moral attribute but a valuable asset that should be carefully used. Why set ourselves up for failure by surrounding ourselves (me) with snacks and booze? Well, probably because I WANT and intend to fail, but also want to create the illusion that I want to succeed. 

Frog and Toad get it, as demonstrated in “The Cookie.” In this story, Frog and Toad go to greater and greater lengths NOT to eat up all of their cookies, which of course they end up doing because they really want to eat all the cookies.

While I like cookies, I can more or less demonstrate willpower around them… BUT, if the “The Cookie” was renamed “The Bourbon” it would be very accurate for Amy (but perhaps less marketable as a children’s story. But just imagine the possibilities for a reboot of the classic “If You Give a Mouse a Bourbon”!). 

I often think about what is more challenging for me…doing something that is hard but generally good for me–like running–or NOT doing something that is enjoyable but ill-advised–like drinking too much alcohol or eating too many processed snacks. 

I often get kudos for running, which I love, but perhaps I should get some more head shakes for my consumption choices? AND there are plenty of things I DON’T do that I think I should–weight training, yoga, meditation, paying attention to StanLee, practicing piano, reading the New York Times.

“The experts” seem to agree that motiviation is key, and that if you have positive motivation to do something–like “meditating will help me feel more relaxed”–you will have more success than if you are just trying to avoid negative consequences.

I think I have also read or heard (again can’t really remember) that willpower is like a muscle. So just like there are limits to our physical strength, there are limits to how much lifting our willpower can do. But if willpower is a muscle, we can do training and make it stronger. I believe we can do this, even though I haven’t had much success with literal strength training or developing my capacity for willpower. And by “haven’t had much success” I mean I haven’t actually tried on either counts, other than occasionally waving some dumbbells around, and trying not to drink a whole bottle of wine in one night. 

I definitely know I have heard/read that habits are extremely powerful in influencing our behavior. (Although I haven’t actually read it and only own a copy of it, I think the book “Atomic Habits” is one such source). Once something is a habit, whether “good” or “bad”–we’re much more likely to do it. So knowing that, we can intentionally try to establish the habits we want and break, or better yet, never form, the habits we don’t want. 

I feel pretty well-equipped with wisdom and insight to make positive behavioral changes and stop habits that I don’t think serve me well, but, just like Frog and Toad, I still have issues with willpower. Whether it’s more helpful to say my willpower muscle is not very strong, or my supply of willpower is not very big, I frequently do (okay, eat and drink) things I don’t think I should. I think at some level my real motivations and desires aren’t aligned with my conscious thinking.

But unlike me, Frog and Toad don’t fret about their lack of willpower too much. They are much more realistic about accepting themselves and each other, and know that their friendship is more important than how many cookies they eat. 

Now THAT is a wise and helpful perspective that I should try to remember to cultivate.

I had no idea that there is a patron saint of theater until recently (10 minutes ago, when I did some Googling).

It’s Saint Genesius, and apparently, our cast and crew of the recent production of “Uh-Oh, Here Comes Christmas” did something to piss him off. 

How else to explain all the trials and tribulations we experienced for our live streaming production? Not only did we have to cancel our Friday night show because of the first snowstorm of the season, but our Saturday night show was beset by technical problems that caused us to have to stop several times because we had no audio. Yes, two out of three shows were impacted by calamity–even I can do that math and know that sixty-six percent of our run was cursed. 

Okay, maybe I am being a little dramatic. Yes, it is more likely that weather and a faulty laptop soundcard caused our woes, rather than a moody magical being. But this is a post about theater, after all, so drama seems warranted. And given my limited understanding of meteorology, much less computer tech, I might as well blame something supernatural. 

And it’s hard not to take our misfortunates personally, especially when in the midst of having lost sound for the third or fourth time, one of the cameras (one out of two) died. 

From my perspective, our tech problems were more demoralizing than the snowstorm. Yes, it was disappointing to have to cancel because of weather, but not entirely surprising. And once we made the decision, we had plenty of time to notify ticket holders and then got to relax at home with an unsuspected night off. 

But our sound issues (simply put, we had no sound) were completely unexpected, we had no plan B, and we had to experience them in front of a live virtual audience. An audience who had to wait in suspense along with us to see if the show would be able to continue. 

Although I wasn’t sure at the time what they were or weren’t seeing, our audience members who were still tuned in could see us sitting and standing around in the midst of our audio crisis. Luckily, we all played it pretty cool and we didn’t make too many weird or angry facial expressions or gestures (although Chad did put his head in hands when the previously mentioned camera died). Hopefully, we mostly conveyed an air of Zen patience. Although, in retrospect, I think it might have been more entertaining if we had pretended to break out in a cast brawl or did some interpretive dance. Next time!

Our technical director, show director, and theater owner handled our sound tech crisis admirably. This was an issue (rather laptop or deity related) beyond their control and they were calm, gracious, knowledgeable, optimistic and resourceful as they valiantly tried different solutions. 

It was a very stressful situation for them, and also for the actors. At least for me, it was rather terrifying, and disheartening, and also, boring (at least when we were waiting for the sound to come back). When we were in the midst of performing, it was very hard to stay focused, with the dread that the sound could crash again, especially if we moved too much (apparently our back-up mic was easily overwhelmed). 

And of course, I couldn’t stop thinking about when we would get to go home so I could commence with my after-show eating and drinking extravaganza. There was a box of crackers and a bottle of bourbon calling my name. 

Also, it was hard to re-start our show after a pause–what the hell were we just doing? Is anybody still watching? Or is everyone who is still signed into our Zoom webinar just asleep or passed out in front of their computers?

I’m pretty good at staying in my lane and out of the way  and letting subject matter experts deal with a problem , but it was icky to feel so helpless and lacking control. There was absolutely nothing I could do to fix the problem. The best I could do was to keep quiet so as not to be annoying or distracting and to not to make matters worse by swearing at the exact moment the sound came back. 

It was a powerful, if painful, lesson in patience and letting go. Ultimately, deciding when to quit felt  like the hardest thing: How long could we expect any audience members to wait for us? How long could we all stay awake? When should we gracefully give up and call it? 

I’m sure none of my readers are surprised to learn that I was torn because “MY” big scene–”The Juggler”–was the very last scene. Yes, yes, yes, it is a beautiful scene that all the audience members deserved to see, BUT I really wanted to do it because this was my last chance (at least for this run) to perform in it. And I couldn’t stop thinking about the one or two friends who hadn’t seen me perform in a long time who I hoped were still logged on so they could catch me. 

It does feel meta that our script had frequent references to amateurs under pressure  encountering performance difficulties. Can we pretend that we planned our snafus in a brilliant piece of staging? 

Ultimately, I tried to quiet all my anxiety by channeling Willian Shatner. No, not by embracing my belly and donning a girdle (although that may come) but by focusing on the joy in getting to perform a beautiful work with my fellow cast mates and production team, even if there wasn’t any audience. (This lesson stems from an inspiring  talk we heard Captain Kirk give at a Con years ago about the joy of performing for its own sake). 

This was a beautiful theatrical work, and as much as I wanted to share it with an audience (and yes, bask in the literal and metaphorical spotlight) just getting to perform it at all, for anyone, even just myself, was a gift and a privilege. And I got to share it with my dear fellow cast members and crew who remained gracious and open and present and supprortive despite all our frustrations and fears. 

We did eventually (only 45ish minutes late) wrap up the show with a surprising number of folks still logged in. I am so grateful to all our audience members who watched any of our performance, and especially those who patiently waited for us to finish. We even received some kind words of appreciation and praise from some audience members. I was especially moved by the words of Tom.

The great thing about live theater (even when streamed on-line) is that it’s real. And sometimes real is not what we expect — which is one of the things I love about it.”

–Tom, wise audience member

Wow. Thanks, Tom, for reminding me of why we do theater, and that being real is more important than being perfect. 

I’m still wondering what we did to Saint Genesius, though. Perhaps he really loves–or hates–Spam?

“And I want to thank you, for giving me the best day of my life. Oh, just to be with you, is having the best day of my life.”

“Thank You” by Dido

I didn’t feel organized enough this year to observe 30 Days of Gratitude, but I would like to offer an Unnumbered Minutes of Gratitude list. I was partially inspired by and responding to the list I created for my 2014 gratitude post–I don’t feel the need to refute anything on my earlier list, but definitely want to reflect on things I am presently grateful for and have an updated list for the last year or so.

Are these the best days of my life? That seems a little grand, but, in the spirit on Dido’s song (which I did last week at online coffee house) maybe they are, as it’s enjoying the small things with those you love (even if “with” means via online channels) that makes are our days special.

I Want to Thank “You” for (not exhaustive or in order):

• Pants related happiness and comfort: The new pandemic jeans I successfully found online — bigger than my pre-pandemic jeans, and bling-free so safer for wearing for extended periods of time; my Harry Potter lounge pants that make me feel everything is right with the world, even though I don’t really play in the Harry Potter space; my new sherpa-lined joggers that are decadently soft and warm (and especially appreciated now that it’s too cold for my HP pants)
• Church storytime via Zoom: We do this every Sunday morning and today we got to do a special Thanksgiving edition (books about family, friends, and food–no Pilgrims!) I get to discover and share delightful children’s books and reconnect with my children’s librarian soul. Here’s my book list of books we’ve read so far: MSUS Storytime Books
• Not having to vacuum out the oven this Thanksgiving: I think everything needed for our soy-based roast (a Gardein holiday roast) will fit in the air fryer.
• Upgrade to our coffee situation: Now we have a subscription to Broadcast Coffee, a Seattle-based company that we discovered through our beloved podcast TBTL (We even walked by Broadcast Coffee when we were in Seattle, although we didn’t go in as it was closed for the day).
• Speaking of Seattle…OUR VACATION: We finally got to take our small boat cruise of the Salish Sea in the Northwest. I can’t possibly capture all my gratitude for this experience in a list but I have posted several blog posts trying to share some of the wonder…
• Tea! Just because I love coffee doesn’t mean I can’t also enjoy tea, especially to help warm up my hands during the day.
• Fall leaves: All the leaves are gone now, but the trees turned some really spectacular colors this year and seemed to stay around longer in the season, which was really an unexpected gift in light of this summer’s drought.
• Ted Lasso: Yes, we got on this bandwagon rather late but love this show even though it doesn’t feature any superheroes, aliens, witches, or anything sci-fi-ey (although we aren’t caught up with it yet so I guess it’s possible that Ted is an android?)
• Getting to see friends and loved ones in person! No, not everyone I hoped to or as often as I would have liked, but still a gift (or maybe more of a gift because it can’t be taken for granted?)
• Getting to eat at restaurants (and even getting to sit at a bar or two!): Again, not as often as I hoped for but better than not at all.
• Working at home permanently: It’s not for everyone, but it is definitely for me (at least at this point in the Amy timeline. Younger Amy may not have appreciated it but middle-aged Amy is living her best work life). I also recognize that many people would love to work from home and can’t so I feel especially grateful.
• Our Sunroom: Speaking of working from home…We’ve had our sunroom for at least 15 years, but I’ve really got to take full advantage of it since I’ve started working from home (and just being at home more in general). Hey, it turns out that watching birds is actually kind of interesting!

• Making theater in physical proximity with other people again: Yes, I get grumpy about having to wear masks at rehearsals (and having to put on real clothes and drive to rehearsal) but it is priceless to create theater with people without the filter of a screen. And I even got to perform in front of an audience again and hear their reactions and laughter (not just imagine they were out there somewhere, somehow). 
• Making music with other people again! Our band Pigeons From Hell has not only been able to rehearse regularly but we even got to play an outside gig in front of people (even if most of them seemed deeply disinterested).
• Chad’s original songs: Chad has been writing his own songs and I love getting to hear him work on them.
• Truffle (the fungus not the dessert) cheddar cheese from Imperfect Foods and sweet potato hummus (also from Imperfect): There are so many foods I could list, but these two delicacies were unexpected and may be transitory (I’m not sure how long Imperfect will stock them). 
• My smart phone (Pixel 4a) camera: Not only did my phone conveniently take great photos on our cruise (check out the sunset photos!) it also took great photos of my nature excursions close to home. Yes, there is a danger that I can spend too much time taking photos rather than actually experiencing whatever I’m documenting, but taking photos also encourages me to look at things with more wonder and in an effort to find beauty in unexpected places. AND my phone has a great portrait setting that allows me to take rather flattering selfies without feeling like I’m totally trying to deny the reality of how I look. 
• Latch hook: I’ve definitely blogged about this of late, but my rediscovered hobby of latch hooking has been such a grounding activity for me that it just doesn’t feel right NOT to give it another shout-out here. 
• Blogging: Yes, I just love blogging. It helps me feel reflective and accomplished and somewhat in control of the rush of time. And I’m extra thankful for anyone who makes the effort to read one of my posts. 

I wasn’t planning on having a unicorn-themed weekend, but it was a happy surprise. 

And I’m talking about “real” unicorns here–the magical mythical horse-like creatures, not tech start-ups (and definitely NOT the more “adult” definitions that I wasn’t aware of until I did a little googling). 

How was my weekend defined by unicorns?* I finished my latch hook unicorn pillow project yesterday AND my library hold on a unicorn ebook came in so I could read it at church storytime today. 

I’m going to elaborate on both these events (it wouldn’t be much of a blog post if I didn’t!)

My latch hook adventure was notable because it was a bit of a departure for me. I used a super cheap, as in low-quality–I think tacky goes without saying, kit that I got on sale months and months ago at Michael’s. I knew purchasing it was a risk, and I was right to be skeptical–the yarn quality was pretty sketchy. This led me to try and complete it with leftover yarn I had from other kits. This mostly worked, except I didn’t have enough of the blue background color so I’m framing the mixed yarn as a choice (“The different colors and texture of the yarn adds dimension!”)

I’m also more invested than usual in this “craft” project because I had to sew! Yes, I had to sew the pillow together and sew the latch hook on it (thank goodness by hand, no machinery necessary). Now, this is a kit that was purportedly made for kids so the whole sewing thing shouldn’t have been that challenging, even for me, but again, the overall cheapness of the materials and the design made producing a workable pillow quite frustrating. I can’t imagine an actual child dealing with it, or a poor parent. 

But, I did it! And, if you don’t look too closely (and who in the world would) you won’t see the janky sewing job and the mismatched yarn and the edges of the latch hook canvas. It looks good enough in photos on social media, and that of course is my standard of excellence. Even though it’s a small project (the latch hook is only 10 X 10) my pride in it is outsized. I persevered and I accomplished a goal intended for 6-8 year olds.

I think I’m going to have to keep it, though–if anyone looks at it too hard, not only will they notice all the flaws, it will probably fall apart. I just hope I can find a place to display it where StanLee won’t eat it.

And Unicorn Encounter #2? I was able to read “Not Quite Narwhal” at church storytime today. I must have requested this book weeks ago just because it seemed to have potential (finding appropriate eBooks for Zoom storytime can be challenging) and I was pleasantly surprised by how delightful it was. It lead me to other cute and colorful and charming unicorn books, and even though I only read one other today at storytime, I might work more in. (A cool aside, I ended up doing a really sweet book about a rhinoceros and the “Narwhal” book ends with a rhinoceros feeling kinship with other horned animals. Another thematic win!) 

I’m not a unicorn expert, but I certainly dig the whole pop culture unicorn aesthetic. Yes, I know it is stereotypically aimed at young girls, but I unabashedly love rainbows and glitter. (I’m vaguely aware there is a more sinister/badass side to unicorns but I’m not delving into that here). I don’t know if unicorns were a thing when I was a little girl, but as a teenager, I proudly and un-ironically had a unicorn and rainbow bedspread. 

I am a little embarrassed to admit that I had never heard of narwhals until sometime in the last ten years and I still have to stop and think “are those real or mythical?” when I hear or read about them (like I did in preparing to read “Not Quite Narwhal”). So my confusion about narwhals probably led me to state that unicorns are imaginary at storytime today. 

Luckily, Chad was there to set us all straight. Chad believes in unicorns (the mythical animals) and thanks to him, I do, too. And latch hook.

*I originally wrote “touched by unicorns” but I had to change THAT after what I learned through the Googles.

I failed spectacularly at preparing for our recent “Big Vacation,” at least when it came to having functional hiking boots. 

I can’t blame my poor performance on lack of time or knowledge. Chad and I had been planning our Salish Sea UnCruise vacation since Christmas 2019. I had plenty of time to prepare for our vacation. I had ample opportunity to procure the clothes and supplies I needed to vacation successfully. 

Yes, there were many times when I thought we would never ever be actually able to go on the vacation because of Covid–we were originally supposed to go in May 2020 to celebrate our 25th Anniversary and 50th birthdays and we rescheduled twice–but still, in the midst of time-consuming Covid-related anxiety and disappointment, I had time.

I discovered my potentially disastrous mistake on the day we were about to go on the Big Hike on Orcas Island. 

Every day we went on some type of hike, but his was was billed as one of the more demanding hikes of the trip. We were going to hike 2,409 foot-high Mount Constitution.  

But first, we would have a chance to look around the historic Moran Mansion. 

We got out of the skiff boat that we took from our Safari Quest to the pier, and I almost tripped. My tripping isn’t surprising in and of itself, but something was amiss. Something was hanging off of my right foot. I was making a flapping sound when I walked. 

I stopped. I looked at my boot. I realized the sole was coming off. 

I simultaneously experienced a panic attack and the grips of depression. What could I do? Okay, okay, I can make this work, I told myself. I’m resourceful, I’m determined, I’m tough. I am NOT missing this f$%cking hike. I had a plan, I need to follow the plan and prove that I’m a bad-ass hiker (at least by the standards of this trip), plus it is supposed to be beautiful and actually promises to burn some calories. 

I tried to hold my sole and boot together with a rubber hair tie. 

This lasted for about 2 minutes. 

Our island tour guide for the day, Bethany (who was amazing and worth a blog post just about her), encouraged me by saying something similar happened to her once and I could “Leave my  sole on the trail.”

Yeah, that was cute and funny and inspirational, but I was pretty sure trying to hike this trail with  non-intact footwear would be slippery and dangerous. So Bethany suggested I ask the mansion/resort staff for duct tape. 

I did, and the staff was super helpful and nice and gave me some duct tape, and Chad tried to tape up my boot, but it was soon clear that it was hopeless.

I feared all was lost, when our tour guide Daimar stopped by and we eventually realized that there was still time for one of the crew members to get back to our boat and grab my tennis shoes for the hike. Before long I had my tennis shoes and the hike commenced. (Yes, the hike was pretty, and rather challenging–it WOULD have been disastrous with one damaged boot– and cold and rainy, and I probably burned the caloric equivalent of a Manhattan and a glass of wine).

I was highly embarrassed by my misadventure, especially since it was all caused by my own bad decisions. Yes, I do usually love attention and often pride myself on not having shame when I do something uncool, but I don’t like attention for causing a situation that makes me sad AND inconveniences others.

I totally could have prevented this: My boots were over ten years old and had already hiked around Scotland–how did it not occur to me to check their condition before we went on our trip? Especially as Chad has just noticed that his boots–the same age as mine– were in bad shape right before we left and we spent time in Seattle making sure he had a new pair. 

I also felt guilty because my dissolving boot sole left a trail of debris in the mansion/resort that the kind and helpful staff had to clean up. 

Although cringe-inducing, I guess my boot debacle wasn’t that surprising. I have never been great at packing. I put a lot of thought into it, but I usually feel like I haven’t packed the right clothes–yes, I can get by, I’m not walking around naked, but what I bring with me is usually too casual or too dressy or not right for the weather. 

I actually did do somewhat better on this vacation. Hiking boots aside, I was 75 percent content with the clothing I packed. And I tried to have appropriate clothing, I really did. I was mostly stymied about having functional hiking pants that wouldn’t make me cry because of the havoc wearing them wrought on my self-esteem. I have never found a pair of hiking pants that don’t make me feel squishy in all the wrong ways. 

My main overall complaint is that I did not pack clothing that was warm enough. Yes, I knew that my primary vacation activity would be frolicking in the wet and cold Northwest so, again, I don’t have anyone but myself to blame. But oh, there were times I longed for gloves and a hat. 

But back to my boot story–it DID have a happy ending, and I’m so appreciative of the crew member who got my tennis shoes, and Daimar, and Bethany, and the resort staff, and my fellow passengers who good-naturedly teased me a bit.

And of course, to Chad, who valiantly tried to save the day with Duct Tape. 

Like many people, eating is a big part of my vacation experience. (Yes, eating is also a big part of my routine normal life experience, but the context is different). Eating new food and eating in new places, as well as eating familiar food in new places, is part of the fun of vacation. 

The flip side of that is deciding what and where to eat without going wild on calorie intake when presented with so many new choices can be pretty overwhelming. For me, the pressure to make THE best choice can make me grumpy and agitated, and I have to stop and remind myself “Hey, you are supposed to be ENJOYING yourself here!” 

Not only is having to make new decisions about eating hard for me, but feeling like I’m not totally in control of when and where and what I eat makes me twitchy. 

With all these ingredients in my head just waiting to be transformed into an agita souffle (see what I did there with the food references…), I’m grateful that I had good to awesome partaking experiences while on vacation. 

I especially appreciated the dining on the boat while un-cruising. All the meals and snacks were yummy, and there was always a vegetarian and fish option (I usually choose vegetarian but gave in to the siren call of seafood sometimes). Every morning at breakfast (there was a daily breakfast special but we could also have basically whatever we wanted) we got to “order” our meals for the rest of the day. Having my food choices all mapped out for me for the rest of the day was a great comfort to my over-planning (especially when it comes to food) soul. 

We even had our own unofficial special dining spot on the boat. Most meals, we ate at a breakfast bar in the lounge rather than in the dining room with everyone else. Yes, this habit did start from us being anti-social and not up to making conversation, but soon it became known as our spot. Maybe nobody else wanted to sit there but we especially liked it because it was close to the coffee. Most appealing, it was much quieter than the dining room so we could really appreciate that we weren’t chatting with each other. Okay, I may be playing up our standoffishness a bit–there was another table in the lounge and we did have other folks join us there occasionally, and we did sometimes sit with groups in the loungd, and we were quite friendly and charming. Really.

I even, more or less, successfully lived in the world without constantly snacking while on the boat. It felt a bit like chip rehab. Disappointingly, I have not been able to transfer this sensible approach to snacks (mostly chips and crackers) to life on the land. The other profound lesson I learned about eating while on the boat that I haven’t implemented in my daily life is that I can be very happy with eating smallish portions of real food (as opposed to large portions of “low calorie” food).  

We embraced the real, whole bread so enthusiastically that the ship’s pastry chef admiringly said that the two of us were in the top consumers of bread in the ship’s history. 

I ate dessert at every lunch and dinner. (That sounds like that could be on a plaque that Dr. Rick would make a Millenial throw away in a Progressive ad). 

In contrast to all my apprehension about vacation eating, I was confident that I could happily drink and I was not disappointed. The boat bar was small but well appointed. Every day at Happy Hour there was a new featured drink that I usually tried, in addition to any classic beverage I could hope for. They even had one of Chad’s favorite Scotches, Coal Ila.

There’s not too much more I can reasonably or effectively say about my intake of food and beverage while on vacation, so see the photo gallery above for some haphazardly shared and poorly captioned photos. I’m not an adept food photographer so some photos may look unappealing but I found all the dishes and drinks delicious. 

And I need to wrap this up to get some snacks.

I had the day off and I watched a movie at home via Amazon Prime all by myself!

This is an occasion of note (and blogging) for many reasons:

• I rarely operate our TV on my own (that’s Chad’s job)
• I/we rarely watch movies (we watch a lot of episodic TV shows) 
• I rarely watch a movie–or anything–without Chad, but he had to work today (he even was AT work) and while he would probably enjoy “Yesterday,” he’s okay with missing it.
• I did not do anything else while watching the movie. I was not using my phone in any way (this is monumental as I’m always on my phone–usually shopping or on social media– when we watch TV).
• I only had to stop the movie once for a bathroom/stretch/put the laundry in the dryer break. (I frequently stop our TV viewing because I get ansty with sitting)

This most magical movie I watched was 2019’s “Yesterday,” about Jack, an aspiring musician, who wakes up after an accident to a world where he is the only person who remembers the Beatles (and interestingly, also Coke). This has been on my “to-watch” list since it came out (as you can imagine, my “to-watch list is quite long since I rarely watch movies).  Also interesting to think about how he can recreate the music of the Beatles, but of course, one person can’t bring back Coke (or maybe he could have? Maybe that’s the sequel?)

I’m not an aspiring movie critic or blogger (I’m about as good as describing movies as I am food) so I’ll mostly just say I loved it. It was sweet and funny and romantic and thoroughly delighted this rather ardent Beatles/Paul McCartney fan. It inspired me to think about music and creativity and authenticity and success. 

I’m trying to restrain myself from geeking out and trying to prove my fan cred by sharing my Beatles knowledge–okay, okay, one piece: Paul’s original lyrics to “Yesterday” were “scrambled eggs.”

I’m also thinking about what Beatles songs, assuming I was a talented musician who could play and sing them, I would want to make certain to share with the world. And what lyrics would I be able to remember? Of course, you can’t go wrong with any (most?) Beatles songs, but I think I may have leaned more toward post 1966 music than Jack did.

“Yesterday” also gave me a new awareness of appreciation for Ed Sheeran. I had no idea he was in the movie, and had only a passing knowledge of him. He was super charming in “Yesterday,” so I’m now listening to him while I write this, and learning that yeah, okay, while I wouldn’t be opposed to having more Ed Sheeran in my life, I also don’t feel I’ve been missing out. 

I was also surprised to see the woman from Verizon commercials played our hero’s bitchy manager. When I saw the credits I eventually figured out/guessed that she, Kate McKinnon, is a famous comedian (on SNL? Yes, just confirmed via Google). #NotAwareOfMostCelebrities

Perhaps the most poignant and surreal moment in the movie was–Spoiler Alert–Seeing a peaceful and content 78-year-old John Lennon.

I also have a twitch of a craving now for scrambled eggs. 

“What’s your favorite Shakespeare play?” –audience question asked via chat after our livestreaming performance of “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged).”

“Um, whichever play is the shortest?”–me

I’m just not that into Shakespeare. I’ve been lucky enough to see many high quality and creative productions, and I’ve even been in some Shakespearean or Shakespeare-adjacent shows, but I just don’t get that excited by the Bard. (#ShortAttentionSpan)

But I DID get excited about being in Applause Community Theatre’s “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged).” I got excited and terrified and stressed and overwhelmed and joyful and sweaty and proud and thankful. 

This stew of emotions and sensations is pretty typical for me when I’m involved in a theatrical production, but the intensity may have been even higher because 1) this show involved Shakespeare and 2) it involved unknown tech (which I had nothing to do with and can take no credit for, but it was stressful not knowing if anyone would even be able to watch our show via Zoom. Thanks to Connor for making it happen!)

I was also terrified because this show was very physical and complicated, with lots of moving pieces and potential for things to go awry. Although I had generally short lines to deliver, they were interspersed throughout the show so I had lots of opportunities to say the wrong thing at the wrong time, AND to be at the wrong place with the wrong prop.

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“It’s not Shakespeare”–this is one of our typical Chamy acting mantras, meaning that if we screw up some lines it’s not like we’re blaspheming some of the most revered writings in the English language and/or no one is likely to know exactly what our lines are supposed to be. 

But this show WAS Shakespeare–or, at least required us to deliver some of Shakespeare’s actual words. And since I’m so ungrounded in Shakespeare I often wasn’t sure which lines of the play were actually from Shakespeare and which were just written to sound like Shakespeare. 

I DO know that the “What a piece of work is man” monologue that I got to say IS Shakespeare, from “Hamlet.” And it cracks me up because, to me, “What a piece of work is XXXX” is an insult, such as saying “What a piece of work is Amy” after I’ve done/said something particularly needy or vain. But in Hamlet’s monologue, he is genuinely saying “Wow, people are pretty freakin’ awesome”–and then goes on to say, “And I’m still depressed as f#$k.” It’s such a powerful monologue because Hamlet can intellectually see all this beauty and wonder in life but can’t actually feel it. 

Yeah, move over “No Fear Shakespeare”…I should launch “No S#%t Shakespeare.”

Yes, I could have done some research (or even a small amount of Googling) and learned about the source plays that our play was spoofing. And I did do some learning–in fact I just looked up one of my favorite lines in our play, “They [the audience] don’t know Shakespeare from Shinola.” Now, I was familiar with the original saying (“They don’t know s#$t from Shinola) but just learned that Shinola was shoe polish.

So I may not know much about Shakeaspeare (or shoe polish) but I do know that I am so lucky that I got to do live and mostly in-person theater again with awesome and supportive and talented and hardworking co-stars. And we’re so lucky that we had a small live audience/”extras” with us in the theater and that folks from near and far tuned in to watch us (even if they are so over Zoom). And we’re all so lucky for our brave and visionary and optimistic director, Gary, who made it all possible.

The more I think about it, I like the idea of people and plays and relationships as work–not just in the Hamlet sense that they’re amazing or the Amy sense that they’re annoying, but that we/they take effort and are constantly evolving.

I AM a piece of work, and so are you. I bet Shakespeare was, too.

When I played the game Risk with my brother as a kid, he would sing a little original tune when he moved his armies from one continent to another: “Oh we’re going on a boat, and we’re never coming back..” (YES, I’m still shocked by this, but I DID play a game as a kid…and a long and involved strategy game at that!). 

It was such a catchy little ditty that it’s remained in my head my whole life. So no surprise, that song popped into my head as we planned our vacation aboard a boat. But I was surprised to hear Chad sing the song as we were telling someone about our vacation! I guess the song has not only lived in my head–Chad’s been treated to me singing it throughout the years. 

So we did go on a boat, but unlike the imaginary Risk soldiers of my childhood, we DID come back. We had to come back so that I could blog about our trip.

The boat we went on was not a typical cruise ship. We sailed on the Safari Quest, a 120 feet long, 29 feet wide vessel. The boat had 11 cabins and could hold up to 22 passengers (I think we had 20 passengers, including us). We also had 10 crew members. To state the obvious, it was small. 

I’ve never been on any type of cruise before, but I’m pretty sure this expedition was very different. It may seem a little corny that the name of the company is “UnCruise” but I think they lived up to their moniker. According to the Google, the average cruise ship is 1,000 feet long (we saw some in Seattle and they looked immense). The small size of our ship impacted everything about the experience–and for us, positively.

People have asked some great questions about what the boat was like. Here are some photos to try and capture the details.

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(Okay, I would have liked to have had an actual workout room and not just an old exercise bike that was on the top deck and exposed to wind, but I could almost convince myself that I burned sufficient calories everyday through hiking). 

Because the Safari Quest was so small, we could visit Islands without a port and use a skiff boat to get to them. We also got to know every other passenger, which was awesome AND entertaining (hopefully more about that later). 

We also did feel the boat rocking to an extent that I don’t think passengers on cruise ships  typically do–just on one occasion, but one memorable occasion. Okay, again, I don’t have anything else to compare it to, but the motion was so significant that I don’t think I could have easily stood up without hanging on to something. Luckily, I wasn’t trying to stand up, I was just trying to lie in bed as it was 4:00 in the morning. Our awesome captain planned this. She could tell we had “Rough seas ahead” (a John Price original song performed by our band Pigeons that was looping in my head) so planned for us to brave them at 4:00 in the morning–when hopefully we would all be in bed (and at least not during dinner). 

I wasn’t worried about seasickness–Chad is the one with the history of motion sickness. But I was a little anxious during our early morning adventure. It wasn’t so bad in and of itself, but, me being me, I kept worrying that it might get worse and I might need to throw up. It was also impossible to sleep through. And yes, alcohol consumption might have been a factor. 

The Safari Quest was only our home for a week, but I don’t think I’ll ever completely forget it. I don’t think I’ll ever entirely come back.