I Wear Perfume to the Gun Range

My Mother always said, “Everyone has a gift.” I never really thought writing was my gift. I mean anyone can make a sentence. Turns out that I do have a skill I’m a pretty decent shot. We went to the outdoor range twice a few weekends ago. I loved it. I wore my bright pink tank top and adorable shorts and my Tevas. It was sunny, slight breeze, with the smell of hot lead being pumped down range.

Oh it was amazing.

Now here’s the thing… sometimes the range is iffy. Real gung-ho types and I’m not about that. I wanna go to the range and not get ogled I just want to send led down range, you know blow up some cans. I feel more comfortable with the old Alaskan types than the younger guys there. I wouldn’t ever go with out Jake, but, we have a great time when we go to the outdoor range.I love to go to the range. Even when I can’t shoot anymore I enjoy watching Jake shoot.

Alaskan girls are a different breed. We wear our plaid shirts un-ironically, we wear Carhartts, no one really cares here if you shave. In the middle of winter when its -40 and you live in a dry cabin seriously no one gives a shit. I adore this. I love this. One thing that we do however is wear our pretty necklaces and wear perfume to the range. I’m not the only girl to do this. I have seen quite a few women at the range and we smile and wave in camaraderie and I detect notes of perfume. (My favorite is: Very Irresistible by Givenchy)

It’s something that makes me grin. No matter how rough and tumble we are we still enjoy those something very girly. I love this place.

On that note I’m going to put the scope on my rifle. Range date today.


Our fridge is white. It’s not coming with us to Florida. It’s UAF’s fridge, but, we have made it ours. There are pictures on it, notes, bills to pay, spices on top in a spindle, there are mementos of a life lived together and apart. We have food to nourish our voracious appetite for good food and entertaining. It’s the photos on the fridge, not the schedule and to do lists, that show the life lived here. As we start to close out our life here, tallying what to sell the more I realize how I cling to photos.

Photographer and writer by trade and degree, this is what I have always wanted to do. I developed a love for photography early on in life. I used up what I had in nickles and dimes to get my film developed. Because I’m old enough to have had film cameras for more of my life than digital. I love capturing moments that will be put on a fridge somewhere. Happy moments with sad context, pure happiness, graduation announcements, all of it. I love all the stories being told and not being told in any given photo.

I love looking at photos of Jake and seeing his smile radiate through his eyes, also his very perfect white, straight teeth aren’t bad to look at either. I love seeing him in his uniform, seeing the pride. I love seeing my Mom and Dad so happy after 25 years together. I love all these pictures.

In my house everything happened in the kitchen. Good news, bad news, everything. That’s why I adore the kitchen so much. That and that’s where the cookies & ice cream is! I can’t wait to great new memories this summer to fill our fridge in Florida with good Alaskan Salmon and on the outside fill it with pictures of a life well lived.


I graduated. Finally did it. I DID IT! I’m so proud of myself for it. Now begins the hope that someone will hire me. I’m still unsure about what I want to do. I have no idea what I’m suppose to do, what I’m meant to do. Just do in general. Currently, I’d like to be on a beach somewhere.

I’d like to do something that involves the military. That’s been my whole life and I’d like to continue being apart of that community. I think I found a job in Tampa that I desperately want. It is a job at the Wounded Warrior Project. I found it accidentally while search online and I believe I have found the job. THE JOB that I could be amazing at.

I have this awful, awful, habit of getting down on myself. So job searching makes me break into tears something fierce. All I see is my beautiful college degree being utterly worthless. It can be horribly heartbreaking. (I cry a lot because I’m a big baby. Wine and chocolate helps job searching.) I love my degree and what I got my degree in. I think it’s valuable, just sometimes I get down on myself.

I applied for the job and I’m waiting to hear back. I’m also looking at other jobs. Not pinning all my hopes on this job. As much as I want it. Such is the life of job searching.

Back to cover letters.

Ybor City and I

It was Ybor City that changed my mind about going home. I loved the vibe of the place. The history, everything about it. It was Clearwater and the phone call from my Dad that our truck was broke. Really broke. Expensive broke. I turned to Jake and said, “Lets never go home. Let’s stay on this beach.”

We did go home. Just FYI, couldn’t stay on the beach.

There was a lot of time spent in Ybor. I adored looking at the old cigar factories. I could hear the stories. The cobblestone streets, the amount of things to do, everything about it. It was a failing and they turned it around to into something that is thriving.

The whole trip home we talked about is moving to Florida. No Birch trees, none of my big allergies. We talked about if we had found our new home. We threw around some places. Had to be close-ish to the university, cheaper side of things, can’t afford no $300,000 place. I’m also not opposed to working on a house. I want something that I could call my own.

His parents are possibly coming up here. We might go down there. It’s an interesting upcoming summer. Smoke has been flitting into town so my summer here is up in the air. I mean that literally. I can’t handle the forest fires, so, my summer is up in the air due to air particulates.  I’d love to have one more summer here. I adore this state. I wish I could stay.

So…Florida here we come.

I should start working out.

Rainy Days & Sunshine

“Where you going baby car?! I wanna follow you and find out what type of person drives you.” Jake shouted to a Smart Car. He has a strange obsession with Smart Cars.

This began our first day alone in Tampa. Little white car, Frozen playing on the radio, and a rain storm. Lets talk about a few things first:

  • Jake and I travel well together
  • A little rain means something different to people
  • Old Book Stores and wine help bad moods

Singing on our way to Tampa, getting passed by cars going 6 billion miles an hour. No big deal. We were having fun.

Parking in a big city is a nightmare. I though Anchorage was bad, GOOD HEAVENS, with the honking too, Tampa sucked. Till we found a nice parking garage. That’s when the wind picked up.

Oh did it pick up. Did you know that even the locals were calling it hurricane weather. Obviously, I had to go outside because there was lighting and thunder and I was giddy. wet stairs

We were downtown Tampa we weren’t seeing very many tourist spots, most everything was closed. I mean it seems Florida shuts down on Monday. After wandering around we found a very nice wine bar, whereupon we discovered the various rules of alcohol licensure. (apparently, it’s a separate license to sell wine, who knew?)

We walked around, again I should mention that it’s pouring, all I have on is a running jacket; we are soaked. We found the Photography Museum…closed, because it’s Monday. (disclosure: everything closes at 5pm as well.) Finally, as I was starting to get fed up and annoyed, we found coffee and an old book shop.

Jake and I are huge readers. We have more books than anything else in this world. We love the written word so walking into this shop was amazing. You could smell the old book smell. The dust, musty vanilla, hints of coffee, it was beautiful. So many books, not enough time to intake all the knowledge that is bound in leather covers.

A book store (and getting out of the rain) really puts me in a great mood. There isn’t much about a book store that doesn’t lift my spirits. I actually walked out with out a book, but, just being there was wonderful. Finally, we went towards home and the shopping center. Mama wanted more Victoria’s Secret!  (I should mention the clothes I brought on the trip didn’t fit at all so I HAD to get new ones.)

DSC_0031Dinner at home, a nice evening on the Florida Lanai with his parents telling stories was a fitting end to the day that was mired in rain and closed museums.



Things we learned:

Jake’s idea of a little rain isn’t a little. It’s a downpour. The more you know.



Bones, State of the Union and Afghanistan

I love the TV show Bones. I’m currently watching the show. The case is involves a victim of September 11th. Doesn’t matter what, anytime, 9/11 is mentioned in a show or a book, I still get chills. I remember watching the towers fall. I remember my Dad going into work. (We were military.) I remember being so scared, but, going to school anyways and telling everyone about it.

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Hawaii Blues

I miss Hawaii. I was there for a week last year and I’m quite sure everyone is quite done with me talking about it. Today we have freezing rain making the roads slick as shit. I’m debating making my house into a mini-Hawaii. Palm Trees, turning up the heat so I can wear my bikini. I miss the fresh smells of pineapple and the salt air. The stunning colors of the sunset and the flowers. It rivaled Alaskan summers. I adore both, but, I cant wait to live there one day.

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Let’s Not Be Dicks

Hurt. Devastation. destruction. This week has sucked. Between Texas tonight and Boston on Monday. It is just heart breaking. Humanity sucks. Humanity also is kind. During these moments of extreme sadness, there is healing in giving. The runners who ran to give blood, all the first responders who did their jobs.

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This is Cats

So I sit here on my own couch, with a glass of scotch, contemplating getting a cat. I’ve always been slightly terrified of commitment. I mean, let me back up a step. I’ve always been scared of things and people depending on me. It comes from a fear of not being enough. Not being there when needed the most, not being able to keep my commitments, again, not
being enough. It stems from my own insecurities.

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