Summer Vacations: Kiawah and Grandpop

When I was younger a lot of our friends and family use to joke about the "summer sabbatical" that the Bakers would take come the end of swimming season. Usually the Saturday after the last meet we would strap on the trusty turtle car top carrier, load up the car with luggage, swim gear, beach house activities, and attach our bicycles and we were off on our month long trip to visit family.

Our visits consisted of a week at St Augustine beach in FL with my mom's family, a week in the smokey mountains, and a week at my grandparents house and then another week or two at Kiawah Island with my dad's side of the family. My grandparents owned a time share house walking (or biking) distance to the beach and we would rent another house from their friends down the street. Our beach time was filled with turtle hunts (trying to find baby turtle nests hatching at 6 AM not killing them), crabbing at the dock, and reading on the beach. And maybe a severe burn or two, although those were mainly mine. Our lunches were rolled down in coolers and we ate dinner in any dinning chair we could find back at the house. There was a pool fairly close and usually our parents would insist on giving us a week of tennis camp regardless of the fact that the rest of the 51 weeks in the year we never even looked at a racket. (Kristen was the shining exception to this rule). One summer I even managed to get surfing lessons instead and, before being promptly stung horribly by a jellyfish, managed to stand up on my ridiculously long foam board.

Relaxing on the dock

Everyone needs the Khaki and White T Look

Some of the best memories that I have of Kiawah are on our yearly boating trips. Grandpop was never a big fan of the beach (he loved those golf courses though) so every year he would take us out in a boat that we would rent for the day. Grandpop was always the captain. I remember him being a very big man with a very big presence but as he got older his gait was a little less steady. That gait changed when he was on the boat. As soon as he set foot on that boat, he had sea legs like no one else. All 6 of us grandkids managed to flounder our way onto a seat somewhere but that Big 6' 3" man would swing one leg over and start barking orders. (But to be fair to him he always barked orders.)

We would cruise around the marshes of Kiawah and St Johns Island. Fishing, crabiing, swimming, and freaking out about what touched our leg in the murkey water. Although usually it was just some scared fish and a slightly more threatening crab, one time my dad caught a shark. A small one maybe a foot long, but that was enough to convince me that I needed to stay dry and retain all 10 of my toes.Lunches were fought over and debated as to whom actually wanted the ham and mustard sandwich instead of the refreshing PB&J. We found islands to explore and felt the wind go through our hair as Grandpop manned the wheel.

Some of the best times were when we would each get a chance to be captain. Grandpop would call us up to stand in front of the captain's char and would let us steer. His arms would wrap around us to lay one hand on the throttle and the other on the console on the other side. Many times his time worn hands would cover ours to safely navigate canals or to ensure that we didn't capsize. This day out was his day with family. He didn't enjoy the beach like we did so he gave us a day with him. A day to explore like we couldn't on land. To say, even though he didn't frequently say them out loud, that he loved us.

It has been a while since I have been to Kiawah. I try to make it there every other year but sometimes work prevents me. This year I get to go back the week of June 10th. I can't wait to be there, to take a break from work, to relax in the sun, to read something other than CPA exam material, and to enjoy the beach. Maybe this year we can take a boat out and remember the man who made one day in a sea of days seem special every year.

When I was 16 I got his old car. He was telling me drive
safe and to not get into an accident cause then he would kill
me himself. One of the few times I heard him say "I love you " first.

View from the Dock at Sunset

Sister Trips

My mom and her sisters had a wonderful tradition when I was younger. Every year they would meet up for a week, sometimes in a brand new city and sometimes down in Atlanta, and have a sister trip. It was a great trip that they got to spend time together as adults without the responsibility of taking care of kids and husbands. For a week they got to be just sisters.

Unfortunately for those not in the rankings of sister this equated to being taken care of by Dad for an extended period of time. Some of the funnier baker stories have come out of these times. My father is an amazing dad and I constantly feel blessed to have his guidance and love. But I also freely admit that he could never take the place of Mom. I know this due to experience. Many times while I was living at home and mom was gone we would get chicken broth soup for dinner. That’s right. Broth soup. Hot flavored water. One time dad got so adventurous as to try and make us quiche disregarding the fact that Kristen is a picky eater, I didn't like eggs, and none of the four Baker kids had ever had quiche before.

Those weeks of momlessness were filled with stress of food and carpool duty. After a while we managed to get it down with a minimal amount of fuss. By the time I went off to college we had learned that Wawa and Dominoes pizza were our friends and that the kids had to keep track of each other because we couldn't leave Kristen at church AGAIN.

The best thing about sister trips is that Katie, Kristen and I got to have our own. After I graduate college and was momentarily unemployed, Katie was accepted into a study abroad program in Oxford, England. The fates conspired and had Katie ending her spring term right around the time I would be finishing my tour of the European continent and Kristen had spring break. It would have been wrong not to take advantage.

At Tower Bridge with our friend Mia

Katie at her Fave tea drinking spot in Oxford

Come that March we all met up in London and had a very confusing and fun couple of days before heading to Dublin, Ireland for St Patricks day. I can honestly say I have never had as much fun on any trip as I did with Katie and Kristen in those cities. I had to pay a price for that fun though, in the form of an all out row with Katie on the streets of Dublin at 2 AM.

On the Ha' Penny Bridge in Dublin Ireland, March 17, 2009

I should mention that Katie and I, if you don’t already know, are no where near peas in a pod. I am more of a berry on a bush and katie is a wildflower in a meadow. As far apart as you can be. This often results in fights as we learn how to communicate with each other and realize that what we were thinking is not what the other is thinking. Luckily we had a very patient and understanding youngest sister who knows us both so very well she could translate for us.

“Jessica, Katie isn’t suggesting that we go to Bath AND London AND Oxford AND Belfast. She is throwing out different options as she thinks of them. Katie won’t have made a decision until she is boarding the train for the next city”

Traveling is such hard work

“Katie, Jessie thinks that you have made a decision regarding where you want to go next. She could care less WHERE we go as long as she can plan it out so that we aren't sleeping under a bridge”

We ended up spending the next day roaming around Dunlougahary (P.S. I love you anyone?) and then heading back to Oxford. Which as it turns out regardless of multiple plans and counter itineraries  you can still get robbed.

My last sister trip was with Kristen after her semester Studying Abroad was over. Kristen, Grandmom, and I met up in London, showed Grandmom the sights (including seeing Les Mis for the first time) and then shipping her off home while Kristen and I hit up Barcelona (the only city between the two of us that we hadn't both visited and wanted to). I got to use my smattering of Spanish and we learned that the Spaniards don’t start partying until 2 AM. Well past either of our bed times.

This year my sister Katie will be going back to Oxford to be a graduate mentor to those in the program that she was a part of 4 years ago. Maybe this will be another opportunity for a sisterly trip. Or even better, we include John and make it a Baker kid trip.

Either way if someone I know is over seas (I am looking at you Ali) I will find a way over so that I can experience all the cultures that I can before settling down.

Tumblr down the Rabbit Hole

So last fall my wonderful friend Ali and I decided to do a half marathon. The problem is we didn't decide on a marathon until the end of this January. Which meant that I didn't have to start training until the end of this January. Luckily Ali knows me and sent me an easy schedule to follow and it has been a blast.

My schedule usually involves me going to the Gym after getting back to the hotel after a long day. After grabbing some dinner and studying (or getting sucked into TV) I head to the Gym. This usually resulted in me going at 10 PM or later. I needed to find a source of motivation to get my Butt to the gym. I had hoped to find it in Tumblr.

Tumblr, for those who don't know, is a social media site that allows what has come to be known as micro blogging.  Small snippets of information that then get shown on your homepage.I joined a while back but hadn't done anything much with it. I knew it to be place where pictures could be shown and searched for fairly easily. I figured finding inspiration on this site would be easy.

I hated how right I was. Within moments of searching for "Fit inspiration" on tumblr I got inundated with posts of extremely skinny girls with quotes and tags like "OMG look at her thigh gap. I want one." or "You can see her collarbone so clearly. #MyGoal". It's even worse if you look up thin. There are pictures of women who clearly have an eating disorder and these images are being passed around from one woman to girl to woman again as the ideal for what they want to look like. It's only slight better for those who want to be fit. Pictures of women whose hair and make up are perfect, who make doing pull ups easy, are barely sweating, oh yeah and on top of it all they just happen to do it in tiny running shorts and a sports bra.

Ummmm No. To all of this. This is unhealthy. Going to the gym isn't easy. You don't look fabulous, or you shouldn't at the end if you have been training right. It's hard work and at the end of the day most body types don't allow for a thigh gap (and really when did that become a thing?) or collar/hip bones that stand out. We should be focusing on showing people how to eat right and by golly if they want a chickfila chicken sandwich on a saturday then they should eat it. If they are tired and want a day to just relax then they should have it. And they shouldn't feel guilty for it. So many of these pictures and motivational pages have subtle message saying if you don't do it you won't meet your goal.

 Should people be fit? Of course they should. But that doesn't mean that they have to start bench pressing and doing squats. Being fit for one person may mean competing in muscle man type of things and for others it might be a walk or playing in the park with their kids and the new dog.

Because let me tell you something. I won't have a thigh gap, I won't have a collar bone that sticks out, I might not weigh 120 ever and I can gaurantee you that I will not be going perfectly coiffed to do my exercises ESPECIALLY if I am in what is essentially underwear. And you know what? I am 100% ok with it.

Kinder Gentler Jessie

When I was growing up I had a soft shell. Everything that even remotely could be considered a dig (even if it was playful ribbing) was taken as a insult or demeaning. It didn't help that in my small middle school there was a popular crowd and the very UNpopular crowd (you can guess which one I was in. Hint: not the first group). I wanted desperately to fit in and I couldn't manage it. I was (and still am) socially awkward  To protect myself against hurt I tried to create a tough outer shell and biting attitude. The attitude, ironically, only got worse around the people who loved me the most.

Luckily I have wonderful parents that understood what was going on. Instead of berating me for what I can only assume was an over reaction to everything, they would lovingly tell me "Kinder Gentler Jessie". I remember my parents telling me that they loved me for who I was and that they were sad that I was hiding behind a tough exterior. They showed me that although the world is tough and sometimes hurts that I didn't have to be like it. I could continue being who I was. Every time I was sharp and had a mean edge my parents would quietly say "Kinder Gentler Jessie".

This lesson still applies in my life today. Although I feel I grew up and let go of most of the hurt from the past, sometimes the actions I learned long ago still assert themselves. One particular Friday I was having a really rough day. Work wasn't going well, I was frustrated, and I didn't feel like the situation was going to be better. The fact that the weekend was hours away did not make this feeling any less. In fact, it felt worse because the week was over and I felt like nothing had been accomplished from Monday, that I had just been a spinning cog in a wheel. I was talking to a close friend of mine and was taking out my frustration and presenting a hard front which resulted in me needlessly harsh and judgemental. The response was quick "I don't think I like Friday Jess."

In a flash I was back in my kitchen hearing my mom's voice saying "You need to be a kinder and gentler Jessie". I apologized to my friend and tried to remember that I do not have to be a reflection of my situation.

Proves that sometimes a lesson is never fully learned

THON is not the only thing out there

For those of you who don't know THON is the common calling of the Pennsylvania State University's IFC/Panhellenic Dance Marathon. You can see why we use the nickname. Every year thousands of students work tirelessly to raise money for the awareness and support for kids who have cancer. It begins at the beginning of the school year when organizations start fundraising, canning, and raising awareness for pediatric cancer by asking for corporate sponsors and standing on the corners of streets asking for small donations. It culminates in the middle of February where members of these organizations and individuals who have raised a lot of money stand, dance, and sing for 46 hours straight and basically at the end all but cease to function.

This weekend is THON. As a PSU Alum and someone who has been a part of thon as a fundraiser, on the finance committee, on the OPP committee, and as a supporter in the crowd I can say that this is one amazing cause. But (and this is where other PSU Fanatics will burn me at the stake) it isn't the be all and end all of charity.

Frequently I was frowned upon in my organizations because I would only go canning once a year. I made no bones about the fact that while I thought it was a good cause I would rather donate my $10 than give up a weekend of studying (yes I did study Mom and Dad). I applaud those that gave a lot of time and money and effort into making THON what it is and it is truly a great thing, but it does not make you better than me. I had my own charities, I was in habitat for humanity freshman year, I served soup at homeless shelter, I donated towards breast cancer, and raised money for those who have Sarcoidosis. And don't even get me started on the reactions to those who didn't want to participate in THON at all.

I just want to remind everyone that any good put out there is FANTASTIC. You don't need to be a part of something huge to make a difference. But to those involved with THON this weekend I wish you all the luck and I can't wait to see what y'all have done this year. I know it will be awesome.

The Friendzone and My Perspective

You like a guy/girl and three things can happen:

1) They like you back! Congrats! Go forth into the world and clutter our facebook newsfeed with unnecessarily cute things.
2) Ew gross you have cooties. Console yourself with some Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Fudge. But don't worry, plenty of fish in the sea.
3) "Aww you're so great! Your like a sister/brother to me, I wish my significant other was more like you." Welcome to a special sort of Hell known as the friendzone.

I have had the unfortunate experience of being in the friendzone as well as having (regretfully) friendzoned some people in my earlier college days. It's a crappy crappy place to be and I know how much it can suck but let me tell you something. It isn't anyone's fault. To those zoned: Just because you are nice to him/her doesn't mean that you get a free pass into the sacred halls of dating them. Being nice is just a basic necessity of being human. Just because you are there to listen to their problems and give advice doesn't mean that you have a right to a date or two because listening and giving advice is what FRIENDS DO!

This also doesn't give free reign. To those doing the zoning: If you are asking your friend to go get you Stouffers mac and cheese at 2 AM from the 24 hour Walmart 45 minutes away because you just can't STAND Kraft, then sorry chicka (dude) you are taking advantage of your friend. You also can't treat them as an occasional hook up buddy. It's not fair to treat their affections as an emotional buffer. The best way to determine if you are taking advantage is to compare your actions with them to what you would do with another of your friends. If your best friend wouldn't do it then there is a good chance if they were acting only in friendship they wouldn't be doing it either. If you ask for these favors AND you are aware of their feelings then you need to evaluate your personal values and they should evaluate whether you are worth their affection.

In the end there is always a choice to be made: to stay friends with this person or to get some distance. If the decision to stay has been made then those zoned need to accept that they may only remain friends. I am not saying that one can not exit the friend zone and end up with the object of affection (my ex boyfriend was friend-zoned for a while before we dated) but the chances of it happening are slim. If the decision has been made in favor of distancing thmeselves then both parties need to let that happen. The emotional well being of your friend should take precedence of the need for the friendship.

Redefining the past

A lot of people I know want to go back to the "good ole days",whether it be bringing 90's nickelodeon back, bringing the 60's hippie culture back, or returning to the days where the press reported only facts. People are passionate about a time when life seemed simpler. There are Facebook groups dedicated to each of these ideals. In theory, this is a good thing but the practicality of it may not be.

The human race has a whole host of biases that go into each and every moment of the day. There are judgement biases, media bias, belief bias, social bias, the list goes on and on. One bias in particular is a memory bias called Rosy Retrospective. In this bias, the events of the past are seen favorably, meaning we forget the bad and embrace that which was good.

Recalling a memory accurately is harder to do as time passes, unless you relive that memory frequently. Each time a memory is relived you imprint that memory onto new cells (if I understand the science correctly, I might not... Medical journals go over my head) which are easier to "access" later. If you alter something in this memory and then recall that memory with the same alteration, the original memory will still be harder to recall. When we choose to remember the good and not the bad, we are making the good easier to remember. This is a mechanism of self preservation. If we remembered how hard it was in the past and all you see ahead of you is the same hardship would you continue on?

You can even have rosy retrospective about something you did not live. The best example of this is viewing kindly America's past. We look back at our founding fathers and say "that was a good time". We remember discovering a new land, the signing of the declaration of independence, we remember how we stood up and joined in WWII, we remember the 50's and the simplicity of life that was presented to us in our history books. We forget that to claim the "new land" we forced many people out of the homes, killed entire nations, and brought infectious disease. We often forget that when the founding fathers wrote the declaration of independence we owned slaves. We forget that we didn't join WWII until we were attacked at Pearl harbor and the war had been going on for years before we joined. We forget that in the 50's it was unthinkable for a woman who wanted to be a mom to also work outside the home and divorcees were shunned from "respectable" women.

The issues that we are discussing today are not any different than those in the past. We have come very far but we have a long way to go. Gun laws have been debated in the past and they will continue to be debated as long as they are used to kill and since that is the intention of the gun (whether for humans or animals) the issue of the gun laws will never go away. They may abate for a time but they will not be resolved. The issue of abortion will not go away. Until the entire world believes in one thing there will be abortions, legal or otherwise. Until everyone has a job unemployment, welfare, and any social assistance will be debated. They were debated in the past and they will be debated in the future.

The best that we can hope for is to look to the past honestly and determine where we went wrong and where we should go from there. This means removing the rose colored glasses, taking a cool sip of water, and being honest with ourselves as a collective. Then maybe once and for all we can admit that Clarissa Explains It All had horrible acting and that Ice Ice Baby is on par with Baby Baby Baby (oohh!!).