Though I’ve done pretty good at writing something for my blog each week over the course of the past year, I didn’t update last week. Normally I’d have something ready, but things always go crazy when you’re preparing to travel.

For the second year in a row, I went north to visit my family and attend Anime St. Louis. While I’m not as into the convention scene as some of my friends, I do enjoy them on the whole. ASTL this year was my fourth convention, and while I much prefer the newer convention held in Memphis, the smaller con has its own charms. It’s easier to meet people in a smaller convention center, for one, and while I had to cut out early because of a very fussy baby who didn’t want to wear her costume any more, my brothers and sisters were able to meet up with several people they’d befriended at this particular convention in previous years.

Like last year, I attended the convention in costume. This year I was Erza Scarlet from the popular anime Fairy Tail, which is a series I actually have zero familiarity with. But my family was going as a group of characters from the series and they insisted on having me match, so I sewed the costume myself and off we went. I didn’t get many pictures of myself, but I have to say I feel like I really rocked the red wig. I’ve never dyed my hair before, but that shade of scarlet has me seriously considering giving it a shot. I’ve heard good things about Manic Panic, but then again, if I already have a red wig, do I really need to dye my hair?

There were other delightful things to do in the week, of course. Meeting up with friends I hadn’t seen in months was excellent, but time spent at my family’s country home was wonderful as well. While my siblings stayed at the convention on Saturday, I headed back home and had a great night with my parents and daughter. The spring weather was glorious, and since Dad made a special trip out to buy a swing for the baby, we spent a good deal of time outside. I often find myself missing the country, especially when the sun sets on the other side of the orchard and the first stars begin to peek out into the sky. Sometimes seeing the sun drop on the horizon stirs up an ache in my heart, a homesickness I don’t think I’ll ever be able to shake. I’ve written before about my fondness for the stars, so being able to see them at night is definitely something I miss, living in the city. That, and sunsets like this.

There was the small matter of the car, too.
When my eldest brother decided it was time to move out of country, Dad set his eyes on my brother’s car. It’s Dad’s car, now, which means I got to take it for a joy ride, and you know how I feel about nice cars.

It’s a unique one, too – A pearl white ’99 Mitsubishi 3000GT. While it’s sort of a shameful secret, I’ll admit I’m not the greatest with manuals. I’ve not driven them very often, maybe 3 short drives ever before the GT, but that didn’t dampen the enjoyment of the ride at all. Once I got a feeling for the clutch on this particular car, it was pretty smooth going, and with a sunroof, new Pioneer stereo and a cushy, near-perfect leather interior, it made for a pretty sweet drive. I still prefer my Mustang, of course, but there’s nothing wrong with enjoying an interesting (if different) sort of car. The feel is really different between the two, for lots of reasons. One being an import and the other American, one being manual and the other automatic, but I’m not the sort of driver who clings blindly to the familiar and comfortable. I say forget the rivalries between make and model. If it’s fun to drive, drive it. That’s what I did, and I can’t wait to go back and take it for another spin. Or two. Or three.

Though I had a great time, I didn’t actually do a lot while I was there. I didn’t take many pictures because it’s hard to wield a camera with a wiggly 16-month-old in one arm. I also didn’t get any writing done, since my laptop charger broke into several pieces as soon as I got up there. My current WIP is still teetering at 30 of 42 chapters edited, and since I’m still recovering from the actual travel, it might be a few weeks before I see the end of it. A part of me feels guilty for not making progress with work, but then I have to remind myself that the whole reason I went up there was for a brief vacation, so if I didn’t get any writing done, it’s not the end of the world.
If I don’t get any done this week, however…

Not so long ago, a friend of mine had the incredible opportunity to see the Elgin marbles at the museum in London. I was more than a little envious, lamenting how unlikely it is I’ll ever be able to travel and see the wonders of ancient architecture I love. Fortunately, not all is lost: Enter the Parthenon in Nashville.

Built in 1897 for the Tennessee Centennial Exposition, the Parthenon in Nashville is the only full-size replica of the Parthenon in the world.  Unlike the real thing, the Nashville Parthenon portrays the temple in its original state. In love with ruins as I am, I’d still like to see the real deal in Greece, but this is an amazing experience on its own!

I’m sad to say we arrived shortly after the Parthenon closed, so we didn’t get to see the inside. It’s a terrible shame, because aside from being an art museum, the Parthenon also contains a stunning statue of Athena, again replicated from what would have stood in Greece. Saying the building is huge doesn’t do it justice, nor does sharing pictures, bur keep in mind that the statue inside is 42 feet tall.

The exterior is stunning enough, with the pediments featuring sculptures cast in concrete. We didn’t pick the best day to go, as it was frigid and beginning to snow as I tried to snap pictures. On top of that, the baby was asleep and wearing my husband’s jacket, so I had to make it quick!

Stunning as they are, the sculptures have long been a point of contention between England and Greece. In 1806, while Greece was still part of the Ottoman Empire, the Earl of Elgin obtained permission to remove a number of surviving sculptures from the Parthenon, which is why they’re called the Elgin marbles now.  Not long after, in 1816, the collection was sold to the British Museum, where they remain, despite Greece’s pleas to have this precious part of their history returned to their country.

While I’d still like to travel to Greece someday, I’m grateful to have the opportunity to get a taste of other cultures and their history, not so far from home.
Do you know of any similar destinations? What are your favorites?

As rewarding as parenthood can be, it does make it harder to do some things. It’s tough enough to take a trip to the grocery store with a baby, never mind that vacation to Mexico we keep talking about. My mom has always been a fan of “staycations” where they enjoy local attractions instead of traveling. The great part about these day trips is that you get to fall into your own bed at the end of the day, but still participate in a little tourism. Last week, we decided to give it a try, taking an afternoon jaunt out to Nashville to see what could be found close to home. Our favorite stop, without a doubt, was the Gaylord Opryland Resort‎.

A little like an old Spanish villa and a lot like a tropical vacation, the Opryland hotel is the kind of place we could spend a whole day walking around. It’s open to the public with no cost if you just want to go for a stroll, which is a great idea for the blustery, icy kind of day we went to see it.

Yes, there was ice falling when we arrived, but you’d never know it from the pictures. The comfortable, if humid temperature is just as out of place as the carefully manicured tropical plantings inside. The largest non-casino hotel in the U.S., all the sprawling gardens and fountains and waterfalls are indoors. There’s even an artificial river with tour boats to ride, if that’s your sort of thing.  Shrek’s house is nestled in there, too, though the door was locked when we visited. Ogres need their privacy too, you know?

The plantings of palm and banana trees reminded me a lot of our time in Acapulco, though a little less secluded. The resort is also a convention center, and was bustling even though we visited in the middle of the week. We ate before visiting, but a number of restaurants inside the resort made us figure we’ll save our appetites before our next visit.

A hotel isn’t usually the sort of place you’d think to put on a tourism list, but it’s a spectacle, and since they were still in the process of removing Christmas lights from the trees in mid-March, I think a winter visit will be in the cards for us in the future.

I’m not a very adventurous person.
In fact, I’m pretty boring. I don’t like doing things I’ve never done before, yet I constantly find myself swallowed up by new experiences before I know they’re upon me.
Everything you do is new once, which is exciting to some, but not for me. There’s plenty of thing I’m content to live without experiencing.

Like sushi. My husband loved sushi and early in our marriage, he tried with all his might to get me to eat it with him. I remember looking at his plate and saying no, because with my luck, I’d get food poisoning. He laughed and said something about how you don’t get food poisoning from sushi, but who was laughing 12 hours later when we were in the ER because of salmonella? You’re right, not me. I’m too nice to laugh, but I did feel just a little bit vindicated.

This year, I’ve already found myself caught up in a wave of new experiences. Some of them are things I decided to try because I thought they would make me a better writer. A great example of that is eating venison for the first time. Deer seem like a staple food source in most fantasy settings, and since I mostly write fantasy, I wanted to be accurate.

I did learn from it, for the record. It wasn’t as tough or gamey as I expected and the flavor was pleasant, if more subtle and mild than I imagined it would be. The more valuable pieces of information came from cooking it, though. Such as the color of it when uncooked and the awful, stomach-turning sour stench of it being cooked. It’s a good thing venison tastes better than it smells while cooking, because that was terrible!

Other new experiences come in the form of new interests. You might not know it, but I was a total tomboy growing up. I liked cars and video games and hated pink. I still like cars and video games, but as I get farther into adulthood, I also find myself interested in girly things like jewelry and shoes. And yes, pink. This year marks the first time I’ve taken an interest in decorating and interior design, and some big projects going on around the house let me try my hand at it, too!  I’ve also found myself suddenly more fashion-savvy, wanting to dress nicer than just in torn jeans and video game shirts. Don’t get me wrong, those wardrobe staples aren’t going anywhere, but they are getting trimmed down to make room for future orders from sammydress. Just gonna say it, Asian fashion is soooo much nicer!

Anybody else trying something different this year?

There are two storage facilities within walking distance of our house. You know the kind, the ones with different sized bays. From the size of an extra closet to the size of an extra garage.  We’ve used such storage units before when doing major home renovation or moving cross-country. When we moved to North Carolina for my husband’s final duty station, for example, we were offered a storage unit free for a month with the rental of our moving truck. It ended up being a life saver, since we had nowhere to go when we got out there and lived in a hotel for a bit over a week. Not the greatest way to start a new marriage, but worse things have happened and we were young, resilient, and very much in love.

But past the free month, we didn’t have any need for the unit. Once we found an apartment and scrambled to move in on the last day we could spend in a hotel, we emptied the bay and thanked the people at the facility for letting us use it.
For some people, though, a storage unit isn’t a temporary thing.

Storage facilities represent one of the fastest growing business opportunities in the United States. It’s not uncommon to hear people talking about needing to fetch something from a storage unit. And while I can understand this coming from people who are in transitional phases in life where they’re in a temporary living situation or have to move in a hurry without sorting belongings properly, most of the time it comes from people who simply have too much stuff.

I’ve been on a mission in the past few months, tackling the major task of cutting back on the things we own. While we don’t have as much as some people might, I can’t help but look around our house and realize how weighed down we are by the things we keep. As Tyler Durden said in Fight Club, the things you own end up owning you.

But paring back isn’t always easy. Studies done in recent years even show that letting go of belongings triggers the same parts of the brain that react to pain. What we learn from this is that, as far as our brains are concerned, getting rid of things physically hurts! And the more time you spend with certain objects, the harder they can be to let go. I mean, I’m pretty sure we’ve all experienced the disappointment of having to throw away a favorite t-shirt.

There is good news, though. Just like anything else, the more you do it, the easier it gets. The first doubts are the toughest to quiet, the nagging thoughts like “What if I need this?” or “But this was a gift!”
When those feelings arise, it’s important to question why you have it to begin with. Do you use it? Do you need it? Or, in the case of pretty nick-knacks that are meant to sit on the shelf, do you love it?
If the answer to those questions is no, you probably need to let go.

Gifts can be the hardest things to part with, but you aren’t obligated to keep anything just because someone gave it to you. If you evaluate it and it doesn’t contribute to your life in a significant way, it’s okay to pass it on. If you’re really concerned about giving up presents, consider starting a gift album – A photo album filled with pictures of things you’ve been given over the years, whether you love them or not. You can even add notes on the backs of photos or to the side to say who gave it to you and when. Nothing is forgotten that way, and it makes a great conversation piece to go on the coffee table!

The most amazing part of slimming down what you own is how once something is gone, you rarely notice its absence. I try to find one thing each day to let go of, its destination ranging from the trash can to boxes sorted for donation or a yard sale to be held in warmer weather. I couldn’t say how many belongings I’ve evicted, because I haven’t kept track. All I know is that after letting go, I haven’t thought of any of it again, and that’s a pretty good feeling.

Like most young people, most of my working days have been spent working retail. It’s not a bad deal and it kept me from working in fast food. I don’t have anything against fast food jobs or workers, mind you, but I’ve always had really long hair. Cutting it to get a job was out of the question and I found the idea of having to put my hair up every single day before work to be rather daunting, so I opted to try my luck at something else first. I was fortunate to get the first job I ever applied for. Actually, I’ve had 3 jobs in my life and only 4 interviews, so I’d say I’m doing pretty good.

Two jobs involved cashiering, the third was a receptionist position. All of them involved me being the face at the desk that everyone dealt with. People working that sort of job see a lot of different customers each day, sometimes hundreds. For the most part, I’d say the transactions are bland and completely forgettable. And of the customers I remember, most of them are people I remember for having serious attitude problems.

There was the lady who caused a scene, yelling at a coworker for not putting her items in a bag… after she told said coworker she didn’t need a bag.
There was the man who started yelling at me for hating Mexicans because I wouldn’t give him the wrong item at a sale price, which I found amusing more than anything since I’m married to a Mexican.
There was the lady who became enraged because I asked to see her ID after I saw the credit card she handed me had “See ID” written on the back.

But this post isn’t about them. Except maybe that last one, because it was sort of funny and unusual what happened afterward.

This is about the good customers. The ones who make you laugh or smile. The ones who refrain from making bad jokes about something being free if it doesn’t have a tag. That one stopped being funny the first day I was employed, you know.
There’s far fewer good customers than there are bad. Generally speaking I’d say most people are pleasant customers, but pleasant isn’t the same as memorable.

I remember one very sweet woman who came with a return because the item she purchased was lacking instructions. She was so chipper and sweet and positive that it would have been tough not to remember her! We discussed houses and the nicest areas to live in, since she said she was visiting from out of state to go house shopping. We’re friends, now! She later ended up being one of my coworkers and we both remembered that very pleasant first transaction of the morning.

Then there was the lady I mentioned above, the one who got angry because I asked for her ID as per her own instructions. That transaction was bad, but several hours later, she returned to the store and asked to speak to me. I was sure she wanted to yell at me some more, but instead she handed me a bag of chocolates and apologized profusely, explaining that she was diabetic and was “a miserable bear” when her blood sugar started dropping. We had a good laugh about it in the end, though my colleagues and I were a bit confounded and confused, since we’d never seen anyone come back to apologize before!

Then there was a gentleman who needed help with paint after he got up to the register. He said crafts weren’t really his thing and he was doing something a little bit new and asked if I thought the paints he had would work for his project. So we talked about what he was working on and how it differed from his usual hobbies.

Jerry “the King” Lawler

He was so down-to-earth and friendly, called me “doll” and had one of those infectious sort of laughs. It wasn’t until later that I figured out why he looked familiar. I’m just going to chalk it up to that phenomenon where you can’t place where you know someone from if you see them outside the setting you’re used to seeing them in. Well, that and the part where I’m not exactly a huge professional wrestling fan.

Either way, though, he was an absolute gem, and now I’ll always have that weird story to tell about the time I helped teach the King about craft paint.

I kinda wish I’d asked to see the final outcome of his crafts.