My View on Visors

    According to Wikipedia (my favorite encyclopedia), a visor is a surface which protects the eyes.  Under this definition, anything from the face of a hockey helmet to an automobile sun blocker classifies as a visor.  For this blog, I am going to refer to the visor hat, which attaches to your head, usually by velcro, and shades your face from the sun.

 










    I have been fighting with the theory of visors for quite some time now.  During our downsize, I cleared my closet of any and all visors.  My thoughts: I am not a professional tennis player, and I would rather kill two birds with one stone by protecting both my face and my head.  The facts, visors are actually still apart of many people's accessories.  I still see the ever-so-stylish, professional golfers wear them and even some poker dealers.  You can purchase them from any university, major beer line, ritzy car dealership, or just your everyday fashion stores (Gap, Abercrombie, etc.).

 

This is no longer a visor.

    Here are my pros and cons when it comes to visors.  They are great when you don't want to mess-up your hair.  I actually begin my hair styling wearing a visor; put on the visor, dry your hair like normal (if possible), and Wah Lah! you have visor hair (not to be confused with hat hair)!  Additionally, a visor reduces the amount of sweat by allowing for some airflow.  Bring on the heat!  I'm wearing my visor!  As for the cons, you can probably guess that these outweigh the pros seeing that my closet is clear of the topless hats....so here are a few.  Stop reading if you are near and dear to your veeee-sor.  The visor fulfills only half the job that a real hat would do.  It shades your face but allows the sun to blaze down on your sensitive head (bald men...give it up and get a hat; women...don't part your hair because you are asking for it).  Also, most individuals don't wear them correctly to begin with.  They oftentimes flip them upside down or turn them so they shade their neck instead of their face.  When purchasing a visor, I question whether there should be an instructions manual included.  After introducing you to my pros and cons, I hope you have more of a grasp on what you should do with that visor that is taking up space in your closet.  Get out there and wear it!  Or....let someone else take it for a spin.

Attractive....my ImposterBro

Cool....yes.  Protective....No.

I'll have two please.

BIG FIND!!!  A fanny pack visor!!!!

The Story of the Visor Bomb


    One day when I was much younger, I was playing in my house (probably with Barbies) when I heard the doorbell ring.  Being the responsible child I was (and still am), I allowed my father to answer it.  To his surprise, a box was left at the front door with no one to be seen.  It was addressed to my father, but it had no return address.  Being the apprehensive and careful person that my father sometimes is, he decided not to open it recalling all of the recent mail-bombs reported in the news.  After further inspection from my mother, it was decided to have the Salem Police Department investigate the package further.  Nearly a week later, an officer called upon our house with the contents of the suspicious package, a Miller Lite visor.  The moral of the story: visors do not equal bombs....simple math.

My Grandma sporting the bomb visor.

How To: Walk Your Dog in the City

    Last night, Doubles Shark-Whisperer stopped by for some grub and to drop Miss Phoebe off for a few days of playtime with the Maya.  After dinner, we took the dogs on a walk, and I had to teach Doubles Shark-Whisperer the proper etiquette when walking dogs in the city.  I feel that I need to share this same information with you.

    Before leaving the house (or apartment in our case), the dogs must be harnessed.  Like any little wiener, Maya and Phoebe love to bark at lurking shadows, moving leaves, or passersby in general; therefore, to prevent self-choking/hanging (and this will happen), the dogs must be harnessed.  After securing the pups on their leashes, an inventory of pooh bags and treats must be taken.  Don't ever get caught without your pooh bags; aside from the rude looks, the guilt alone will eat you alive if you don't pick up your dog's pooh.  According to recent sciences, they can now link a dog's pooh to the dog....it's DNA, my friends.  You don't want these things on your record.

Harness....Check.  Jealous of their style?

Pooh Bags...Check.  Even with a fresh scent!

    On exiting of the building, the dogs must be rushed out of the moving elevator, through the people-infested hallway, and out of the fancy lobby before any accidents should happen (it's like a video game).  If they do decide to squat, hunch, or whatever your dog does, best of luck to you.  You have been prepped for such catastrophes: clean-up the mess quickly, apologize to any onlookers, and get your team out of there.  Once outside, let the dogs sniff as much as they like; however, do not let this interrupt your walking.  Also, pay attention to general sniffing and potty sniffing....There is a difference.  One will result in absolutely nothing while the other may require some clean-up duties.  Allow your dog to enjoy the outdoors as much as you do (this may be for a short or long amount of time....you're a dog owner, stay outside!).

Maya is demonstrating a general sniff.

    When approaching other walkers, please use your manners by pulling your dog in close to your side (or heeling, as some professionals might say).  I have run into walkers who do everything but pick-up Maya and pinch her cheeks.  I have also run into walkers that will do anything to avoid being eaten by Maya; let's admit it, she is pretty scary.  It's better to be safe in these circumstances, so keep the pup near.  As for other dog walkers, feel the owner and the dog out.  If their dog is twice the size of yours and drooling for a small, wiener snack, keep walking.  However, if the dog and owner seem polite, allow the dogs to sniff each other.  While the dogs are getting acquainted by intimately smelling each others booties, exchange only dog's names with the owner.  Kicker....never exchange owner names.  That's how one might make friends....Hello....Big sign, and the last thing we newbies would want to do.  The dogs want to be friends....not the owners.  I have yet to introduce myself or be introduced to another dog owner, only their dogs.  I've found that if your dogs are the same breed, however, you may exchange not only names but phone numbers (PDub has experienced this).  Go figure.

One scared walker avoiding the ever-so-cute dogs....Hope she doesn't set that car alarm off

PDub did not support our re-enactments

Actual walkers crossing to the other side of the street to avoid our shenanigans

    On the return home, there is no need to worry about the maze back to the apartment if your dog has already relieved itself of both numbers (1 and 2).  Be sure to give your pup a treat if they have proven to be the perfect little angel you tell everyone they are (Maya, for sure).  If the walk was good for both pup and owner, a Stage III (refer to Maya blog) should be reached shortly after.  Dog walking in the city can be quite challenging with all of the obstacles, and I hope that this "how to" has informed you on how to attack such a task.

Wait at crosswalks for the walker-man-light and look like a happy family....It's the law!

Training them to press the elevator button themselves

Stage III...I still wonder if her paws fall asleep.....

A Kitchen Comparison

    As you can guess, our kitchen in Texas was much bigger than our one here in Virginia.  Everything is bigger in Texas....duh.  Even our refrigerator was bigger (two ice makers...'nuff said)!  In addition to the size, the colors are clearly different; in Texas, I must describe the kitchen as warm and homely while in Virginia white and surgery (yup...that's an adjective now).  The single upgrade that I will forever cling to.....gas stove!  Some may not consider this an upgrade, but when you can't cook with certain pots and pans (cast iron per se) on a stovetop, there's a limiting and negative factor that certainly stands out.  Gas stovetops are universal when it comes to pots and pans, and of course, my grandmother's cast iron skillets are getting plenty of use.  Food has never tasted so good!
    You must also get acquainted with our storage (a.k.a. closets) in this apartment.  We have a grand total of three, and this includes PDub's closet, my closet, and (drum roll please) a coat closet.  Now you see, this would be all fine and dandy had I not started my marriage with a pantry (spoiled...yes).  My mom does perfectly well without a pantry, but for me with my baking/cooking needs, I must have at least five boxes of cake mix, two bags of flour, and four bottles of steak seasoning (and that's just a start).  A life without a pantry just won't do.  With the limited storage space in the kitchen, PDub and I visited The Container Store and designed us a pantry/coat/Maya/cleaning closet.  Amazed?....because I still am.  With a little downsizing (of coats mostly), everything fit in.  It may not be as organized as I would want it to be; the coats have to be wiped of flour and powdered sugar prior to use, and bags of chips come crashing down every time Maya gets a treat, but we deal with it.  Oh, the joys of apartment living....Maybe we should just order out this evening....

Our kitchen in Texas

Love the color?

Granite countertops, anyone?

Our Virginia kitchen

Texas Ice Box

Virginia Ice Box

Pantry/Coat/Maya/Cleaning Closet

Gas Stove

My First Home

    I grew up and lived in the same town and house for 18 years.  Since then, I have lived in eight different places ranging from dorm rooms to houses.  As you can probably imagine, I am still very attached to my parents' home.  Although there is new paint on the walls, fluffier carpet, and different furniture, the sounds and scent still give me comfort and fill me with warmth.
    Last week, I had to leave this house for the thousandth time and return to my new home.  I hugged my mom goodbye, and my dad, Phoebe, Maya, and I hit the road for the 13 hour drive.  In my rearview mirror, I took one last glance at my home, which I now so painfully call my parents' house, and said goodbye to my past yet again.
    Every time I leave this house whether it would be to return to school for a few weeks or like now return to my new home for an inevitable amount of time, I develop an ache in my soul that will usually heal with time.  I guess this is a part of change.  All routines must be interrupted at some point, and change must be faced head on.  Each time I return to my parents' house, my memories awaken, and I live as if I were 12 again helping my dad pick out a tie and suspenders and talking with my mom over her coffee in the early morning.  We not only have to grow up but also live the lives we have chosen for ourselves.  Therefore, here I am back in Arlington settling back into my routine and healing from my trip to Illinois.  Luckily, I have PDub and Maya to get me through it.

My new home is wherever these two crazies are.

Tasty Tuesdays

    As I mentioned before, PDub and I live from meal to meal.  While eating breakfast, we discuss what we will be doing for lunch.  I wasn't always like this, for when I was growing up and in college, I would be so busy that I would often forget to eat at all.  PDub has changed my diet and made me fall in love with food (and cooking).

    Like most Americans, I have a love/hate relationship with food.  As Jenna Marbles once compared, Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" song isn't about a male/female relationship (or female/female, male/male....whichever you prefer) but instead about a human/food relationship.  During my day, everything will be going great with yogurt and juice for breakfast, but then I start craving me some McNuggets.  I may make it through the day successfully without giving into my unhealthy cravings, but there's always the stress of tomorrow's meals.  In addition to my three meals, I usually have an afternoon snack.  I'll sit down with a fat free bag of pretzels, and before you know it, I've eaten half the bag.  The guilt and regret I feel!
    Recently, PDub declared he was going to cut down on his portion size.  The night he started, we ate, and then I went to bed while he watched the basketball playoffs.  Shortly after I laid down, I heard him open a bag of potato chips and French onion dip.  Food!  What is this relationship we have?  A give and take.  And we all go through it....we all have to eat!  So in honor of this close relationship I have with food, I proclaim Tuesdays as Tastey Tuesdays where I will share my trials, tribulations, and love for food (and cooking).

The Lake and Peggy J.

    I grew up on the lake first drinking squeeze-its (which then became water guns) and more recently Chardonnay.  The first boat my family owned was an old wooden Chris Craft.  Had I known the sadness of not having this boat in the future, I would have begged to keep it instead of dying for an upgrade.

Squeeze-it?.....Don't mind if I do.

Passing on the squeeze-it legacy to my little KD-Did

    We would take Peggy J. (that was her name) to Forbes Lake and dock her there for the summer.  I still remember my parents loading my tiny self down with lifejackets, snacks, and God knows what else to make the hike down to the boat.  Peggy J. and the family would embark on many adventures whether it be skiing, tubing, or fishing,  However, it was unlawful to swim at this lake, but this didn't stop us.  We would anchor in a "hidden" cove knowing a code word that would trigger us to exit the water or jump on the tube fooling the Ranger of our true intentions.

Peggy J. with my dad, my ImpostorBro, his mom, and me.

    Fishing on Peggy J. always made for a good story.  My brother and I always caught far more fish than our dad (I must specify fish seeing that socks and seaweed do not count).  One trip was the worst.  My dad had not caught a single fish in an hour.  After seeing our flow of fish, his frustration led him to flashing a light on his line to find his hook dangling from a tree.

Who wears short shorts???  FisherDad wears short shorts!!!

     Life was always good on Peggy J., and I hope the person who owns it now has made just as many memories as we have on it.  Hopefully one day, PDub and I will have a family and a boat to share our many boating memories with and make many more.

Fathers and Flying

    Today is Father's Day, and I am spending it in stressful airports and cramped planes.  But best of all, I get to be with my daddy, a first in at least three years.  I am sure one of my first flights was as a small baby (and I was small) when my father would soar me through the air, airplane sounds and all.  However, the first flight that I truly remember was one when my dad, my blankie (which I called Woobie), my baby doll, and I boarded an airplane headed to Florida to meet my mom.
    At that time in my life, there was no reason for a bag or purse with a book and IPod like I carry now.  My Woobie and baby doll was all I needed.  Before take-off, the flight attendant asked that all items be stowed away in the seat in front of you or the bins over head.  I gently wrapped my baby doll in Woobie and placed her beneath the seat.  The flight attendant seeing this allowed me to hold my baby for take-off (a true treat!).
    After lift-off, I remember looking at my dad with pain in my ears hoping for some pointers or at least a consoling hug.  He responded by popping gum into my mouth and showing me how to chew and yawn.  My head didn't explode like I thought it would, and I give all credit to my dad.
    So here I am sitting on the flight back to the midwest chewing gum and reminiscing.  I may be 25, but I will always treat my father like a daddy still accepting his blown kisses, wise pointers, and terrible jokes.  Cheers to all the daddies out there...

My Dad and I at Muir Woods

My Dad and I at Great-View-of-Golden-Gate-Bridge Place

In Federal Prison

    Yesterday, my parents and I Baywatch ran into the ice cold San Francisco Bay to swim the distance from Pier 33 to the federal prison of Alcatraz.  In the 48 degree water, we battled with sharks and avoided barges and yachts.  We successfully arrived at the prison to find that tourists can actually take a ferry to The Rock.  Who knew?

On our swim...waterproof camera

The Vessel

    Alcatraz, also known as The Rock, was a federal prison from 1933 to 1963 housing some of the country's most dangerous men from Al Capone to the Birdman.  It is now a National Park where for a little money (predictable) one can walk the island seeing inside the prison and listening to recorded accounts of prisoners and guards.  From the isolation to the escapes, this tour may have been one of the best I've been on.

No worries, we didn't try anything shady...

Behind bars

Nerds

    On our return from the tour, we took the ferry, or what they called the vessel.  As our wet suits dried, we enjoyed a little of Fisherman's Wharf, a definite tourist trap (and we took the bait).  While dining at the Wharf, you can't help but envy the sea lions basking in the sun on the docks below.  Something I must try in the future....

On our return....my hair dried quickly from the swim.

Lazy sea lions

    Yet another day in San Francisco....

Muir Woods

    After five hours on a plane and more than four hours in airports, my parents and I have arrived in San Francisco (PDub is yet again in France).  We blessed our bellies with potstickers and Mu Shu from Hunan Home's Restaurant in Chinatown before succumbing to sleep well before 8pm pacific time.  On our first whole day, we woke up early to get on a bus headed for Muir Woods and Wine Country.

    Muir Woods is the home of the great redwoods.  These particular sequoyahs grow to about 400ft tall and are over 1,000 years old.  These giants should not be confused with the other species of redwoods, which you can drive through, that grow in northern California.  That adventure is for a different day.  Sadly, the trees we spent a little time with are a portion of the 5% that are left in the world.

    Luckily, the park was empty when we arrived, and we were able to experience these ever-so-wise trees in peace.  With the sound of the creek trickling through and the coolness of the morning air, we journeyed along the pathways taking in not only the trees but also the ferns and clover fitting into their niche perfectly and the deer drinking and eating near the creek.  Oftentimes in this hectic world where nature is being destroyed, we need to stop and observe the beauty that was given to us.  And that we did....before heading to Sonoma and Napa to indulge on alcohol a.k.a. wine tasting.

Giants...Not the humans, my friends

Do I see a tree gnome?

Down by the creek...also pronounced "crick"

Momma Deer and Bambi

Creeper

Treehugger

UPDATE:  I've seen 4 fanny packs in the past two days...Jealous?