Happy birthday to me! I am an illustrious 24-year-old today…and yes that is me in the sink.
My notable accomplishments in 24 years: took up running and lost weight, finished a degree (more to come someday?), kept 3 cats successfully alive, traveled the world (though never enough), gotten myself out of a bad long-term relationship, survived my parents’ divorce, bailed my father out of prison(with help) and weathered the ensuing legal shitstorm, got a legit painful adult job, fell madly in love, teaching myself carpentry and baking, and staying vaguely sane thus far. I’ve still not conquered the world or lived in a sailboat in Copenhagen harbor. Maybe I’ll get around to that.
I’m taking a day off today and heading out to Berkeley (camera in tow), I’ll try to bring you back something lovely!
(In other news, I finished my ottoman despite some mishaps, pictures to follow, and have a Finnish yogurt culture rye sourdough starter bubbling in my kitchen! I hope to bake with it soon… though sourdough breeding seems to be much more time consuming than I at first thought hahah.)
It’s been a little over two years now since my grandpa died, and I miss him sometimes horribly. I was prepping a post about the town house today and suddenly thought of him.
He loved a good walz, a hot sauna, and always carried rock candy around for little kids (he even hid some under his mattress when I was small). He didn’t get along with a lot of people, and was the center of at least one decade-long family feud, but he was my grandpa and I love him. I wish I could call him today.
I’m not sure how to write about this, and I debated not writing about it at all…. but my pop left for prison on Wednesday, I dropped him off at the airport in the midst of my last day of moving.
The whole thing is so convoluted and surreal that I don’t know how to tell you about it. The short version is that he has been convicted of money laundering, is being sent all the way to Mississippi to serve his year and a half prison sentence, and then deported forthwith to Finland.
This whole thing has been 2 years in the making, and though I’ve been depressed about it, in some ways it is a load off to have some resolution to the matter and to move on. Maybe that sounds insensitive or callous, but it is what it is. I’ll spare you the gory details in any case.
These are some old slides he scanned while staying at my house this past month, I think they’re from a balloon festival when we lived in Ithaca, NY. (I would make some flippant comment about being a Buddha baby, but seeing as how this is a rather somber post I’ll let you do that on your end.)