One to Nothin'

Camping Part II

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If you haven’t already, read Part I here.

Day two of Kensie-goes-camping started off pretty groggily since I didn’t sleep at all Friday night, but I perked up after a delicious campfire breakfast and waterless shower (oh hey, Ban wipes). Then we went for a short but brutal 3-ish mile hike where I crept my way across a giant log hovering over rocks and rushing water (my biggest fear being that my phone would get wet and I would lose all my photos-I have priorities, folks). It was on this hike that I officially decided I was going to die on Sunday because it was nearly impossible for me to breathe and I felt like I was the most out-of-shape mofo in the universe. I was so stoked to sit in the mossy grass by that lake up there and eat my PBJ, reflecting on my life thus far since it was sure to come to an end in less than 24 hours. Luckily there were some dudes there with me who assured me it was the altitude and not my lungs failing me. I still wasn’t totally convinced, but I headed back to the car to move on to our next campsite anyway: Whitney Portal.

This campsite was far less windy and there was a barrage of rocks you had to climb over to get from my car to the camping area. We ate some awesome food, packed lunch and supplies for the impending 3am wake up call and sat around the fire before spending the rest of the night obsessing about whether I would be able to hike 22 miles in one day or not. After several hours of visualizing myself at the top of the highest summit in the lower 48 states with a big old smile on my face, it was time to start hiking.

The first four miles were all ooh-look-at-the-sun-rising, it’s-so-beautiful and omg-this-is-a-piece-of-cake despite the constant incline, loose rocks and layering and delayering of clothing. It was just gradual enough that even at 10,000 feet up I wasn’t feeling short of breath. We were keeping a pretty steady 30-minute mile pace and even by mile 7, after climbing up a very snowy patch, we got cocky. We started thinking about how we were going to be back at the car by 3pm and how we would have time to crack open a bottle of wine and soak in the hot springs on the way back. We laughed at the marmot trying to get at our granola bars and took a bunch of photos amongst the snowy rocks and trees. We had no idea that the next four miles were going to crush our spirits and laugh in our faces as we cried into our snow axes.

We muscled through the next three miles like a bunch of disabled tortoises feeling more and more exhausted, motivated only by the thought of being at the top and the few people we passed who had made it and were going back down (unlike the many people we had already passed who were suffering from severe altitude sickness or felt that they couldn’t get through the icy parts without sufficient shoe spikes). We held onto a cable and slowly walked through the most narrow ice/rock combo I’ve ever seen, we scrambled up rocks that were not guaranteed to stay still, we went back and forth on 99 switchbacks and got prematurely excited when we “only” had about a half of a mile left.

It was at this point that we could see the top, but we could also see just exactly how awful a half mile straight up rocky switchbacks looks. It was beyond disheartening and my legs felt like they were going to fall off, but my adrenaline took hold and I forged on through to the top leaving the boys behind (they caught up a few minutes later). At the Mount Whitney Summit I found a bunch of other adventurers napping on the rocks and eventually the one celebrating his 21st birthday shotgunned a Budweiser up there because America! I was so happy to be at the top (14,490 feet up!) that I didn’t even bother to take off the very large men’s sweater I was wearing for photos. I even realized I got service up there, so I went ahead and called my mom to let her know I didn’t die. It was a pretty great moment for me, but after signing the guest book (one person wrote “I regret everything.” and I lol’d pretty hard) it was time to hike another 11 miles back down.

By the time we returned to those rocks where we gleefully observed marmots and made hot springs plans, about seven hours had passed and my adrenaline rush was fully depleted. On the way back I stumbled over icy patches, hit my donk on a bunch of rocks (I’ve got a giant bruise) and agonized over whether I could handle my bathroom business on a mountain. I didn’t once take my phone out for photos on that hike back, my left hand’s fingers looked like straight up sausages and by the time we got back to the car everyone was pretty miserable. It was 9pm and pitch black out, but we survived–22 mother effing miles. I was back at my apartment at 3:30am and up for work at 6:30am, so I’m still recovering, but it didn’t take long for me to minimize the traumatic second half of the adventure in my mind and now I’m ready for the next one.

Who’s ready to go on an adventure?

Girls Who Read

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Blood, Bones & Butter by Gabrielle Hamilton

The full title includes “The Inadvertent Education of a Reluctant Chef.” I think this is telling of the style of the entire book. While I can totally get into long, flowery and sometimes bizarre descriptions of food any day, sometimes less is more when it comes to storytelling and I felt that although her story was interesting, I was put off by the convoluted way she told it (this sentence structure makes me feel like a hypocrite, but I digress). It’s the autobiographical story of Gabrielle Hamilton, the owner of highly acclaimed NYC restaurant Prune. I loved the descriptions of Italy and the grit that goes into running a successful restaurant, so if you’re in the restaurant business or intrigued by it, check it out, and if not, well, skip it. If I find myself in NYC any time soon, however, I will definitely be stopping at Prune to stuff my face.

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

I blogged about this one here and in case you’re sick of hearing about it, just know I loved it as much as everyone else did and I will definitely be seeing the movie as soon as it comes out (although I’m nervous about it as I did see an episode of “The Secret Life of the American Teenager” once and yikes). For those of you who haven’t heard about it yet, it’s a love story of sorts about two teenagers with cancer and it’s nothing like you would expect such a story to be. It’s beautiful, funny, sad, down to earth and all the things you want in a novel. I read the whole thing on one flight and of course I was crying at the exact moment my row-mate needed to pee. Read it, tell me how much you loved it and then lend it to all your friends.

An Abundance of Katherines by John Green

After reading TFIOS, I knew I had to read more by Mr. Green, so I picked this one up and was not disappointed. It’s a hilarious and lighthearted story of a child prodigy coming to terms with no longer being a child or a prodigy while trying to develop a mathematical formula to explain why he’s been dumped by 19 different Katherines. Johnny boy knows how to write young adult fiction and I have no doubt that I will plow through every book he writes.

Divergent by Veronica Roth

This dystopian novel was recommended to me many times before I finally picked it up since I loved the Hunger Games series, so when I finally did, my expectations were pretty high. Maybe that was the problem, but it seems as though I’m the only human on the planet that didn’t love it. I mean, I finished it pretty quickly and I was interested in seeing what happened, but I didn’t feel any sort of deep connection to any of the characters–I didn’t even cry (and I cry very easily). There were some pretty dark scenes in there, so I’m pretty sure I should’ve shed at least a tear or two but it all just seemed very surface level. Still, if you’re looking for an easy read with a strong female lead character, check it out and let me know if you think I’m crazy for not loving it. I started the sequel, Insurgent, but I didn’t get far before starting three other books. Should I power through? Worth it?

State of Wonder by Ann Patchett

It was hard for me to get past the butterfly illustrations on the cover, but I’m glad I did. This novel is about a mild lab researcher who is sent to South America to check on the eccentric and very private scientist who is there developing a game-changing drug after her friend and colleague, who was originally sent on the task, is reported dead without much explanation. I was intrigued by every plot twist and although the end seemed a bit rushed (and quite frankly pissed me off a bit), I couldn’t put it down. I loved the scenery, the obstacles, the characters and trying to figure out what happened before it could be explained.

The Weird Sisters by Elanor Brown

This Shakespeare-heavy story about three very different sisters who reunite after many troubling years due to their mother’s sickness touched my heart in pretty wonderful way. Maybe it’s because there are three sisters in my family or because I’m a sucker for beautiful food descriptions and literary references, but I loved the whole thing from start to finish. It definitely didn’t hurt that Brown nailed the three-sister dynamic and I fully related to the youngest one. Two thumbs way, way up.

Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut

My first Vonnegut read! I’m currently reading two more, but this was the first and I had no idea what I was in for. I had a hard time following along at first, but I quickly learned to just go with it, embrace the satire and laugh at the illustrations.

What have you been reading lately? Want to be Goodreads friends? Add me here. Oh, and watch this.

Camping Part I

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Growing up in the sunshine state, my camping experiences were limited due to hot, sticky and mosquito-y circumstances. The last time I tried for real was in 1994 when I was about 5. I remember because it was my sister’s birthday and she got the Crazy, Sexy, Cool album by TLC as a gift (have I mentioned that I’m a pretty hardcore TLC fan? Should’ve added that to my fun facts). Anyway, after accidentally stepping in her birthday cake (resulting in my hysterical crying), encountering a multitude of giant, crunchy centipedes and contracting all sorts of diseases from all the mosquito bites, we called it quits and my poor mother transported a bunch of miserable children back to our safe, air-conditioned environments. Ever since then, I’ve added “camping” to just about every bucket list I’ve ever made and never followed through until this past weekend. Now that I’m in California where it’s cool every night and the only mosquitos I’ve seen haven’t tried to suck my blood, I had the no-excuses mentality despite the daunting itinerary for the weekend (I need an ice axe? What are crampons? Can I wear my running shoes? Balls.) I may have miscalculated a bit, but I bought my first pair of hiking boots, packed up my most camping chic clothing and hit the road for Spring Lake.

First stop was the fanciest roadside fruit stand I’ve ever seen. There were about 12 different types of pies and all sorts of gourmet beef jerky. I was impressed until we stopped at the Burger Barn in Bridgeport where I ate an epic guacamole, bacon burger and the best tater tots of my life. The map at Burger Barn even showed where Hogwarts was in relation to us, so I was clearly a fan. Next stop was our campsite at Spring Lake where the wind was not unlike that of a hurricane. Still, we somehow managed to pitch the tent and head off on the first hike of the weekend to get the altitude acclimation process started. We went about three miles up to Gem Lake and I started to wonder what I was getting myself into considering this wee baby six-miler was a little more than a quarter of the hike looming ahead of us for Sunday and I was already feeling it. The views, however, were killer and every five minutes I squealed because oh-my-god-these-mountains-aren’t-even-real.

When we got back we joined the rest of our group who were off taking a quick 13-mile run in Yosemite to warm up (yes, you read that correctly–I voluntarily went on a hiking trip with runners who think 13 miles in Yosemite is an appropriate warm up), ate some delicious food and retreated to our tents shortly after due to the ridiculous wind. The rest of the night was spent hoping that closing my eyes would result in some sort of rest as I listened to the wind rip through the tent and hoped that it was actually just wind and not a giant bear with an appetite for camping newbs. The wind finally stopped when the sun came up, coincidentally just in time for breakfast, and thus began the most adventurous, sleepless weekend of my life.

Some fun facts

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1. I haven’t gone this long without blogging in I don’t even know how long. It feels wrong.
2. While I was not blogging here, I was blogging here and here.
3. I had the most epic weekend of my 24-years-and-10-months of life and I will most certainly be blogging about it, but..
4. I got a cumulative four hours of sleep since Friday and my eyes look like I just came from a Slightly Stoopid concert, so be prepared for several photo dumps in the next couple days.
5. I hiked about 30 miles this weekend and saw at least three creatures I didn’t know existed.

6. Not showering after hiking 30 miles is pretty much the worst.
7. My lips have never been this sunburned before.
8. All weekend nobody giggled about the fact that ‘crampon’ rhymes with ‘tampon,’ so I did it for them.. silently.
9. The only place in Inyo National Park that I got cell phone service was at the very top of Mount Whitney (the highest point in the lower 48 states), so I took the opportunity to check in on Facebook and call my mom. 
10. While trying to figure out where I actually was all weekend, I heard the words “Tuolumne Meadows” and convinced myself that they were in the Eisley lyrics below. I was wrong. The actual lyric is “humming meadows” but for a second I was pretty stoked on my discovery.

What I wore

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Top: Target / Shorts: AE / Sandals: Target / Necklace: Fifth & Mae

It may be super late and I may be staring into the sun in all of these, but I did it. An actual “What I Wore” post on an actual Wednesday. This is what I call an accomplishment. Do with that what you will. That’s all I’ve got today. My brain isn’t working. I’m out.

Linking up here.

‘Cause the dark’s not taking prisoners tonight

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I’m having a hard time getting my thoughts organized today. This probably stems from a lack of sleep last night (and let’s be real, the whole past week), which probably stemmed from my obsessive thoughts. These thoughts included, but were not limited to: money (I wonder if I could sell my eggs?), unemployment (New e-mail notification?! Just the 50th promotion of the day), housing (How am I supposed to pay a deposit?), credit (Do I even have a score? It can’t be good), reading (Why did I stop? I felt much better while I was doing that), the time (I stopped because it was getting late. I’m supposed to be sleeping), relationships (WTF, mate?), camping (I really hope I won’t have to poop in the woods next weekend), hiking (20 miles in one day is a lot. Like, a lot), death (We won’t have cell service, what happens if I just stop breathing 10 miles in?), paranoia (You’re being ridiculous), OMG (CHILL THE EFF OUT), freelance (Will I have time to finish my projects?), gynecology (Oh Jesus, I have to sit in the stirrups tomorrow), caffeine (How much did I actually consume today?), time again (COOL, if I fall asleep now I will get four hours), my weekend (I’ve had a lovely one! Why am I doing this?), benefits of sleeping (You’d be a lot less stressed if you’d just sleep like a normal person), Ziggy (Why is she taking up the whole bed?), temperature (It’s hot as balls in here!!), hair twirling (This can’t be conducive to sleep, but I don’t want to stop), time (Now I’m at three hours), comfort (Maybe if I just keep rolling over..), Ziggy again (She’s between my legs. This is weird), guilt trip (Your life is awesome. Other people have real problems. Just go to sleep, princess), stop thinking (…), stop thinking (…), stop thinking (…still thinking).

I took a walk

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Yesterday I took a break from the soul sucking process of job searching to explore Fort Funston in San Francisco. The pure unadulterated joy on my dog’s face as she sprinted through the wet sand with her big beagle ears flopping in the wind was exactly what I needed. I walked while she pranced for miles and miles along the beach smiling with my whole face at other puppies and their parents along the way. We watched the fog melt slightly as we climbed rocks and admired the graffiti. Ziggy ate washed up dead crabs and rubbed her face and body in anything smelly while I laughed and resolved to bathe her.

I savored the way the barely dried sand crackled under my feet and studied the footprints that came before me. I wondered what made their creators decide to come out, how long their mark would remain and if they’d see mine, wondering the same about my journey and my four-legged friend. I made up their histories, placing them in jobs that would warrant a Wednesday afternoon off. I saw a large piece of driftwood and briefly entertained the thought of a mermaid basking in the fog. I hummed songs that were stuck in my head over and over again and I thought about how different the whole day would’ve been had I brought a companion who could talk. Someone that could override the constant and bizarre flow of thoughts I was completely alone with. I wondered if I’d think back on the day with more fondness or if I’d just feel like my time with me had been impeded.

I wondered why people are so afraid of being alone and how quick they are to dismiss the idea of courting their own thoughts. I considered the times I had spent listening to another’s stream of thoughts. I briefly remembered being in the company of a brain who’s stream seemed to entwine perfectly with mine, but it had been too long. I could barely remember. I thought it was probably a nice feeling. I wondered if I’d feel it again.

Then Ziggy hastily jumped over a rock formation intersecting an incoming wave, her tail tucked between her legs to emphasize her distaste for cold, rushing water. I giggled and waited for the wave to retreat, but I waited too long. She was already jumping back over the rock of death to make sure I was coming with her. I pushed all the other thoughts out to make room for the complete gratitude I felt for this little sausage of a dog and focused on that feeling for the rest of the walk.

I confess..

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-My glasses are supposed to be for far away things but it’s been getting increasingly difficult just to see the laptop a few feet in front of me. This combined with my D.A.R.E. t-shirt means I look like a fifth grade boy right now.
-I bought this new layout on Etsy and had trouble installing it despite its perfectly clear directions. (Like it? I know it’s kind of boring, but I wanted something simple for now.)
-I sort of despise those bloggers who catch on to design/HTML as if it’s an innate trait. IT’S NOT.
-I wanted to do an outfit post today and despite being off work all week, I have not once had the desire to make myself look presentable for photos, so you’re welcome for that gorgeous photo up there. #nofilter
-I have applied to what feels like an obscene amount of jobs since Monday and even though it’s only Wednesday, I’m already disappointed about not hearing back from any of them yet. I need instant gratification, y’all. I also need to be employed so I won’t be homeless by my 25th birthday (insert awkward, not-funny laughter here).
-That last confession has caused me to sit behind my computer almost constantly for the past 48 hours taking breaks only for blogging, The Mindy Project and working out. Oh, and food sometimes.
-It has also made me want to see a psychic so someone else can make my difficult life decisions for me. Anybody out there have clairvoyance powers they want to use on me for free?
-I’m currently reading three different books. I do not have the mental capacity for this. I don’t know what I was thinking but I can’t stop.
-I bought almond milk iced coffee and I love it, but it’s basically just caffeinated chocolate milk.
-I still haven’t gotten the trackpad on my laptop fixed. This means when I am internet-ing from my bed, I have a cookbook beside me that I can rest my cheapo-cord-attached mouse on.
-I recently created a playlist called “New Shit” because I’m classy like that and I super love it. Check it out.
Linking up with the fabulous Kathy.

Dinosaur Hat DIY

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(excuse my spray paint fingers)
Chances are unless you’re an adult-sized child like myself or you have children of your own, you’ll find this DIY project to be completely useless, but I figured in the off chance you have a dinosaur themed fiesta to attend, I’d share anyway. Also, I must give credit to my talented friend Emma for creating the prototype dino hat (see hers at the bottom of this post). Thanks for the inspiration, lady!
I used a baseball cap, two big googly eyes, green Duct tape, party hats, a hot glue gun and construction paper (I ended up not using the colorful cotton balls, but they could be fun to decorate with as well) and not pictured are rhinestones because I like my dinos to be fancy.
First I cut out two circles of white construction paper for the eyes and a yellow circle cut in half for eyelids. Next I cut a black pipe cleaner into six equal pieces and glued three to the back of each eyelid with the hot glue gun and rolled them up into cute curlicues. Then I glued the googly eyes to the white circles, glued down the eyelids and glitzed ’em up with some rhinestones.
Next I covered the whole hat in green Duct tape, which was time consuming and made the scissors kind of gooey, so be warned. I suppose if you find a green hat, you could skip this step. I could not. Then I took four party hats (two green, two silver) and cut them down so they could fit in a row from the bill to the back of the hat and glued them with the hot glue gun (they were a little crooked, but I just went with it).
To cover up the glue and reinforce the horns, I continued wrapping tape around each horn. Then to finish this quirky little dude up, I cut teeth out of the white construction paper, folded the flap down and glued them to the underside of the bill. Ta-dah! The goofiest, glam dino hat the world ever did see.
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