TSA Ate my laptop – version 1

On March 31, 2017 By aftheadIn Fiction, Uncategorized19 Comments

Quick recap of what’s going on here. I left my laptop at TSA in Austin last Tuesday and on it was my homework for my writing class. Disaster! So, in order to maintain my good-student standing I quickly recreated my 600 word character study from memory and presented it in class, also on Tuesday. (The details of the assignment and the AACCKKK! version of my story were detailed earlier.) Today at 10:00 the FedEx man delivered my lost laptop to me, and I did not hug him, but I wanted to. I ripped off the bubble wrap and hugged my laptop. It didn’t mind. It missed me too.

Now, after doing all the work things that were waiting for me on the recovered laptop, I can present to you the first version of my assignment. The one I was thoughtful about, edited, and worked hard on. Then the fun part. Let’s compare which story was better!

As a reminder the assignment was to “imagine a person with an idiosyncratic way of seeing the world…Have this character witness a traumatic event” using first person point of view and 600 words. (Check out the 3 AM Epiphany for this writing assignment and a host of others.)

I’m not one of those go getters. My comfort zone isn’t being the lead, or making the strategy, or finding a new path. Really, I like being told what to do, and I think that’s an overlooked and important role. As much as my mother complains about my lack of initiative even she sees the benefit. When she asks me to do the laundry or make dinner, I do it right, every time – provided she gives me the right level of detail in her instructions.

Life is made up of vague requests and other people spend their energy chasing after the right problem. Not me. In college, I’d utilize office hours to make sure I really understood assignments. Exactly what did my professor want the program to do and how should I code it? The bonus was that sometimes he would even start the assignment for me, because it was the best way for him to provide me with total clarity. That’s what I’m always striving for. Total clarity.

My desire to do what I’m told doesn’t mean I’m a follower, far from it. As soon as it was legal I changed my given name from Charlie to Charlemagne, because it better represented the persona I want to present to the world. There is a misconception that people who want to please can’t be unique individuals.

Unfortunately, it’s been hard to find my way after college. I’ve been let go from three jobs because they said I lacked initiative. What they wanted was some person who was willing to go off and waste time solving vague problems because my bosses were too lazy to define what they really wanted, but I probably shouldn’t have told them that.

I’ve found a niche for myself, though. Hackathons: events where a bunch of coders, entrepreneurs and big thinkers get together to solve a problem over a weekend. The big thinkers get up and pitch ideas and the coders, like me, have to create a prototype. In no time I learned how to pinpoint the big thinkers who needed me: the ones who knew exactly what they wanted done and needed someone to do it.

I won a couple of hackathons with my strategy: even a big one worth $5,000. But the best part of being a hacker was that it made me a hero. One night I was getting some last details from this executive guy. Everyone else had left, and he was going on about how market share, or something. Suddenly, he stopped talking and grabbed his chest. He dropped to the floor.

What was I supposed to do? Crouching down next to the guy I asked what he needed, but he wasn’t able to answer. When I called out for help no one came. I sat next to him for a bit, but after he didn’t wake up I decided to leave. I made it as far as the hallway, then clarity. There was one of those AED things on the wall. I ripped it open, and it started talking to me. The machine told me exactly what to do, and I did it. When the machine told me to call 911 I did that too. Then the dispatcher told me exactly what to do. When the paramedics arrived they checked the guy out and said, “You saved this guy’s life. You are a hero.” I saved a guy’s life doing exactly what I was told. I’m really hoping he makes a full recovery and then gives me a job. My clarity saved his life.

Oh. Some things are better, but some things are worse. What do you think readers? I’ll provide my own self-evaluation next!

TSA Ate my Laptop – version 2

On March 31, 2017 By aftheadIn Fiction, Uncategorized10 Comments

I’m taking a class at Lighthouse Writer’s Workshop on Writing Apocalyptic Fiction. With everything going on in my world I felt like the best way to counteract my fears of climate change, economic disaster, and governmental collapse was to immerse myself in the apocalypse for 8 weeks. Layer a writing class on top of anxiety on top of a crazy work schedule -including weekend travel- and one of my carefully balanced life pieces was bound to come crashing down. Cue leaving my laptop at TSA security in Austin and not realizing my mistake until I was midair and halfway home.

At the moment I realized what had happened the first thought to hit me was, “but my homework was on my laptop!” I intentionally timed my trip to ensure I’d be home right before my writing class. I’d done the homework and now I was faced with going to class with the lamest excuse. So, being a total goody-two-shoes I got home and rewrote my 600 word assignment from memory. Arriving in class I told everyone my story only to discover I was the only person who did the homework, and I did it twice. (See earlier goody-two-shoes comment.) Thus I got the honor and privileged of reading aloud my hastily thrown together homework to everyone. It wasn’t bad. I got a few snickers at the funny parts, and no snickers at the not funny parts.

However, now find myself faced with a fun personal writing experiment. My laptop is due to be delivered by FedEx any moment, and I can compare my homework I spent time on – checking grammar and editing – with my 30 minute word dump. Often I’ve wanted to just trash something I wrote and start over, but I always wonder if the new version will really be any better. Now I’m going to see, and I’m going to let you see too! Here is my hastily slapped together homework. The assignment? To “imagine a person with an idiosyncratic way of seeing the world…Have this character witness a traumatic event.” The assignment was to be in first person point of view and 600 words. (Check out the 3 AM Epiphany for this writing assignment and a host of others.)

Here is the slapdash version for your entertainment:

I am not one of those go getters. In fact, I’ve always liked being told what to do, which is a misunderstood and undervalued skill. People waste a great deal of effort chasing after elusive requests. It’s more efficient to spend time really understanding what someone wants before you go into action. Even my mother – who has always complained about my lack of “get up and go” – admits there are times she appreciates my approach. If she asks me to do the laundry or make dinner she gets exactly what she wants: provided she gives clear direction.
My technique really shined in college. I utilized professors’ office hours to ensure that I really understood their assignments. What programming language did they want me to use? How should the end product look? An unexpected advantage was that often they’d start my project for me to ensure I had perfect clarity. Always my goal is perfect clarity.
Since graduation I’ve been in and out of jobs. Every interview I’ve very up front about my approach, and the three companies that hired me seemed excited by my process. But something always changed; each time I got let go for “lack of initiative”. Lack initiative? The problem was that my managers and mentors never deeply explained what they wanted me to do. They wanted me to take some vague idea and magically turn it into something they wanted. If they weren’t so lazy I would be more effective, but I learned that people don’t want that kind of feedback.
To make ends meet I spend weekends at hackathons. Hackathons are events where programmers, entrepreneurs and big thinkers come together and prototype innovative ideas. My strategy is to listen for the guys who have a really detailed idea. Those are the ones who need my help. I seek them out and we spend all weekend creating their vision. I won first place once – $5000 – but the best thing that happened as a result of hacking was that they made me a hero.
At my last event there was this really old guy who knew exactly what he wanted. He went way over time talking about his idea and encouraged questions while he was being shut down by the event organizers. He and I were a great team. Late at night we were nailing down some final details when he grabbed his chest and collapsed. I didn’t know what to do. Crouching next to him I asked, “What do you want me to do?” but he didn’t answer. I yelled for help, but everyone else had left. After a bit I decided to leave. What else could I do? Then I found total clarity when I walked past one of those AED things on the wall.
I ripped it down and the thing started talking to me. It gave me very specific instructions, and I followed them perfectly. When it told me to call 911, I did, and the dispatcher gave me very specific instructions, which I followed perfectly. Then the paramedics showed up. After I did what they told me, one of them turned to me and said, “You saved this guy’s life. You are a hero.”
They rushed him to the hospital and he made a full recovery. His company had this big event when he went back to work and they presented me with a medal. My mom even got to come. It was great, but I was really hoping for a job. I mean, my clarity saved that guy’s life. We made a great team.

Oh, ding dong! My laptop is here! The original version of my assignment coming next!

Goodbye Bart

On March 17, 2017March 17, 2017 By aftheadIn childhood, Uncategorized21 Comments

Ah Bart. Remember him? He was my attempt to prove to myself that I am not the cat grim reaper (or cat hospice provider as so many of you sweetly suggested.) I think it is time for me to write his final chapter.

For those of you who missed the early story Bart was a foster cat our family took in back in November when our local shelter became overcrowded with rescue animals from other states. Our mission was to get him healthy, so he could go to the pet cardiologist to have his level 2 heart murmur evaluated. (Heart murmurs for cats are graded from 1-6 with the 1-2 range usually not being a big deal.) Bart was kind of a mess when he came to us, but oh, he was a lover and had a purr that vibrated his whole body. Over the month we cared for Bart he recovered from a wound on his leg, a multiweek long respiratory infection, a perpetual bloody nose from the aforementioned respiratory infection, and being neutered. Just when everything was all better and he was healthy enough to go to the cardiologist a surprise gross abscess burst under his chin leaving bloody puss all over his fur and the floor.

The shelter people told me to bring him in, that they would evaluate this new wound then check with the specialist. Even with his new ailment, he was cleared to see the cardiologist, so Mr. Bart went for a field trip to the animal hospital, and I agreed to take him back and get his abscess cleared up before he went up for adoption. Five more days of antibiotics for Bart at the Afthead house, but he’d get to spend Christmas with us!

December 23rd the shelter called with the results of Bart’s cardiology scan. He had two defective ventricles. The shelter vets and specialists conferred and had decided that Bart was going to be euthanized. His condition gave him only 3 -18 months to live, so he wasn’t eligible for adoption. Two days before Christmas I got this news, and the extra present was that the shelter said that they would allow me, and only me, to adopt him, but I would have to take him back to the cardiologist and be responsible for his heart medication and quarterly/monthly cardiac checkups. The single thing that could save Bart was my willingness to take on the time and expense to care for a cat who probably wouldn’t live two years. I pondered all this while sitting in my study stroking what appeared to be a healthy Bart.

The only person I told was my husband, who doesn’t really care about animals the same way I do, and we agreed that no one else needed this news right before Christmas. We also agreed that I needed time to decide what we were going to do. (Mr. Afthead leaves such decisions to me, since I am the one with a breakable heart.) So I put on my happy face and celebrated the holidays with my family, my own pets, and Bart.

In the back of my head thoughts were churning. How could this happen again? Why would life be so unfair to give this sweet cat a defective heart? Could he continue to live with us? My cats hated having Bart in the house. They had stopped entering the basement, which is where their litterboxes are, and had resorted to pooping and peeing on my bed until I put a litterbox in my bedroom. Could I live with that situation? Bart was sweet, but a destructive cat and had shredded the chair in my study, his domain, and clawed other furniture when given the chance to explore. Unquestionably I could have trained him, but maybe not before he died or had a stroke: either likely situations given his condition. And while we really liked Bart no one in the family felt that he was our cat. We were doing this so that some other family could adopt this beautiful, big purring cat, not so he would be ours.

There were so many ethical considerations. Should we tell our daughter about what the shelter had decided? Should she get to help make the decision about what our family was going to do? Was it wrong for me to keep the news from my extended family over the holidays? Was it my responsibility to care for Bart until the end of his life regardless of the cost or quality of his life? Because I believe in science and medicine I didn’t think the diagnosis was wrong. If I adopted him he would die. What should I do?

I searched my heart and my brain but in the end I came to the same place I’d come before. This was too much. Without telling my daughter anything except that Bart was going back I took him to the shelter and said goodbye.

For two days I held my sadness in and pretended that Bart might be going up for adoption, or Bart might come and live with us to be fostered again. Eventually I started to tell my friends and family what had happened. Because secrets and lies have a way of worming their way to the surface eventually one of my friends told her daughter – a friend of my daughter’s – what happened. When I found out I knew I had to tell my daughter because kid friends talk. I didn’t want my child’s trust and faith in her mother to be dependent on the ability of a 9 year old to keep her mouth shut. I got home from work and said, “I’ve got some sad news.”

“Don’t tell me Bart is dead.”

All I could do was nod. We cried together about the 8 dead cats she’s known in her 8 years. She listed each one and the way they died. Three pets and five fosters all gone. When we were done with the immediate mourning she told me what I had known all along, “Mommy, we are never, ever doing that again.” We won’t. We won’t foster. We won’t keep big secrets from each other. We won’t do that ever again.

I love the community at the shelter, and the foster parents. My foster mentor was so caring when I told her what happened with Bart, and she promised me that my situation “just never happens.” No one loses 5 out of six foster cats in their first two attempts. She shared her own sad stories, and even offered to give me a her healthiest foster litter this spring to ensure I have a success. Behind the scenes I’m sure she raised heck – contrary to the evidence she really thinks I have the potential to be a great foster parent – and a few weeks after Bart died a sympathy card came from the shelter. It made me cry, but it did not make me change my mind. This is not my way of helping make the world a better place. I can’t take any more dead cats.

Last time this happened I was able to come up with some silver linings, but not this time. I’m sad for me, sad for my family, sad for Bart, and sad for the shelter and the folks who work there. Nothing about this was fair or good or worthwhile. Everyone poured their heart into this experience and the only glint of silver is that Bart was able to live in a warm house with a family for a month, but that seems so pitiful.

In the end, as always, children are the wisest. This weekend my kiddo told me, “Mom, I think that all our cats that died are part of Adventure now.” (Adventure is our only foster that lived, and she’s our pet now.) She started listing out traits of each dead cat and how she saw them reflected in our pet. At the end of her speech she looked to me for approval and I told her, “Yep kiddo, I think you are right,” because really I don’t have any better resolution.

Goodbye Bart. We were all pulling for a happy ending, but it wasn’t meant to be.

Tiny Knit Pirates

On March 3, 2017March 3, 2017 By aftheadIn Knitting, Uncategorized12 Comments

Hi Bloggy friends! I have missed you, but enjoyed my time away basking in the sun and catching beads in New Orleans. Our Mardi Gras trip started and ended in Houston, saving us thousands of dollars in flights and allowing us to visit friends and their new baby in Houston. But what was a person to do with 10 hours of driving?

Knit tiny pirates!

Grandma Afthead has been hinting for a bit that her and Afthead Junior’s “pirate game” would be greatly enhanced by some tiny Mochimochi Land pirates, and I am not one to ignore knitting requests. Thus, I broke out my newly created tiny-knit-kit during the drive back to Houston from New Orleans and started knitting. What’s a tiny-knit-kit? I’m glad you asked!

Before the trip I wound many colors of tiny knit yarn onto embroidery floss spools – I use Knit Picks Palette yarn because it is cheap and comes in a bazillion colors. Then I raided the few Mochimochi Land kits I’ve purchased for tiny bags of fiberfill. Finally, I found my favorite needles for making tiny creatures, size 1 Lantern Moon Sox Stix, and threw everything into a small plastic pencil box. Voila! Tiny-Knit-Kit: perfect for tiny travel knitting! My patterns were slipped into sheet protectors and clipped into a plastic two-pocket folder. The whole thing fit nicely on my lap as we drove/flew along.

See! It even worked on the airplane after I finished the pirates and started on a tiny knit chicken, because that’s what pirates wear on their shoulders, right? No? Oh…. Guess I know what my NEXT tiny project will be.

Let me introduce you to my newest tiny knit friends! We have Orleans Tinypants and his golden jelly bean. Orleans is knit from the base Mochimochi land pattern with no modifications.

Then we have Captain Penn Tinypants, who may also moonlight as a gangsta rapper when he’s on shore. Captain Penn is a modification of the Mochimochi Land Tiny Pirate pattern, and details are on his Ravelry page. Basically he’s a row taller than the base pattern, has a wicked gold belt buckle and chain, has a debonair white shirt open to the waist, and his glowing blue eyes make the tiny ladies swoon and strike fear into his crew. He’s also meticulous about his sunscreen use, which is why he’s such an oddly pale pirate. Way to be skin cancer conscious Captain Penn!

The pirates were thrilled when we got home and they discovered the piles of dubloons and beads from Mardi Gras. The two of them have relocated with their booty to Grandma’s house and are having a great time. Grandma has mentioned that she thinks she’s heard the quiet sounds of pirate rap on still nights, but she might be imagining things.

Ravelry Links for Tiny Pirates:

Orleans Tinypants – Base Pattern

Captain Penn Tinypants – Modified Pattern

As always, thanks to Anna Hrachovec and her amazing Mochimochi Land patterns!

Carnaval Fingerless Mitts

On March 2, 2017March 4, 2017 By aftheadIn Knitting, Uncategorized5 Comments

You detail oriented readers might have perused yesterday’s post and left wondering, “Johanna, if you knit those tiny pirates on the way BACK from New Orleans what did you do on the way to Mardi Gras?” (No one wondered about that, did they?) Well readers, I have an answer for you. The first leg was spent completing fingerless mitts for Afthead Junior in the perfectly named “Carnaval” colorway.

Afthead Junior has always been a lover of fingerless hand garments. Her allowance has been spent on an array of neither practical or comfortable colored Party City fishnet glovelike creations ranging from wristlets to full arm length wonders.

Thus when one of my knitting friends knit her daughter fingerless gloves my daughter begged for a matching pair of her own.

I finished the knitting as we battled traffic heading into New Orleans. I wanted to her to have them in case it was cold at a night parade. They would be perfect for catching – fingers free – and the bold colors would attract the attention of the krewe on the floats. However, the weather in New Orleans was beautiful, so I was able to weave in loose ends before my daughter wore them for our not-cold-at-all five hour drive to Houston. Aren’t they adorable with her Mardi Gras hat? Thankfully we still have plenty of winterish weather to come at home, so they will get used.

For the knitters, here are some details about the project.

Pattern: Little Girl Wristlets by Janice MacDaniels

Yarn: Manos del Uruguay Allegria, colorway Carnaval.

Needles: Random bamboo size 3

This is a great pattern, and a wonderful yarn. Afthead Junior is really sensitive to itchy yarns, and she loves these mitts. Super bonus for parents, the end product is machine washable. The colorway is beautiful, bright and eye catching. I recommend these for anyone looking for a quick functional knit for kids. Plus, I’ve got enough yarn left that I’m casting on a pair of socks for myself out of the same skein.

Let’s end with a totally unrelated picture of Adventure the cat snuggling on a draft of my short story next to the Carnaval yarn, shall we? This was taken moments after I pulled a good 8 inches of ingested yarn out of the tiny kitty’s gullet. Yuck. At a year and a half I hoped she would be farther along the “respect the yarn” continuum. (Note, I cut off and threw away the kitty chewed yarn. It’s not included in the final product.)

Wonky Love

On February 14, 2017February 14, 2017 By aftheadIn Uncategorized3 Comments

Love is not always a humped crimson orb tapering to a perfect point. Sometimes it’s a little asymmetrical, dirty and rounded.

Or life has taken a big hunk out of it.

Occasionally it’s cracked, misshapen, and poorly sprinkled – yet still delectable.

Sometimes it’s fuzzy and a bit standoffish.

Unexpectedly its feathery alien aspects will push you to new limits.

Yet pure glimpses into its soft irregular perfection will overwhelm you.

Whatever the shape, size, or consistency of your love today embrace it. Happy Valentine’s Day from my afthead (and forehead) to yours.

Make your Blog Beautiful

On January 30, 2017January 30, 2017 By aftheadIn Uncategorized3 Comments

I’m waiting for my first ever guest blogger to wrap up her first ever blog post, but while she dawdles with things like school and birthday parties and spelling tests I wanted to share an amazing photo resource I just found. Occasionally my day job helps my early morning, late night and weekend avocation, and last week a 5-8:00 p.m. “day job” meeting led me to a remarkable site. Blogging friends you have to check out Unsplash.

Personally, I love using my own photos in my blog, but sometimes I want to write about something and I don’t have an appropriate photo. Oftentimes I end up with a blog post that has no picture because I get tired of trying to negotiate all the license terms and general ethics of using pictures I find on the Internet. I find blog posts with no pictures less interesting, less read, and less liked on Twitter. Well now there is a replacement for those boring posts: adding images from Unsplash.

Let’s say you have a blog post about how every February you yearn for spring, or even summer’s heat and flowers. You may not have a recent picture of summer flowers, but Unsplash does.

fafgqxdj2t8-dan-gold https://unsplash.com/search/flower?photo=fAFgqxDJ2t8

Let’s say you are full of angst about politics. You want an image to convey how you feel inside, but you aren’t a professional photographer, so you don’t have a good storm picture. That’s okay. Unsplash has you covered.

jh2ktqhlmje-jeremy-thomas https://unsplash.com/collections/341590/dark-and-stormy?photo=jh2KTqHLMjE

Let’s say one of your favorite bloggers just shared an awesome photo site with you. One that provides “Free (do whatever you want) high-resolution photos” under a Creative Commons Zero license. You might want a picture that shows how you feel about your blogging friend, this new resource, and life in general. Oh yeah, you guessed it, Unsplash has you covered.

yimy3erbc3o-josh-felise https://unsplash.com/search/happy-book?photo=yIMy3ERBc3o

So go forth my friends. Write whatever blog post you want about any topic that interests you. Then head over to Unsplash, and add an image or two. Make your blogs a little more beautiful, and please, if you use Unsplash I’d love to check out your post, so leave me a comment or pingback.

tznbaktucti-tran-mau-tri-tam https://unsplash.com/search/write?photo=tZnbakTUcTI

Oh yeah, check that out. A picture of a woman working on her WordPress site. Unsplash has something for every occasion!

Thanks to Unsplash for the amazing resource, the artists on Unsplash for the images above, and to the Daily Prompt for the theme: Replacement

Knew Year Knitting

On January 2, 2017January 3, 2017 By aftheadIn Uncategorized10 Comments

Ah the holidays! Unless you are desperately knitting some gift for someone, which I was, there is not a ton of time for handcraft in December. My unexpected trip to Washington, DC meant I needed a travel friendly project, and the gift I was knitting and my cowl I will never finish were both too bulky to take. I needed another option.

I’ve had this Zealana Rimu yarn for awhile now, and have been looking for the right project to make with it. Zealana uses brushtail possum fiber and combines it with merino wool to make a machine washable yarn. Yes, I have possum yarn. Also, the more I read about brushtail possum and the impacts the non-native animal has had on New Zealand’s ecosystem the more I’m pretty sure that I have dead possum fur in my yarn. I think that’s okay, even though one of the things I love most about yarn is that it’s made from renewable fibers from animals that aren’t killed. However, I’m helping New Zealand’s ecosystem by providing a market for dead possum, right? Regardless of the ethical implications of my yarn, the stitch definition is great, but the final fabric also has a really nice halo, thanks to the dead possum’s fur. The stuff’s not cheap either, so I hope I’m also financially helping out the New Zealand’s ecosystem.

My search led to a hat pattern I was dying to try – not literally dying like the possum – that matched up with the Rima yarn. The Bath Abbey Hat is adorable, and looked like the right level of challenge to take on a trip. I needed a cable needle – annoying – but I love knits that I look at and think, “how did they do that?!?!” Into my bag went two contrasting skeins of Rimu and the pattern.

Hotel knitting

Home knitting

Bad kitty!

I started the hat on my flight out to DC and by the time I got home had my first repeat of the dunes done (those are the rounded shapes that make up the majority of the hat.) Non-knitters can skip the next sentence. There is no fair-isle knitting here: the color work is all done with slipped stitches and cables. Welcome back non-knitters! Even through the holiday I managed to knit on it here and there. As I rang in 2017 on New Year’s Eve I finished the dunes then left my knitting beside the bed. Bad idea Afthead. New Year’s morning I found my bamboo needles thoroughly chewed by the tiny cat. While she has learned to respect the yarn and the knitting, the cat does not respect the knitting needles yet. This is the third set she’s ruined. She and I are going to have needle lessons soon. I continued stitching on a nice sturdy pair of metal needles, and finished the crown shaping today. I love this hat! I even snapped a couple pictures of my forehead to show off the loveliness.

The Dunes

Happy Afthead forehead

The Ravelry details are posted, but my biggest modification is that I only did 5 rows of dunes, not 6. I just can’t get into the super slouchy hat trend, but if you do love slouchy the hat would be great with another repeat.

One final picture of me in my new hat with the obnoxious needle chewing kitty. Happy knew year!

Update: Additional pictures provided that show the full hat, unblocked, and the inside of the hat, so you can get a sense of the construction.

Afthead at the White House

On December 28, 2016 By aftheadIn Best Day Ever, Uncategorized15 Comments

Dear readers. The weeks before Christmas are chaotic and filled with high expectations, high demands, and fun…fun…fun. So when a work trip pops up the answer is inevitably no, unless the request comes from the White House. Yes, my friends, you read that right. I was invited to the White House. Now let me get a couple of questions out of the way:

Yes, I went on the work trip two weeks before Christmas.
No, I did not get to meet the President or the First Lady.
No, I did not get to hug Joe Biden, even though that was Afthead Junior’s number one request.
No, I did not sit in the Oval Office. In fact, I didn’t even make it to the White House building. My meeting was in the Eisenhower Executive Office Building or EEOB seen on the right, behind the many fences, in the image below. It is very close to the White House, and still pretty darn impressive, as you will see.

After checking in with security, being sniffed by a dog, x-rayed, and being checked by security again I was presented with my official credentials, that I had to return, and the badge I still wear everywhere except to sleep because it is pokey.

Do you see that? It says “The White House.” Then it says “Johanna Levene.” That’s me! The weird part about being in the EEOB – I am so official using the acronym – is that once you get through all of the security you just get to wander around this insanely cool old building. All the important rooms are locked with a badge reader – like the Vice President’s office, so one couldn’t just wander in for a hug – but you can just walk into many of the historic rooms if there isn’t a meeting going on.

The ceilings are impressive.

The stairwells are impressive.

The library is impressive.

The conference rooms are impressive. This is part of the Secretary of War Suite.

The wallpaper is impressive.

I am impressive (and very smiley, because my badge says White House.) I cannot believe my Christmas cards were made before I got this picture. Maybe next year….

But the computers are archaic. Just kidding. Oddly there were flat screen TVs in all the conference rooms, and they looked completely out of place. However, in the Secretary of War Suite there was also this little set up in case you brought your typing skills, or some ink and parchment and wanted to pen a founding document real quick.

After my meeting – yes I actually participated in a four hour meeting in addition to taking all these pictures – I ate lunch in the coffee shop (lunch at the White House); tried to get into the Truman bowling alley (locked); and bought a bunch of Christmas presents at the White House gift shop. As I left I came the closest to the actual White House itself, so of course I took a picture. Yeah, that’s the West Wing there on the other side of the parking lot. Wave to President Obama. Then I turned around and snapped a picture of the EEOB one last time, because you can’t get this angle unless you are a White House visitor.

This was my first White House invitation in my thirteen year career, and the best part about the meeting is that it was actually important I was there. This was no gratuitous White House invite. I briefed my boss’s, boss’s, boss’s….on and on… boss before the meeting, and he used my talking points in his presentation. I got to speak. I made a call to action. It was pretty darn cool. I think I deserve a congratulatory pat on the afthead.

In case you are interested in learning more of the history of the EEOB or White House check out these great sites:

West Wing Tour: https://www.whitehouse.gov/about/inside-white-house/west-wing-tour

Eisenhower Executive Office Building Tour: https://www.whitehouse.gov/about/inside-white-house/eeob-tour

Afthead Holiday Party

On December 10, 2016 By aftheadIn Best Day Ever, Uncategorized12 Comments

I’ve just finished cleaning up from my third annual holiday party. Yep, me, the introverted Afthead throws a holiday party every year, but it’s my kind of party. I pick up five of my daughters friends after school and we craft for four hours. I am their hostess, their coach and their mentor as they learn new skills making gift for themselves, their friends, and their families.

Every year I have a plan. I buy supplies: yarn, pipe cleaners, beads, and Popsicle sticks. In the days before the party my daughter and I make sample projects and test out what is too hard, what doesn’t really come together, and what we can reuse from last year. The event begins with an after school snack while I casually lay out the demo items we’ve created, showing what they could make for their mom, sister, dad, or grandpa. Some things grab their attention, and some things don’t, but ten minutes into the party it isn’t about me anymore: it becomes all about them. I hand them each a gift bag to store their loot and they start crafting.

It is a marvel to behold, an experiment in personalities. We hand select friends who can sit and craft for four hours with breaks only for food and to find the scissors. Learning from our past mistakes girls who want to be the center of attention or who can’t sit still aren’t invited back, because there are lots of parties where you can dance on the table, chase friends or wear pretty dresses. This party is different; I and the girls love it.

This year we hit the perfect mix of guests. There were two new girls on the invite list. I taught one to finger knit and she was a prodigy. Four hours she stood in her snow boots looping yarn over her tiny fingers. She went home with three scarves. The second new girl sat on the floor cross-legged making pom-pom after pom-pom: methodically winding the yarn around one arm of the puffball maker, closing it; winding the other arm, closing it; finding the good scissors, cutting the loops; and tying the yarn around the middle. She’d wiggle the contraption apart and out would pop another pom pom. Then she’d find another yarn and do the whole process again.

The evening’s transition is magical. They start the day calling for my help. Every one of them needs me, my hands, and my expertise. Impatiently they wait calling out Coach Johanna, Jo Jo, Mom, Mrs. Johanna, but by the end they are helping each other and I am forgotten. Today, with an hour left in the party, I was unexpectedly called. They explained that a timer needed so the girls could prepare for a rendezvous. Having no idea what they were talking about they explained, with the condescension of children, what they are learning about Colorado history right now. In case you are also ignorant:

Rocky Mountain Rendezvous (in trapper jargon) was an annual gathering (1825–1840) at various locations held by a fur trading company at which trappers and mountain men sold their furs and hides and replenished their supplies.

The timer rang, and the girls set up shop to trade their precious crafts with each other. There were no fights, no arguments, lots of compliments, and it was all their idea. I contributed cookies to the event, which they appreciated, while letting me know my presence was not needed.

I learn so much from them. Beyond expanding my knowledge of western history, I learn perspective about my daughter’s own strengths and weaknesses in the light of her friends. I learn more about the challenges and struggles they each have and they have together. I learn how each of them has grown and changed since I last had concentrated time with them. But I get to teach too. I teach them that it is important to be kind to each other. I teach them that we don’t have and Elf on the Shelf, because our family thinks the elves are creepy, but we don’t judge their family for having one. I teach about our joint Christmas and Hanukkah celebration. I teach them the wonder of making something with your own two hands and using your brain to take an idea and make it your own. I hope I teach them that even as a grown up there are lots of different ways of having fun with your friends.

This is the one party every year when I don’t worry about what to wear, I don’t need a drink to loosen me up, and I don’t want to hide in my basement to recover. Cleaning up from the event I love the dustpan full of yarn bits and googly eyes. My daughter, having helped and chatted with her friends, starts her projects in earnest when everyone leaves. She’s watched her friends and picked her favorite ideas to make over and over. My extroverted daughter and her introverted momma are both energized when the evening comes to a close.

You can have your cocktail dresses, your high heeled shoes, your signature drinks, and your white elephant gifts. Me? I’ll take a group of kids and some glue for as long as they will have me.