2017 In Review

You know, I'm probably one of a choir of voices saying that 2017 has been a total wreck.  I don't even know why (oh wait yes I do, I spent the WHOLE YEAR PREGNANT and got flooded out of my freaking house) but I think a lot of the feeling of gloom and doom has been the media and the Back To the Future II Alternate Reality it's painting.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not a fan of humanity and never have been, but the media is the only thing more toxic than humans, and they have been feeding on emotions like maggots on a carcass.  2017 was rough, is my point.

So, imagine my surprise when I wanted to put this post together and realized, hey...we did a LOT of cool things this year!  All I remembered was feeling nauseated and tired and swollen and homeless, but I powered through a lot of adventures, including a few things that were massive bucket list items.  Some things I never thought I would even get to do, like introduce my son to my dad.

I'll be following up this post with a list of things I want to do for 2018, as well as the story I haven't told, about our trip to Hiawatha.  But for now, here is the chronological list of crap that happened this year!!!

2017 In Review

-Let's start with January 4.  Till Lindemann's birthday!!! Also, the day I felt a sneaking suspicion I was pregnant.  I took two tests back to back (haha) and yep. positive.  I had planned on waiting to tell Allyn until his birthday, but I just suck at keeping secrets.  I told him maybe a week later.

January: We drove down to Moab to celebrate Allyn's birthday.  It was pretty abandoned in the off-season, but still gorgeous.  We had dinner at the amazing Sunset Grill, which has uranium and uranium products on display (below, left) and explored the cult location Home of Truth. (Above)
Valentine's Day we went to Wendover, Nevada and bought Rusty Shackleford, that beautiful Beetle you see above.  This was my present to Allyn.  The photo on the above left is the Bonneville Salt Flats, taken during that trip. 

Also in February, we toured some of Tooele County's ghost towns; Mercur, Ophir, Eureka.  We explored the Tintic Reduction Mill (below photos) and drove on the original Pony Express road for several miles.  Honestly this day was one of the best days I've ever spent with someone, just exploring and talking and being together.

The winter stayed late this year, but in March/April we announced our pregnancy and had a gender reveal party.  I'll never forget seeing my little Zordon for the first time on ultrasound at eleven weeks; he was literally flipping full cartwheels and when Allyn and I saw him we both burst out laughing.  Then he made us go to the fetal fotos place four times before the techs could see his sex.  I was convinced after the repeated "here's a lapful of umbilical cord" that I was having a girl, but as it turns out my first suspicions of having a boy were accurate!

 Also in May we ventured home for a few reasons--firstly to attend a friend's birthday party, and secondly, no lie, to attempt to visit Ghost Town (below left top and bottom). And we succeeded on both fronts!  We had an amazing visit with family and Allyn got to see, for the first time, where I come from.

We wandered Farner and I had my first burnout, (don't judge me) and we explored my abandoned elementary school as well as another nearby abandoned school.  (black and white below photos) Other treats were Machine Falls (below right) and of course the Great Smoky Mountains.

As spring turned into summer things got tougher, but we still had a great time.  In June, Allyn and I went camping in Carbon County for Father's Day.  We also attended a car show and I was in a pinup contest in Helper, I didn't win BUT I won a prize for pinup knowledge which to me is even cooler.  I don't just like the clothes and hair, I know my shit when it comes to that time period (and a bunch of others, lol.)

In July we had a great time at Magna's "Halloween in July" event.  However, I'm convinced that these summer outside events need to move inside because I just can't take the desert heat.  Seven months pregnant and tottering around dressed as one of Immortan Joe's wives was way too close to actual apocalypse.  I did Allyn's warboy makeup though, and that was awesome.  So many people loved it!!  We also caught the tail-end of the Bonneville Salt Flats race days, which was fun and also miserable for a big pregnant fatty.  I swear, every summer memory I have is tainted with being so immobile and hot.  HOT.  Pregnancy in summer is the wooooooooooorst! 

We also became temporarily homeless in July.  There was a totally random Salt Lake flood and it destroyed our apartment.  The landlady's insurance company forced us to evacuate and through the kindness of a stranger on Reddit we had a basement to stay in for a few weeks while I burned up all of our saved funds looking for a place.  So many kind people turned up out of the woodwork to help.  It was the roughest time I've gone through because during this bout of purgatory my Dad had another, worse, motorcycle accident.  The fear of not knowing if he was alive or his status compounded with not knowing where my son's first home would be was devastating.  I'm sure it contributed to my complications in late pregnancy.

So basically fuck late July and early August.

Somehow in all of this chaos we still managed to make it to Zermatt Resort for my birthday (carousel photo) which was on the day of the solar eclipse.  We had intentions of getting into the old Mountain Spaa resort there, but it was pretty clearly guarded on all sides by houses and even though the sun was shaded that day, it was still full daylight.  The photo below was taken around 11:30 am when the sky was darkest; it's the photo from the abandoned resort.

In September our son was born and we became bona-fide parents.  I don't really know what to say about all that, I don't have a big long tirade about motherhood being what I was born to do, lol.  I also don't have the cliche things to say about my son being my world and life was meaningless until this day etc etc.  He is a tiny person who was brought into my world.  And I love him deeply.  I still get flashes of transcendence cat when we make eye contact sometimes.

Die Antwoord came to Saltair a day after my birthday and it was something Allyn and I had been planning to go to all year, no joke.  Our original plan had something to do with dressing up super Zef, but I was so fat and preggo-summer miserable and I think Allyn was so tired of dealing with me by then (haha) that we just wore comfy clothes and had a great time.  Funny story--we followed the tour bus out and saw Ninja and Yo-Landi and watched as the bus took the wrong turn and stayed in the wrong lane like five times on the way back to the city.  You could smell the weed.  It was pretty hilarious.

Anyway, Allyn made an official proposal during one of our songs and it was the sweetest.  It was perfect in every way.  We married on the anniversary of our first kiss.  We married in front of the old Saltair location.  I never thought I'd be the marrying type, and I certainly am not pro-marriage, but honestly I didn't even question it with him.  It just felt natural.

September and October were mostly just sprinkled with my rage and hate and post-partum issues, BUT THAT IS ANOTHER STORY FOR ANOTHER DAY! We did make it to Oktoberfest, although I had to have my dirndl altered because my post-baby body was uh, NOT the same size.  It still isn't.  Why can't we just telepathically create children or something?  Biology is so inefficient. But, for Oktoberfest I bought Allyn legit lederhosen and boy, was he a hit!  Everybody wanted photos.  Such a handsome lumberjack.

I was suffering pretty badly in those first few months and got the jump on some sporadic, last-minute tickets to Tennessee. We took the baby to see his Tennessee family and I got some much-needed bonding time with my dad and sisters.  My dad got to meet Ender, and Allyn finally socialized after having his first bout of Tennessee moonshine.

That pretty much brings us current!  It's December now, and all I've been doing is working and watching Riverdale and Penny Dreadful (more like Penny Dreadful Ending, amirite?) Riverdale is so bad/good, but it fills a spot that the Vampire Diaries previously filled--trashy, stupid teen drama soap opera.  The 16 year old girl in me needs it.  Plus, Archie Andrews? Hot redhead? Yes.

I'll write more about the upcoming year as well as our Hiawatha incident, but I really just wanted to look back on this year in all its weird and intense glory and drama and soak it in for the eventful learning experience that it has been. 


On Feeding My Kid

I don't want this space to just reflect my experience as a mom--I am NOT nor will I ever be, a mommy blogger.   But I do feel like it's important to be candid and honest about my experiences because that is what has helped me all through my life.  Both from reading others' experiences and from the catharsis of "letting it out" in writing.  Once an experience is on this blog it's a little less heavy in my mind.  

For those reasons, I'm going to talk today about my personal experience with breastfeeding, and the mystery/lack of medical support/bullshit I was told--and as usual, my feeeeeelings about it.  If anyone reading is curious (and particularly if they want to breastfeed) I highly, highly recommend doing some research on lip ties and tongue ties.  I literally thought "being tongue-tied" was a colloquial way of describing tripping over one's words, until I met Allyn, who had a tongue tie his entire childhood and adult life, until surgery.  I knew it was something to look out for, which is something most new moms don't even hear about.

I always didn't care one way or the other about breastfeeding. When everyone asked my answer was "I'll try" because I'm pretty "meh" about all things motherhood and always have been.  I didn't want to hear the tips and tricks and advice and invasive conversations, because there's nothing I can't stand more than mom advice after asking me a question.  It's like they're opening an avenue to lecture me.  Not interested.  Inwardly, I always just assumed in my head that yes, I would breastfeed, and there wasn't a question of it. After all, "my mom did it with 4 of us" as you hear so often.....

What makes me angry is that there was no attempt to help me at all. My pediatrician didn't notice his tongue tie.  I was the one who brought it up, and she clipped it but left him with a lip tie. The lactation consultant never appeared at all in my hospital room, even when I asked for her.  She huffed her way in hurriedly as we were packing up and dismissively said she could give me a breast pump "it isn't that good" when I asked for one.  When I asked for advice, on the way out the door, about lip and tongue ties she stated her own daughter was in her 40's and had just found out she currently had both.  Like...how does that help me?   Does your 40 year old daughter breastfeed???

But this conversation was on my way out the door in a wheelchair.  Is that an appropriate time to show a new mother with zero support how to breastfeed???  During the course of my postpartum stay I was a bit preoccupied, recovering from a c section after 40 hours of labor.  I looked/felt so dead that the nurses just let me sleep and fed my baby formula constantly, despite me asking them to wake me up if it was time, to attempt to breastfeed. (I was really out of it and couldn't lift my arms for awhile either, sooo thanks, shitty anesthesiologist) But I told two separate administrators, plus a nurse, that I hadn't had an appointment with a consultant yet.  My point is that I was charged for aftercare in which the CNAs helping me stand up to go pee were basically all the "support" I got.  (No offense to them, shoutout to my CNAs, they were AMAZING)

My experience was that I came out of this horrific, traumatic birth and then sat in a tiny, stuffy room where a nurse told me flatly "yep that's breastfeeding, it just hurts" after the baby latched on and bruised me beyond belief. All the months of reading every book, every SINGLE book DRILLING into my head that my baby won't be as handsome or as intelligent without breastmilk, that he won't love me as much or thrive as much, and with breastmilk he won't ever get sick or have asthma or ear infections and life will be easy, and he won't die of SIDS...do you love your baby? BETTER BREASTFEED THEM!!!!....DO YOU WANT YOUR BABY TO DIE OF SIDS? NO? BREASTFEED! ....all to end up with a baby who couldn't latch because of a tongue tie and a lip tie, and me sitting there, frustrated and in tears, with severe PPD unable to fight against it.  Pumping didn't work either, the pump I got was cheaply made and had several issues and in between taking care of a newborn and recovering I just didn't have the energy to prioritize a goddamn breast pump.

I went to the baby's one month checkup and was, at the time, still doing a combo of breast feeding and supplementing with formula, but he still couldn't latch properly because of the tie and was swallowing air. 30 minutes of starved feeding ended with frustrated screams until we popped the formula bottle in his mouth, then he was fine. Every. Single. Feed.  Do you know how demoralizing it is to watch your kid fight and fight for a good milk flow, screech unhappily at you, and then sigh in relief at a powder mix?  Such empowerment much womanhood.  Just what I needed.

I told the pediatrician I wanted his lip tie taken care of and she shamed me so hard, saying it was invasive, unnecessary, "he might end up with a gap later on but that's no problem" (okay?)  "a lot of kids break their own lip ties from minor trauma like falling" (like I should just push him around every opportunity to assist...?) "dentists are the only ones who correct lip ties" (false) "and there are two dentists in the Salt Lake Valley that I know of who do it so at this point you have to wonder if it's a money grab" this woman had a personal soap box against lip ties.  I said directly to her, "I can't breastfeed" and she replied, "okay."

 That was it .....I just didn't argue. She didn't even look in his mouth.

My PPD was so bad that my roommates, the most beautiful and wonderful angels in this world, took charge and among other things got me a new pediatrician and dragged me and the baby to his two month appointment. I informed the new doctor of the lip tie with what I can only describe as hopelessness; he examined my son's mouth right then and said it was a severe, rare type, and called in a senior pediatric doctor.  That doctor then asked if another doctor could come observe the procedure.  Not only were they willing to help and do it on the spot, they were treating this seriously and using it as a learning experience to help others in the future. Thirty seconds and two drops of blood and it was over, his whole mouth had changed shape.  The doctor mentioned that he would research how best to document the procedure so that it wouldn't cost as much.  Just a money grab, right?

Unfortunately, it was too late for me.  Ender was done trying,  He didn't want anything to do with breastfeeding, and I was so over it and angry that the last thing on my mind was pumping in the middle of this rage and depression.  I felt so defeated.  And I still do.  I appreciate the "Fed is best" movements and I appreciate everyone's sentiments that I'm not a failure, but I don't mind saying that I still feel like one.  I feel like if I wanted I could pump and try to get my supply up again and at least give him bottles.  Truthfully my PPD is anything but resolved so just getting through the day is the most I can do and I feel like I've failed my baby.

I found the below video and it was the ONLY THING that gave me a bit of hope.  Women in their 'mama tribe' and feelgood-doula movements treat breastmilk like it's the solution to every ailment on earth--I was even told to use breastmilk on my bruised nipple (???) but the prospect of feeding Ender bread-soaked in water is so harrowing that I can't help but be amazed at formula's existence.  I know I'm not 'poisoning' my baby (as some websites and forums truly, truly perpetuate) and I know that I love him just as much as someone who breastfeeds, but that doesn't stop the inadequacy or feelings that I gave up and need to do more.  It's so hard to come to peace with literally anything about my birth and postpartum experience, and I doubt I will for some time.

Here's the video that helped:


About Settling Down

I hate to be that stereotypical person, you know, "my life iz sooooOOoo CRAZY lulz" but...haha, it kind of is.

I bought this mug at Ross once.  It has a flamingo on it.  It's this mug, actually. I LOVE flamingos (sidenote, not because I'm into pinup stuff, I actually have loved them because I'm a Benny Siegel fan) but when I noticed this big huge coffee mug, I couldn't get past the big "welcome" banner.  Welcome? Like, you're welcome because this cup is full of coffee?  Welcome to your morning? And I almost didn't get the mug because I was put off by the weird Engrish-reminiscent banner.  But then I thought of this:

And I thought, "oh man, this mug is talking about my life." So I bought it.  And every time I get me a cup o Johan in that mug, I welcome myself to the fuckin' show. 


I've talked years ago on this blog about how I was veering toward a career in earth science or geology.  At the time I was a new EMT and though I love the field, I wasn't sure if I had a future in it.  The truth about EMS is that it doesn't pay, and if I were thinking of committing further--paramedic or firefighter, say--you pretty much have to mow down competition and/or travel extensively to find a position.  I've met many a man in my career field who's so hell bent on getting a spot with a fire station he'd set you on fire.  There are people with a passion for it.  I have many passions.  I don't want to stand in the way of someone who wants and deserves a career as a fire chief.  I am very ambitious, but it just didn't feel right.  So I stalled, waiting.  

However, in my work as an EMT, especially now, where I work around chemicals and dangerous substances, I talk to and network with a lot of people who have been in this field a long time.  I also have the opportunity to do work that I feel is important and meaningful, while thinking about the long term of this field, and getting feedback on my questions and ideals.  These people have made careers at it and they come from a variety of backgrounds.  Some of the people I work with are chemists.  Some have hazmat or wildland firefighting experience.  It's a whole world of chemistry, explosions, reactions, burns, concoctions, ...good stuff.  Fun stuff.  I have been mulling over my options as I learn. 

I never thought I'd say it, but my son is another factor in what I plan on doing for the rest of my life.  Honestly, I could be content forever with a fulfilling and mediocre-paying career, I truly could.  If I'm a good EMT, why not be satisfied?  But that changed this year.  Wanting the best for his future blah blah blah--I won't get redundant, every smug parent ever says the same crap, but it really does make a difference in where I see myself going and work I want to do.  I need something sustainable, and something that will ensure he doesn't end up in Farner eating food bank rations (not that I don't have pride in where I come from.  I just want him to have better.)

Whenever I talked about living in Salt Lake to county dwellers, the response is "oh I couldn't live in the city."  "I hate the city."  "The city drives me nuts."  My reply was always the same "I'll move when I'm older."  I wasn't disagreeing with them, but made sense as a young adult to stay somewhere close to networking.  You can find events and meet people.  There's always some shitty concert or bar or party or gallery or festival to get dressed up for.  The shopping is better, the restaurants are better, the extra-curriculars are better.  Being a young adult is about learning what the world has to offer and I learned.

Turns out the "when I'm older" has come, though.  Living in the city is chipping away at my sanity every day.  I don't care about shopping and festivals.  I am not interested in meeting people; I've met all I want to meet.  Driving bumper to bumper and cursing at red lights is pretty much my idea of hell.  I always had this dream of being in a comfortable house in a small community--maybe not as isolated as where I grew up, which is pretty much the jungle--I didn't imagine the handsome lumberjack husband but I'm so glad he's here.  I imagined having foster kids (never imagined my own, but I'm SO glad he's here) and cats (check) spending some place I like working in a home I love managing.  No more farmer's markets, just my own garden.  No more downtown restaurants, just learning my own recipes.  A place where I can pick and choose important events and travel farther to them instead of screaming at the Maverick Center every time there's some dumbass country music artist blocking traffic all night long.  I've outgrown the city and want to go back to my roots.

Every time I envision raising Ender in the city I get massive anxiety.  I was thrown from a backwoods Appalachian school into a city when I was fifteen and it was an obscene culture shock.  I'm not saying it's better or worse.  I feel that school and its effectiveness is based on parental input as well as the teachers, and rural versus urban isn't really an issue in a city the size of Salt Lake.  Allyn was born and raised in Salt Lake and he is the smartest and kindest human I've ever met, so I know it's possible to be a city slicker and turn out okay, but there are parts of my childhood that I want my son to know and not wonder about.  Things like lightning bugs and snakes and the occasional bear in your backyard.  Exploring in the woods with no restrictions, just imagination.  Riding horses and raising animals, survival skills.  The quietness of reading books for hours while it rains.  Being so bored you make up your own games and force your parents to play along.  Grabbing a toy and going outside and letting time pass until the sun is completely gone.  Even in my poverty and knowing, then and now, all of the things I didn't have, those days seemed so completely full to me.  That may be why I go back and try to recapture the magic of places like Cherokee and Ghost Town.

Combining the Two
So, with all of these heavy topics at hand, what am I to do?  I've decided that I'm not yet ready to fully settle down and that's no surprise.  I'm only 30 and there are many more states and maybe countries that I want to live in.  Utah will always be the place I return to, but luckily for me it will be there whenever I am ready.  I am drawn to places, unsurprisingly, with beautiful forests and landscapes.  Before I was ever in foster care, my parents and aunt Doris both pitched the idea to me to become a game warden or work in forestry.

Living and working here has taught me that I really am at my best, and happiest, when my work interacts with nature.  Not just in the way that a park ranger might interact with nature, but the actual science of things; biology, especially chemistry, ecology, geology.  That I have dilly-dallied around and still after years feel strongly about these topics means something to me.  I've moved so much that I'm comfortable with the idea of moving for work, moving my family.  Ender already had his first flight to Tennessee and back.  I used to be a wild woman fluttering around wherever on my Crocodile-Dundee-esque "walkabouts" but I have no problem doing that with my boys either.

I don't know what kind of forestry jobs exist for environmental science graduates, but I know that the career field is open and varied.  I honestly would love the experience; anything from a game warden to a wildland firefighter to a ranger to instructor and on down the line.  The time has finally come to finish my education and I'm doing it without having a set, black and white career in mind.  But I feel great about it.


Life Lately // October Goals

When did liking fall and spooky stuff become the norm? When I was in school you were a total weirdo if you thought about your costume anytime before October 15.  Rude.

It's been awhile since I just sat down and wrote about how things are going, and those are posts I avoid writing because who cares?  You're supposed to write interesting stories and stuff, but back when cool people used to blog for fun and not for money, "what's up with me" posts were always my favorite.

Ender is one month old today.  Everybody's telling me to slow down but I'm loving his strength and watching him grow.  I was not made to take care of tiny babies, and I long for the days he'll be able to communicate with me past a screeching wail.  That being said, oh I love him so much.  It hurts me when he cries.  I am a slave to his tiny impatient little will.  He's a wonderful baby.

We went to Oktoberfest.  I had a great time until the end (naturally) but I took some great pictures of Allyn.  It's sorry and pathetic how much more often I need to get to the mountains, and also to take photos, but I did order a new lens as a late birthday present to myself, and I got some great pictures.  But this one is my faaaaaaaave <3

I got married!  So...to make a long story short, Allyn and I went to Die Antwoord at Saltair a day after my birthday when I was suuuuuuuuper pregnant.  After the song "I Fink U Freeky" (a song of ours) and during the song "I Don't Care" (one of my favorite love songs of theirs) Allyn officially asked me to marry him.  Oh, it was the most beautiful moment, I can't express enough how special it was.

We'd already talked about my hatred of people social anxiety and the likelihood that an actual wedding would cause me more misery than a few hours in a pretty white dress was worth...I just think weddings are so ridiculous.  Thousands of dollars because you are getting married?  A commitment of two people to each other--whyyyyyy does that require such a stiff affair? I mean if you're the partying type the party aspect of it makes sense, especially if you're an extrovert (which neither of us are) but the thousands of dollars in venue and flowers and photography and having matching seats and this big just ridiculous display of tradition do not.  I always thought things like college graduation or buying a home made way more sense to throw a formal party over, but whatever, I was the weirdo who liked Halloween in school....

So we went to, where else? Saltair.  I picked the date--it was the anniversary of our first kiss.  I also picked the venue because it means so much to me and I've taught Allyn all about it.  For those who don't know (the reverend marrying us, for example) the original Saltair building(s) which were destroyed by fire several times, are now just pillars and debris and a long, straight road into nothingness.  The majesty of the resort is gone but everyone who knows me, knows that it haunts me and draws me in regardless.

Where Saltair stood, versus the same road today.  Credit/Read More

The wedding ceremony was perfect.  We had two witnesses, people whom we love and cherish, and most importantly, our son was there.  The service and the vows were so special to me, and luckily I have a printed copy of everything that was said, so that I can always remember it.  I also have a video of it, which I've shamelessly watched and cried to several times. We stood on that old road that played host to thousands of visitors from all over the country, toward the empty lake that to me holds more magic and mystery than anyplace I've ever been.  Every time I look down that road I imagine the silhouette of the resort and thousands of twinkling lights and the roar of conversation, the rail car screeching to a stop to pickup and transport the swimmers.  Now I have a memory there that is real and doesn't involve my imagination.  A piece of me and us is and will always be at the old road, to mix in with all the remembrances and thoughts of everyone else who had special moments there.

I know it's extremely random and weird, especially factoring in my disdain for weddings, but ever since I was a little girl I always wanted to get married barefoot.  My mom is probably the person who put that ridiculous notion into my head since she was all about that bra-burning 70's free spirit crap.  When she married my dad she wore a flower crown with her feathered bangs, ha! Anyway, it somehow got into my head that I needed to be married outside (outside is far superior to anything man-made) and barefoot.

And lo, it happened! I kicked off my sneakers onsite and the entire affair I was barefoot.  Not only was it great to fulfill that strange, absurd lifelong expectation, but I felt a bit closer to my mom, and that's always nice.

I also cried, and Allyn almost cried.

So now, in addition to Ender's Birthday, my sister's Birthday, my wedding anniversary, and my Utah anniversary--all in September!!!-- I get to look forward to all that October has to offer.  I wanted to make a little fall to-do list.  Honestly these days just putting clothes on is the end of my routine, not the beginning, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to make a big-ass list and be optimistic about it.

October Goals
-Deep clean the baby's room and our bedroom
-Go back to physical therapy
-Go back to therapy therapy (haha)
-Go with Allyn to therapy
-Take care of insurance records etc due to marriage and having a baby
-Start calorie counting again
-work on getting milk supply up for when I return to work
-Get Rusty moved into the garage/clean out the garage
-Make a dump run with the garbage leftover from moving
-DIY lighted curtains for our bedroom closet
-Hang up shelves in the bedroom and finish hanging pictures
-See the symphony (they're playing Beethoven's 5th!!!)

Spooky goals
-carve pumpkins
-make my costume of course!
-finish decorating the house and get the decorations out of the garage
-bake a cemetery cake with the kids
-go to a haunted house with Allyn
-do my skull makeup on Allyn
-attend Fear Con or the Halloween Expo (not sure which yet!)
-Go to Wheeler Farm and do the haunted corn maze + pumpkin patch
-Go to Red Butte Gardens
-Drive up to Silver Lake, maybe hike up a bit if the weather permits
-bake Halloween treats for the guys at work
-Go to the Halloween Hoot at Tracy Aviary
-Enter the Halloween contest at the Gallivan Plaza Monster Block Party

Oh yeah I'm sure allll of that will get done.  To be fair, the spooky goals are more like "here's what's happening and what I want to go, let's pick a few" so as long as I get out of the house I'm good.

Life is busy, but it's a good busy.