The Next Big Adventure

My life has been a series of adventures the past little while.  I won't bore you with mundane details of travelogue-ing nor a week-by-week play-by-play of my day-to-day existence (I do wish I could think of more ways to put a hyphenated phrase in that sentence...).  But, here are a few highlights.

1.  I finally graduated.  

It is official.

2. My fabulous parents and sisters trekked out to Nebraska to celebrate my graduation with me.  My sister flew in on May 2nd during a ginormous snowstorm that included 8 inches of snow and thundersnow (a super cool phenomenon I only experienced twice in Nebraska).  Luckily it had all melted off by graduation day 3 days later, but 'twas a little chilly.  Hence the coats and hoodies:

Stopping by the UNL dairy store for a delicious treat.

3.  I spent a fantastic week at Girls Camp with fabulous folks.  I've been able to go the last 3 years here in my stake and oh, will I miss it.  

We were on a giant swing.  Despite pictorial evidence which would suggest the contrary, I was not at all terrified - there was a lot of laughing and it was crazy fun.  But the juxtaposition of the two of us in this picture never fails to make me crack up.

4.  I moseyed some 5,000 miles to play in Europe for a bit.

Playing on a great little bike tour on a chilly, rainy day at Versailles, France.

Waiting for the Flamenco show in Barcelona. Ole!

5.  I drove 1,500 miles to Washington to spend 2 glorious weeks with my family.  

We did a lot of weenie/marshmallow roasting.

And Just Dance'ing.  (sidenote:  watching 10 nieces/nephews simultaneously dancing to Just Dance to the same song is a singularly delightful experience.)

6.  I packed up my car in a most obnoxious fashion...

Easy-ish access to the cooler...(and yes, that plant made it, though 'twas a little iffy for awhile there)

The cart added essential and phenomenal space...

Now that is a ridiculously full trunk.

...and drove/camped 4,000 miles across the country with my sister.

4,000 miles later and we still never ran out of things to talk about...

We stopped at a plethora of places along the way.  Here are a few:

- Insert Fantastic Yellowstone Picture here that may or may not have been accidentally deleted off the camera :-(  -

  

Yellowstone to see Old Faithful and the Paint Pots.

AND 

Gettysburg.  What a beautiful, sad, and sacred place to be.

AND

Niagara Falls (and a Wookie made by a friend of mine back in Nebraska.)  The Falls really are stunning.

AND

Palmyra, New York: Smith Family Farm.

AND

Walking into The Sacred Grove, Palmyra, New York.  A beautiful and truly sacred place. 

I feel like that last picture there is rather symbolic of my foray into The Next Big Adventure.  I've moved myself to Boston, Massachusetts to start a post-doctoral research position.  The girl in that picture is walking steadily forward, her eyes on the road ahead.  But, I am well aware that there is trepidation in her step, not because of fear per se, but mostly because of the uncertainty in her world at the moment.  There is a lot of new.  There is a lot of unknown.  The road is steep and the learning curve is high.  While change is not my forte, I am also well aware that all of this trepidation and newness is exactly what makes this life an adventure.  And so, here we go adventuring!  Wish me luck...

:-)

So much good.

A few months ago, I stumbled across a delightful video about Caine's Arcade, an imaginative arcade hand-built entirely out of cardboard by an innovative nine-year-old boy.

Today I stumbled across a follow-up to Caine's story.

This video reminded me, again, that there is so much good in the world.  I am a worrier by nature.  This is not to say that I am not hopeful, I am not happy, and I am not faithful.  But I have learned that, unless I am careful, it is easy for me to become overwhelmed by the uncertainty and unkindness that seems to pervade our society.  The good news is that, by and large, those things only seem to be pervasive.  Yes, there is unkindness.  Yes, there is uncertainty.  But I am certain that there are far more people than we realize who are in it to encourage others and help them recognize their value and true worth.

I am grateful for that reminder today.  :-)

Unexpected

One of the unexpected challenges I found in writing a dissertation was the isolation of the process.  I am a person who thrives on collaboration, the sharing of ideas, and feeling the camaraderie of being with people.  By design, doctoral training becomes increasingly isolated as you delve further into your own area of study.  By and by, you have forged into a territory that is relatively uncharted and you are largely alone both professionally (not many others are studying exactly what you study - you are creating a unique niche for yourself...) and physically (people leave you alone because you're dissertating...).  For me, this was compounded by the fact that most of my closest doctoral friends graduated ahead of me and moved on.  I was the last of a particularly unique cohort of students to finish.  A few weeks ago, I selfishly worried about the fact that, God-willing I finished this degree, I would have no one to celebrate with.

I should never have worried about a thing.  I have been stunned by the outpouring of love and support I have received from so many.  This support has come from both those I was aware of and those I had no idea were following my progression in my little corner of the world.  It has truly been incredible.

A few days before I defended, my younger brother sent me a text in which he hypothetically asked, were I to receive a delivery of some sort, when would be the best day for such a hypothetical delivery to arrive.  I responded and went along on my merry way.

Sure enough, the day I had designated, a guest buzzed at my apartment asking if there was a Dr. in the house.  Indeed there was. :-)  I met the florist deliveryman halfway down the stairs and thanked him for the flowers.

As I carried it into my apartment, I noted it was a rather beautiful bouquet.

And then a small little detail came into focus.

And my jaw dropped.

I was stunned to see this ridiculous little button.  Let me back up about, oh, eleven or twelve years.

Many moons ago, I was gifted this button for some occasion long forgotten.  Perhaps it came from a visiting teacher?  A coworker?  I have no recollection of where this button actually hailed from, but I do remember I passed it along to my brother telling him that I was giving it to him because he was, after all, a very special person.

He politely refused and indicated that I needed the button because I was just as special, nay more special than him, and should probably declare it so to the world by wearing it proudly on my person at all times.

I tossed it back his way.  He frisbee'd (yes, I made that a word) it to me.  I threw it at him and ran out of the room, yelling all the way, "But you're just SO special!  You deserve it!!"

The next morning the button was unexpectedly pinned to my backpack.

I dropped it in his coat pocket on the way out the door.

He left it on my pillow.

And thus began the passing back and forth of the button.  I remember putting it in his lunch bag.  He put it above the visor in my car and it plopped into my lap when I flipped it down.  The frequency with which I've seen the button ebbs and flows.  At one point, I realized I hadn't seen the button for several weeks.  I assumed he still hadn't discovered it tucked into one of his books on his bookshelf.  Imagine my surprise when I flipped my couch cushion over one day to see it happily pinned to the underside of the cushion.  Who knows how long it had been there?!

Now, the last time I was physically at my brother's house was about 2 1/2 years ago.  I saw the button sitting on the back of his kitchen counter in a cup full of knickknacks.  I just assumed that after 10 years of passing it back and forth, perhaps he'd had enough and I didn't say anything.

But, no. He was just biding his time until he pulled out the big guns and mailed it to Nebraska so a florist could shock me with a button I hadn't seen for more than 2 years with a note that said, "Today no one is more special than you."

Well played, Patrick.  Well played.

Never forget, Patrick, that it is actually you who are so special you need a faded and weathered purple button to remind you.  When you least expect it...

p.s. It has made me wonder, though, do other people have a random object they keep passing back and forth???    

What a week

So, I defended my dissertation this week.  After spending, quite literally, thousands of hours thinking about, writing about, collaborating about, analyzing about, and talking about this research I've been doing the last few years, I presented it to the powers that be and they made sure I had an inkling of what I was talking about.

And, just like that, I became a Doctor.

After a friend of mine defended her dissertation, some asked her if she felt taller and she declared that she actually did. After I defended, I totally understood how she felt - I, too, actually felt taller.  I think it had to do with the combination of the lifting of a proverbial burden that felt very real, especially during these last few stressful weeks, and the ability to finally breathe a completely relaxed sigh of relief that literally made me stand just a little bit taller.

It is an interesting thing to put so much focused energy into one particular field of study and dwell there for so much time.  After awhile, you forget that your knowledge is unique or special in any way at all.  It becomes so commonplace to you, you are certain that everyone knows everything there is to know about phonological deficits in children and that there is nothing special about the years you have spent acquiring new knowledge.

And then you stand before a bunch of professors you hugely admire and answer the questions they have about your research.  At some point, you realize they're not just asking you questions to test your knowledge, they're asking you questions because they want to learn from you.  And, if things have gone according to plan, it turns out you actually know a thing or two that you can share with them.  Who knew?

Standing tall with my fabulous mentors

It's been a great week.  :-)

A Happy New Year...

I love the New Year.  Yes, I like the anticipation of what is to come, the realization of possibility that comes with setting new goals.  It is great fun to think about who we want/need to be and the seemingly small changes we can implement that will get us there.

But I think I equally enjoy the process of looking back on the past year and seeing who I am now in comparison to who I was at the beginning of the previous year.  If things have gone according to any semblance of the plan (because, let's be honest, they never go entirely to plan...which is, in my estimation, a great thing - think of all that we'd miss if there weren't surprises along the way??), it is exciting to see the growth that only seemed a distant possibility at the beginning of the year.

In January 2003, I randomly wrote a list of 22 things I had learned in the year 2002, because I turned 22 that year.  Here are a couple of things I had learned that year:

"#3 - I have learned the importance of following the Spirit the first time it prompts you."
"#11 - I have learned how to put one foot in front of the other, face the music, run the gauntlet, and keep from totally freaking out even when I'm standing before a particular task, person, supervisor, or client totally scared spitless."
"#18 - I have learned more intensely my serious love of Muddy Buddies."

I didn't know it then, but thus began a really fun tradition.  Every January, I sit and write what I learned the previous year - I think of enough things equal to the number of my age.  I now have a firsthand account of 10 years of growth and change, change that spans my 20's and into my early 30's.

Today, I went through and found each of these entries.  It has been interesting to see what has largely stayed the same...

  - almost every year, there is an entry that goes something like:

"#5 (2005)- I learned (again!) that I LOVE being an Aunt."

...and it has been interesting to see what has changed...

"#19 (2004):  I learned that cooking main dishes scares me."

#8 (2007):  I learned how to cook: a duck, pesto lasagna, meatloaf, and chive/cheese cornbread."

"#21 (2002):  I learned that I love being in the Singles' Ward!"

"#1 (2010):  I learned that...it's time to leave the Singles' Ward.  Ugh."

Generally speaking, the learning spans the seemingly mundane...

"#2 (2005):  I learned how to drive a clutch."

"#8 (2004):  I learned that having a Master's Degree pays off, literally."

"#4 (2006):  I learned that car accidents are a big inconvenience."

"#27 (2011):  I learned that I can survive a hello hard statistics course."
"#28 (2011):  I learned that I usually don't start crying over this hello hard statistics course until after 8+ hours have gone into the assignment/project.  Or it's past 11:00 p.m."

...the delightful...

"#3 (2006):  I learned that roadtrips with friends and/or family are loads of fun."

"#14 (2011):  I learned how to collect brain data - and saw my own brain waves!"

"#5 (2008):  I learned how to kayak!"

...but there are usually some weightier matters too...

"#22 (2003): I learned the importance of remembering that God loves everyone, not just me."

"#18 (2011):  I learned that I hate suicide."

"20 (2008):  I learned the pain that comes from watching people you love turn away from Truth."

"#2 (2004):  I learned that I can appear confident, even when I don't feel confident."

These yearly reflections have created a unique measuring stick for progression in my life.  I wasn't aware of it until I looked at these lists altogether in the same day, but I'm relieved to see that there is a relative degree of balance in the things I am learning from year to year.  I hope I am never satisfied with focusing all of my efforts in one single area of my life.  Here's to well-roundedness!

And so, today, I will add another list to my little stockpile of Things I Have Learned.  As per usual, I did actually set some goals for 2012.  I printed off some little placards at the beginning of the year to remind me of my goals throughout the year.

I'm happy to say some have been achieved...

Done.  May 12, 2012.

Done.  Yippee!  Now, to go again... 

Did 2!

I'm 2/3 there.  Trust me.  That counts. 

This picture always makes me laugh.  Because it's kind of true. 

While I'll just have to keep working on others...

Here's to 2013!  

Happy New Year, everyone!

The reason for all of this

Every once in awhile, this PhD business gets a little overwhelming.  I kinda feel like I've been doing this forever, and while I have learned some amazing things about myself, academics, and not to mention speech pathology, every once in awhile I contemplate packing it in, moving into a yurt on the Oregon coast and doing nothing but knitting, baking, and chilling at the beach.  When I get to that point, I know it is time to zip up my proverbial (and actual) backpack, head home and return the next day.

But then there are those times that I remember why I decided to do all of this in the first place.  Watching a student finally get a tough concept, witnessing the transformation of students from relatively clueless undergrads into budding researchers, engaging in stimulating discussions that seek to ensure all children have the skills to be good communicators.  I love those moments.

But, the real reason I'm stoked to be in academia?  When the stars align just right, someone will pay for you to travel. 

I recently returned from an amazing little Research Summer School/Camp in The Netherlands. 

Countryside in The Netherlands from a beautiful bike ride.  (photo courtesy Sarah Katz)

The incredibly unique experience of participating in an international student gathering of this sort deserves a whole post on its own.  Let's just say that spending 5 days with 46 people from 15 different countries was definitely a Storyworthy Experience.  

After my five days researching it up, because I was there and the flight was covered, I thought I might as well take advantage of my location and play.  So, play I did.  I "convinced" my friend Kendra to meet me in Amsterdam after the conference.  What an AWEsome time was had.  A few highlights...

I loved Amsterdam.  

And, no, not for the reason(s) that others love Amsterdam.  The sheer presence of history was astounding there.  And the bikes!  The cheese!  So many things I love all in one glorious place.  Highlight of Amsterdam?  Discovering Pannenkoeken, or Dutch Pancakes.  Well, more precisely, discovering that Dutch Pancakes are what was hands down my favorite breakfast for my entire growing up - something we Cabbages have always called Phankutchens.  We never knew where they came from (my mom found the recipe in a random cookbook of hers).  I had no less than 5 Pannenkoeken during my time in Amsterdam.  

This represents the union of two of my favorite things on this planet:  phankutchens and nutella.  All was right with the world in this superb moment.

We decided to stop in Bruges, Belgium solely because of The Chocolate Museum mentioned in one of Rick Steves' guidebooks (yes, I am a loyal fan of Rick Steves.  Have been for years.).  Highlight of Bruges?  Two things.  First off, Hotel ter Brughe.  This hotel was originally built circa the 1500's and had some amazing European charm.  It even smelled old, in a completely quaint way. 

The view from our hotel room window.

Thing two?  We rented a couple of bikes and rode through/around the city to get to The Four Windmills of Bruges.  

I'm not sure if it was the magic of riding a bike again without a helmet (no one has helmets there...) or riding up and down the cobblestone streets and trails.  But, regardless, it hit the spot.  Oh, wait.  Third highlight?  AMAZING chocolate.  Belgian chocolate really is all that it's cracked up to be: heaven in a box.

As Kendra and I were planning our little excursion, we debated back and forth whether or not to make a stop in Paris.  In the end, we decided to go for a day.  Yep, we spent 24 hours in Paris.  That was enough time to stop and see The Eiffel Tower, take a boat tour on the River Seine, eat crepes and shop in a Parisian market.  

'Twas a little windy.

For some reason, we had more language issues here than any other place we went.  A highlight?  Buying perfume for my sister-in-law (who requested I find her some Parisian perfume.  Yes, she wanted me, someone who has donned nary a fragrance in her entire adult life, to find and select some delightfully-smelling parfum) from this Frenchman whose name I wish I knew.  

Guy?  Jacques?  Martin?  No idea.  But, he was delightful.

Last stop, London.  How do I choose one single highlight from London?  Would it be the postage stamp dorm room we opted to stay in (how did I not get a picture???)? the most amazing fish'n'chips I've ever had (that is not hyperbole, by the way. It really was the most amazing fish'n'chips I've ever had...)? finding Platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross Station?

strolling the shops of Covent Garden Market? people-watching in Hyde Park? exploring the history of The Tower of London? 

  No, you know what I think the highlight was?  

At the end of a long day of walking (I'm not sure how many miles we walked that day, but we figured it was in the 6-8 mile range), we got off the train at our stop and made our way to the corner grocery market (Budgens) to pick up something to eat because we were too exhausted to find a restaurant at that hour.  Something about munching on that cheese, berries, and crackers along with some Viennetta (do you remember Viennetta?  That ice cream-y dessert from the 90's?? Oh, yeah, that deliciousness is still all over Europe...) as we sat on our beds chatting was surprisingly fantastic.  I'm not sure it was the highlight of London, per se, but that moment perfectly encapsulated the fact that I was on an amazing trip with a very good friend doing something seemingly simple and mundane, and it was completely delightful.

Kendra and I.  We make pretty great travel buddies.

So, what's the point?  Yes, I'm getting a PhD for several good and noble reasons (bettering the lives of people who struggle to communicate, teaching those that come after me how to speech-pathologize, blah blah blah), but this month, I discovered another reason to continue slogging my way through this PhD and beyond.

Travel, y'all.  There's SO much of the world out there, and I want to see it.  Who knew someone might actually pay for me to do it???

That's reason enough.

Ode to Katy v. 2005

So, I'm super excited today.  Why?  As of this day, July 23rd, 2012 (I started this a couple of weeks ago...), I have now officially lost 100 (yes, 100) pounds from the heaviest I ever was.   This is cause for celebration, y'all.  Do I have more to lose?  Heck yes, but oh is this milestone exciting.

To be honest, I'm not sure when I reached my peak weight, but judging from pictures of the era, it had to have been circa 2004.  I was a big girl.  For most of my life, excepting prior to the age of 10 or so, I've been what Sears used to call "Pretty Plus" (if that's not the most ridiculous moniker...).

I recently dug up some photos of the 2004 era and was surprised at the reminder of what I looked like then.   

(At the Tillamook Cheese factory in Tillamook, Oregon - YUM - hence, the cow I'm standing next to.  I was on a road trip to the Oregon coast with my sister and having a fantastic time.)

(At a summer barbeque with friends.  I can't explain the shirt and what's happening with that business.  No idea.)

I'd like to point out that in both of these pictures, I am genuinely smiling.  I was happy.  I was not depressed, I didn't hate myself, I didn't think that "if I just got skinny, I'd be happy".  At this time, I had just finished my Master's Degree in Speech-Language Pathology, I'd learned how to work with all different kinds of kids and I loved my work.  As I said, I was happy.  

Here I am now, in early July of this summer. With my four siblings.

 I'd like to point out that in this picture, I'm genuinely smiling.  I am happy.  I'm not depressed and I don't hate myself.  I do not think that "if I just get skinny, I'll be happy".  I'm nearing the end of my doctoral program and I'm excited for what lies ahead (I'm comin' for you, Boston...).  I assure you, I am so happy.

And now, my point.  I am significantly bothered by a culture which says that to be fat is to be shameful, unhappy, and (most worrisome) disgusting.  There are a plethora of pins on pinterest dedicated to the reminder that there is little worse in this world than being overweight.  I disagree.  I won't rattle off the various and sundry horrid character traits that I would hope, when push comes to shove, we would all agree would be more devastating to an individual/family/country than being overweight.  My weight is independent of my value as a person.  Being fat does not equal bad.  Why is there confusion about this in our society?  I was happy as a big girl, I am happy as a less big girl.  I wish we could perpetuate this ideal - being a good person is not related to your weight, I promise.

This is not to say that I have not become a huge proponent for health.  What do I love about being 100 pounds lighter than I used to be?  My brain is never occupied by worrying about whether or not I can physically do something.  I am always willing to give it a go.

I can jog for 2, 3, 4 miles, with ease.

I routinely ride my bike to work, on errrands, for fun.

I've kayaked.  Backpacked.  Joined a gym.  Adventured.

There're the seemingly silly things too.  I can cross my legs comfortably at church.  I can sit on the floor for hours, if needed.  I don't hesitate to climb into the backseat of a two-door vehicle.  I take up only my seat on an airplane.  I never worry about fitting into an amusement park ride - it never even crosses my mind that I might not (it used to).  If you've never been overweight, you might be surprised that these are the kind of things "pretty plus" people worry about. (see, what a stupid name..."pretty plus"...)

How did I get here?  Well, that is why this an Ode to Katy v. 2005.  I didn't put those pictures up there to invoke shame or embarrassment at who I was in 2005.  The truth is, I am incredibly proud of that girl.  I owe my current state to the girl who made a decision to just go for a walk every day.  She could not see what lay ahead, how life changing that seemingly small decision would be.

And so it began.  I set a goal to go for A WALK five days a week.  In the beginning, and this was important (I had no idea just how important it was), my self-imposed rule was to go down to the trail along the Columbia river and walk.  At first, sometimes that walk was literally 10 minutes long - 5 minutes down the trail and 5 minutes back.  I'd like to point out that it was not because I couldn't walk further, but I was usually sure that I didn't have any more time in my day than that 10 minutes.  Because I had permission to count 10 minutes as "a walk", I unknowingly established a pattern of exercise in my life.  After awhile, I found that I looked forward to that walk I was taking every day after work.  Pretty soon it morphed into a routine 20-minute walk.  And then I realized that the trail had mile markers and heeeeeeeyyy, look at that, I was walking over a mile every day.

Then I started walking just a little bit farther.  And a little bit farther.  And then I discovered This American Life podcasts, which are just under an hour long.  I invoked another self-imposed rule:  I could only listen to the podcasts while on a walk.  And then I started getting up to go walking before work and found I could easily do 3 miles in the morning.  And then I decided that I'd do 3 miles in the morning and "finish my walk" after work with another mile.  And then I decided that I'd "finish my walk" after work every day with 2 miles.

And then.

And then.

Little by little, I continued to add challenges for myself.  I added jogging.  I added biking.  I found I liked pushing myself to do and be more.  Through all of this, I paid little to no attention to my weight.  I was proud of being happy with who I was and was unwilling to cling to a number on a scale to validate my happiness.  This past January, after over 300 weeks of exercising (yes, I continue to draw happy little stick figures on my calendar every day I exercise...as I have since I first started those little walks.  If you're curious, this week was Week 331.), I decided to buy a scale to see how changing some food habits would affect my weight.

Since then, I've lost 45 pounds (turns out, there were definitely some things needing some tweaking in my eating habits).  I have not fad-dieted.  I've simply tracked my food intake and worked at eating real food.  Whole grains, fresh produce, meals from scratch.  I still eat sugar/dessert, but I'm careful about when and how much.

So, why do I share all of this?  Perhaps it's because I like to believe that I am living proof that small steps can yield incredible strides forward.  I am 100% positive that anyone can do this.  No personal trainer.  I didn't join a gym until 8 months ago and then it was because I was tired of exercising in the freezing cold and ice.  In 2005, I had no way of knowing what my life would look like in 2012.  Almost having a PhD?  100 pounds lighter?  Jogging for 4 miles?  Living in Nebraska?  No way.

So, Katy v. 2005: props to you, my friend.   You are pretty stinking amazing.

May the awesomeness continue.  Forever and always.  :-)