One Week

(Oh, yeah. We "made" a gingerbread house, too. Kind of.)

Yesterday marked the one week mark until I go home for Christmas. It's almost surreal that I'm even going home. If it weren't for all of you reading this, I wouldn't be. But Friday I'll be on a plane back to Los Angeles. I'm both incredibly excited... and absolutely terrified.

As many of you know, my family has been going through a very rough time. My brother is awol most of the time, my father ignores his problems and escapes to Big Bear. Really, the only sane one left is my sister. Which I'm thankful for, because I at least have one house of sanity to run to. But I'm incredibly nervous about what Christmas will bring. It obviously won't be the same, but how not the same is left wide open. I have no idea what to expect, and that scares me. I never like entering a new situation completely unarmed. I'm fiercly protective of Christmas, and each one seems to get a little worse. I'm hoping for the best, but keeping a few contingency plans in the works.

I have no idea what home will be like. I've never been away this long, and I'm nervous that I'll no longer have a place among all my friends. I've definitely changed, and while I think it's for the better, I don't know how anyone will react. Sure, this is all speculation, but I've honestly got no idea what will happen when I step off that plane.

I also have no idea how rent will be paid. I'm only working two weeks this month, and I've already spent a good chunk of paycheck on getting things ready for my trip. God provides, but I'm never sure exactly how much. Yes, some voice in my head says "everything," but c'mon. I wouldn't be me if I didn't worry.

What I do know is that Christmas lights looks much, much better when there's snow on the ground, and I have officially walked in temperatures in the teens. It hasn't snowed much, and so far driving is okay. I can scrape ice with the best of them, and I haven't slipped and fallen once! Okay once, but I tripped on a stick, not the ice. It totally doesn't count. People saw me, though, so that was embarrassing. Noel Night in downtown Detroit was really fun, even if I had a headache the whole time. I'm in love with the DIA, and I can't wait to go back and spend hours looking at art from all over the world. I really enjoy Detroit, and wish I could spend more time there. I'll always have a thing for cities. We understand each other.

C and I went to Holly, and missed the tree lighting ceremony, but walked around a bit. You really do go back in time when you step onto the streets of downtown Holly. The shops are adorable, and filled with cute nick-nacks and made-in-Michigan products. I bought my favourite chips in the world (Factory tortilla chips), and had some tasty creme soda! All in all, it was a fun (if freeeeeezing) night!

I'm going home in SIX DAYS. I miss my dog like no one's business. I'll miss my cat about the same. I got him a scratching post to distract him from my absence. I hope it works. Three weeks is a long time to be away. I'll desperately miss game night, but I'm excited for all the other nights I get to spend in the company I've missed for the past eight and a half months.

I can still use a whole lot of prayer, if you're up for it. Financially, spiritually, emotionally... these past eight and a half months have been bumpy, to say the least. Keep those good vibes coming! And I'll see you in six days, Southern California!

I had a huge, long post about my Halloween and what's been going on in life, but it got deleted by Blogger, and I seriously don't feel like rewriting it all.

Went to Cedar Point, Halloweekends, and it was remarkable like Knott's Scary Farm, but better because it had a few different things than I am used to. All in all, it was incredibly fun and I am very glad I went!

Halloween was kind of a disappointment, but it always is, so I'm not sure why I always expect something else. Still hoping to go clubbing sometime before December. We'll see. Dressed as Tonks, though, and I make a damn good one.

Went to both my first pumpkin patch AND first cider mill. Pumpkin patch was AMAZING, and everything I pictured from books and movies and such. The cider mill was slightly disappointing (I really wanted an apple orchard, I guess), but there was free wine tasting and I stuck my head through a giant apple, so win!

Violin Monster invited me out for a drink.. and then it only lasted an hour. I really don't understand boys, and they are insanely frustrating. Waiting until April is really going to suck, but I'll keep trying, damnit.

VM, if you're reading this, skip over that part and continue below. Thanks!

School is kicking my ass, work is never enough, but c'est la vie. I'm used to it by now.

I can really only think about going home at this point. I'm counting down the days until December 16th (32 now!), and seeing my lovely friends and family. Home is eclipsing everything else in life right now. I've even started charting what my three weeks will look like. It's actually a lot harder than it sounds (I'm way more popular than I know how to handle), and getting a bit frustrating. But! I will be home, and everything will be fine. End of story.

I'm totally neglecting homework and two papers right now. I should do them, but I really don't want to. Maybe over Thanksgiving break.

I miss you all, I love you all, I'll see you all in December!

Ask, and You Shall (hopefully) Receive

No, this isn't a legitimate update on my life in Ann Arbor. Suffice to say that school is kicking my ass, I don't get enough days at work and at the moment my throat is too swollen to swallow. What this post is about, is something that is very difficult for me to talk about.


I'm having a hard time with money. I can barely make rent (still working on where this month's is coming from), and that means that there has been no way to save up to get me a flight home for Christmas. A lot of negative stuff has been happening in my family's lives lately, and all I really want to do is go home so I can be with them. The problem is that I can't get there, and no one in the family has enough money to lend me themselves.

So what this post is, is a plea to all my friends, family and followers out there. You'll see a little button on the side of my blog that says "Send Kimmy home for Christmas!" and has a "DONATE" icon underneath it. Clicking this sends you to PayPal, a completely secure website, where you can indeed donate whatever amount to my fund. This is in no way a requirement to read my blog, or is it mandatory because I know you. It's just a question, a request.

I would love more than anything to get home for Christmas. This is the longest I've ever been from home, and I grow increasingly homesick every week.

Please don't feel obligated. I have a very hard time asking for charity, but I know when I need help.

God always, ALWAYS provides, but sometimes you have to ask for help first.

Thanks so much if you give, or even if you took the time to read this. I really appreciate every bit of support (financially, emotionally, and in between) that you guys give me. I couldn't have even moved here without you.

I will do my best to update this more often. My other blog (americanhaunts.blogspot.com) takes up a lot of time, as well as school and work, but I really need to be writing down my experiences here more. I'll do my best.

Thanks, again, and I hope to see you all at Christmas!

Kimmy

Holidays, Haunts and Hotel Rooms (part 2)

Well! Friday was such a success, that I knew Saturday would be as well. Having decided to slough off the Pictured Rocks in exchange for seeing more than one thing in a day for free, we set out for Paradise (the town. This wasn't some Thelma and Louise adventure, and certainly no one drove off the side of the Grand Canyon), meandering our way through the UP. First, however, we had to make a little pit stop in Calumet (Cal-you-met, apparently), MI. Just a little north and east from Houghton, Calumet looks like it comes straight out of the old mining days. In fact, it looks exactly like old mining towns out west. I was immediately enraptured by this place. Every building seemed to be older than one hundred years old! The church looked like a miniature copy of St. Louis' Cathedral in New Orleans. The gift shops, and even the Curves had fronts that defied modernity. I kept telling C how much I felt I was under dressed. Surely this kind of town warranted costume all year round. I needed to be in a long, probably dusty, dress. Something sort of frilly, but not too expensive.

Every building seemed better than the last, until we walked up to what we had been searching for- The Calumet Theatre. When it opened in 1900, it was said to be the "greatest social event ever known in copperdom's metropolis." Or, so it says on the plaque just outside the building. It is really beautiful- the architecture is very Spanish and very old- arches everywhere, brick and what I assumed to be adobe, or something like it. The inside, or what little we got to see of it (there was an event going on at the time), is still done up like it would have been when it opened- there are ornate moldings everywhere, mostly done in white with red trim. The stadium seating overlooks a small, but big enough stage. The bathrooms look.. well, like bathrooms. Those weren't so impressive. What is impressive, however, is the ghost. All theatres have them, whether they be terrors in the night, or helpful, comforting presences. Thankfully the ghost in the Calumet is one of those comforting ones.

Said to be the ghost of a Polish actress from the period, the strange goings-on here have been witnessed since 1958, when an actress on stage forgot her lines and a feminine voice whispered them in her ear. Calumet claims to be the home of Helena Modjeska, a famous actress who made a living traveling from theatre to theatre around the country. But wait! I'm saying too much! If you want to know more, check out my other blog. The link will be at the bottom. ;)

We didn't stay long in Calumet, since we wouldn't be able to get a decent view of the theatre anyway. I bought an old key from the copper shop, and we were on our way! Having heard of Copper Harbor, and always wanting to be the "only of my friend to ever do _______", we went as far north as we could in Michigan! Copper Harbor is absolutely beautiful, and the drive is easy and just as colourful. Green was everywhere I looked, and I felt a million miles from people- and it was a good thing. Copper Harbor itself is a little town (does it have that status?) with friendly people and a lot of visitors. We ate at a place right by the water, and I regret now that I didn't take a picture of the name so I'd remember it. But pasties and pizza were had, and all was well. Two of my favourite foods, on one plate. Simply amazing. It was a decent pasty, beef with gravy, and some of the best pizza I have ever had. They put so many spices and garlic and everything on it! I miss it already. We hung out at the Thunderbird gift shop across the street for a little while, and I ended up buying a book on all the hauntings of the UP. Typical me. But afterward, we spotted a candy shop and there was no stopping Crysta.

The place was amazing! It had every kind of candy I used to get as a kid, most of what Crysta used to get, and I'll bet my dad would have a great time reminiscing about candy from his youth. They even had those little candy cigarettes you can't get in California anymore because they look too much like cigarettes! Where was this candy shop all throughout my cosplaying days? Alas, up here. 2,000 miles away in the great north. But! We got a haul, anyway, made up mostly of Bubblicious, because it's ridiculous that no one makes actual bubblegum anymore.

After began our long, long drive to Paradise. Well, Paradise, Michigan, anyway. We're not Thelma and Louise, and all we'd be driving off into is a giant lake. But! I did get to stop and take a picture in front of the house where my mentor's husband grew up in Marquette. That was pretty spectacular. I have a thing for people's backgrounds. This was like getting a glimpse into the past, and it was great! However, all that driving (and we were only halfway there) makes one incredibly hungry. After some driving around, and shaking up my UrbanSpoon app (love that thing), we found Jean Kay's Pasties, a little north of Northern Michigan University. Instead of pasties, however, we opted for sandwiches and, I have to tell you, DILL PICKLE CHIPS.

I cannot stress how good these things are. THEY TASTE LIKE PICKLES. IN CHIP FORM. I'm addicted to them, and can't bear to throw away the tiny bit left in the bag on the counter (still). I had no idea chips like this existed! How glorious! How delicious! How.. odd! But they do! And C says there's a place near us that sells them. What joy can be found!

Hmm.. I digress. After devouring my chips and sandwich, we hopped back in the car, with C at the wheel, and resumed our journey to Paradise. Michigan gets really dark at night. Like.. really. Dark. And seriously, there are too many deer up here. And none of them know what cars are, or why they should avoid them. Thankfully we saw no accidents, but I was honestly scared for my life driving in pitch black with occasional eye shines peeking out from the bushes along the side of the road. But finally, fiiinally, we arrived in Paradise, which is.. well.. not much. Our motel looked like this:

Yeah. It looked like my house in the 70's (okay, the 90's, but back off). The lock was.. minimal, and the bath mat said "bath mat" and was made out of paper. But, it was a cheap room to stay in, so who can really complain? The bathroom was clean, hell the room was cleaner than the one we'd stayed in the night before.

So, without knowing much about our surroundings, we watched The Soup and Fashion Police, then drifted off to fitful nights of sleep in a room in which I was sure we were going to be murdered.

Stick around for Day three!

Holidays, Haunts and Hotel Rooms.

*

Well! I just got back from one of the best vacations of my life! I suppose I better recount it now while everything is still fresh in my incredibly tired mind.
First, there are a few terms you'll need to be acquainted with before I start the story of my past four days:

1. UP- Upper Peninsula; this is the other half of Michigan that no one on my side of the country seems to remember. It's that part of land that's not Wisconsin.
2. Yooper- This is the name for the natives of the UP.
3. Pasty- (Pass-tee, not Pays-tee); these are like pot pies, but a million times better and can be hand held. Also, the gravy goes on the outside, like it should.
4. Mackinac/Michillimackinac- Pronounced Mak-in-aw and Mish-ill-i-mak-in-aw.

Alright, are we good? Great! Let's begin.

We left Friday morning around 8:30, after stopping by the office to retrieve C's lost credit card. The entire trip up to Houghton, Michigan took about ten hours, with us stopping along the way for gas and doing our best to not stop for food. The trip up was a rather uneventful one, save for a few teeny towns (villages, more likely) and my first time driving over the Mackinac bridge! If you've never seen it, the Mackinac bridge is a sight to behold. Spanning much, much longer than our famed Golden Gate, this bridge is a lovely shade of green and crosses over one of the deadliest pieces of water in America. I also consider it to be one of the most beautiful. Standing in front of the bridge, on either the Lake Michigan or the Lake Huron side, is both humbling and awe-inspiring. I truly felt small, which is a hard thing to make me feel. I fell in love with the Mackinac bridge last July when I first visited Michigan. It was right there! I stood underneath it! If only I could've driven over it... but that would have to wait a year and a month. I took pictures in front of it, and that was fine then. We had an island to scurry off to. But I finally got my chance to drive over it (I have a thing about driving over bridges) Friday afternoon. It took so much longer than driving over the Golden Gate, and the view was spectacular! But where I really wanted to be lay over the six minute route over the bridge.

I fell in love with the UP long ago, when the two people I knew from there would use the accents and tell me stories of life up north. It's seemed like this mysterious other country to me (and apparently to a lot of people), and somewhere I would instantly love. And when the wheels of C's Honda Fit touched the ground on the other side of the bridge I knew just how in love I would be.It really does feel like you're crossing into Canada. There is a toll for the bridge, and I half expected the nice woman in the booth to ask for my passport. But we paid the $3.50 and zipped on in!

There are two things I immediately noticed about the UP: 1. That everyone is incredibly nice and everyone goes the speed limit (thank goodness. Michigan was starting to give me a complex), and 2. That Yoopers only eat pasties, pizza, smoked fish, ice cream and jerky. Sometimes at places that offer all of the above and have a moose on the sign out front. Yoopers, feel free to disagree, but you can't deny that as soon as you cross the bridge you're bombarded with pasty and ice cream shops all along highway 2. We were determined not to spend anything but gas money on the way to Houghton, however, so we forewent the pasties and played in Lake Michigan instead! The weather was perfect, slightly cloudy and with a strong wind. The water was chilly, but still felt nice on my tired feet. C took over driving, and we sped to Houghton. After all, we were on a time schedule.

Houghton is like any college town should be. It's full of students (especially when you get there the weekend before classes start), places to eat and shops to buy in. We stayed at a Travelodge that was less than ideal, but that's not the part I want to tell you about. We had just enough time to change, grab a bite to eat from a fast food place and hightail our way to Paulding, and the mysterious, freakishly regular light.

So, if you're friends with me you've probably heard me talk a lot about the paranormal. In fact, if you've known me for five minutes you probably have heard me talk of the paranormal. The Paulding Light is something I've been researching over the past year, pretty much when I decided to move to Michigan. If you haven't heard of it, the Paulding Light is a phenomenon that happens on a nightly (or near nightly) basis out in the wood between Watersmeet and Paulding, just off highway 45. Said to be an old railroad brakeman who died on the job, the Paulding Light is his lantern signalling long gone trains on the old railroad tracks. While I don't know if that's true or not, I can tell you that the light itself is very real. It came on a little after sunset, shining brightly in the distance (I'm terrible with distance, but it could have been a mile away), and then fading and flickering out. It repeated this process for some time, and eventually an entire crowd of fifty people had gathered to watch with us. Where we had been the only light at sundown, by the time we left around ten o clock, tens of people had come and gone and were still watching. That's not the only amazing part, however. The light (and this happened only after more people had arrived to see it) changed colour! Much like the lights on a train, or the lanterns a brakeman would've used (I'm guessing), the light changed from white to red more than a few times. It really looked like a train coming and going! I have no idea how long the light went on after we left, but we stood there for a good two hours, watching the light flicker, get brighter and change colour. Honestly, it was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen! I've had my fare share of ghostly experiences, but this one goes right to the top!

Afterward, we made the hour and a half trek back to Houghton and got some sleep. Well, sort of. I don't do well the first night in any new place. I didn't sleep much, but that's no matter.

I'll be posting Day 2 of our haunted adventure through the UP soon!

*note: Picture not taken by us. Just hilarious.

Crysta stole my title!

It really sucks when so much is happening around you that you can't write it down later because it's all jumbled in your head. I'm stuck with Writer's Block even though there's so much to write about.

Mom coming for the day a few Saturdays ago was a blessing. I know it seems weird for a grown adult to want parents around... but I really miss them. Mom (Teri, Crysta's mom, to those of you who think I'm going nuts) is a perfect substitute for my dad and Pat. She's absolutely wonderful, and spending the day with her in downtown A2 made me happier than I've been in a while. I love being out here on my own, but I really enjoy being in the company of a parent. Yeah, that's weird, but true. We ate at my favourite pub (the shepherd's pie is brilliant. Not Chelsea's, but brilliant). We stayed around town due to Crysta's hurt finger and the weather, but it was more than I could've asked for. I was more than sad when she couldn't stay the night, or go to Game Night with us. We ended up not going, but still!

Something I hadn't ever done before was pick blueberries! I must say, other than the mosquitoes being absolutely atrocious, I had a lot of fun! Crysta and I drove out to Dexter to a blueberry farm where you can pick your own (for a really cheap price). We got our buckets and set off into the groves. A lot of them had been picked over, but us being taller than most of the children that usually went picking,  managed to snag quite a bit from the back of the bushes. Crysta made deeelicious blueberry scones. I think I've got one left, but I demand more. They, despite being small berries apparently, are really tasty. I hope I can do that again, if/when I'm here next year. Hopefully the foreign strain of mosquitoes around here will have died off come winter. I loved being outside in the field like that, carrying my bucket and picking berries. It felt homey and important somehow. Work that felt meaningful, even if we were just out there picking for fun. Plus, going to an A&W for floats after donuts from the Dexter Bakery earlier in the day was brilliant.I must write a story taking place in Dexter. It's the perfect small town that's not too small and not too out of town.

For now, that's all I seem to be able to write. It's short, but I'm documenting my time! Next time, more on my job, and the dreaded chicken story. Plus! Rearranging furniture and anything else I can dig up out of my cluttered brain.

Also, the Hunger Games are some of the best books EVER.