Walkabout, Day 0 and Day 1
Apr. 2nd, 2009 06:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
unforthWell, just to prove that sometimes pulling out the map does apparently coincide with the changing of the light, my doorbell range approximately two minutes after I posted in Facebook that the exterminators were running late (just after 10 am). I settled things with them, and they set about doin' there thing and I packed up the dog and went to the New York Botanical Gardens to kill a few hours...
I really wanted to journal my trip, and that's what I'm doing. So this is going to be kind of introspective and babbling and wandering - as will my other posts about this trip. Consider yourself warned. ;)
I'm calling it Day 0 since today really feels like Day 1 - my first day on the road, my first morning waking up some place different. I had to leave for four hours yesterday and then return home and lock up. Niftily (yay, it's a word!) one of the supers assistants in my building who I've gotten pretty friendly with the last week or so showed me how I can set my door to auto lock, which is very exciting, and meant that I wouldn't have to leave my door unlocked for the four hours that I was away.
I can't say I felt at all enthusiastic about my departure. Quite the contrary. As I drove over to the NYBG and chatted with mom, I seriously considered actually trying to stay in my apartment, despite the center of my living room being completely filled with approximately thirty 95 quart containers plus other various items stacked on top like empty suitcases and my sewing machine (all the contents of my book cases and closets). The weather was chilly, I couldn't wear my coat (I was being super careful about contaminating any additional items of clothing), and with the weather we'd been having I had low expectations of seeing anything at the Gardens to make the trip worthwhile. Thankfully, I was wrong, which perhaps is when my mood starting to improve. It's not like there was loads to see - it is early - but the magnolias were just starting to bloom, they'd planted...crap, what are they called...um...violas (like Johnny Jump Ups) all over the place, and the daffodils were sporadic depending on the availability of sunlight and the traits of the type of the particular breed. I love daffodils, and they can bring a smile to my face pretty much no what, so - sure enough - I was smiling despite the chill (I had a funny conversation with a security guard about the fact that I wasn't cold even though it was in the 40's). In addition, there were a bunch of unusual flowers I never see because I never go so early in the year, and there were the miniature irises which I'd forgotten about (I saw them last year) and which are very beautiful. Add in my second trip through the Orchid Show, and I left in considerably better spirits than I arrived. I headed home, locked up, and took to the road just as the rain started.
As it turns out, it's a very easy trip to Harrisburg (95 to 78 to 81...). I found it to be non-stressful despite the rain that got pretty heavy at times and caused a thick fog to settle in. I left for PA at about 2:00, and checked in to a Best Western at about 5:15, and embarked on my next missions:
1. Obtain dog food. I ran out about two days before departure and had been forcing Jonie to make do with the only appropriate food at my grocery store, but I wanted her back on her normal food ASAP so she wouldn't get a puppy upset stomach.
2. Visit Joann's Fabrics. After a bit of heartbreak, I decided to add my (formerly) current cross stitching project to the quarantine pile (my belongings are in two sets: ones that I can unpack when I get back after the second extermination and ones that I can't unpack for a year because I was unable to otherwise ensure that they were bug free). The alternative would have been to wash all the threads individually, just too much of a pain, and I couldn't pretend there was no danger of infestation, considering that the only two actual bed bugs I've seen were crawling on this same cross stitch. All of which is to say that I decided to take a new project with me, one that I only had a chart for, so I had to go to Joanns to buy fabric and thread to work it.
3. Eat Cracker Barrel. Have I ever mentioned how much I love Cracker Barrel? I know, it's mortifying, but put some mac and cheese and biscuits in front of me, and top it off with their sugar free apple pie, and I'm in some bizarre, middle American version of heaven where the people scare the shit out of me but the food is somehow still worth it.
4. Buy manga. I've been reading tons of manga recently, but of course I couldn't take it with me, and after some worrying about money, I decided that I'd buy some manga for the trip, which required locating a Borders or Barnes and Noble.
As it turns out, all of these missions were easy to accomplish. I was staying at exit 72; and long before I got there I had learned thanks to billboards that there was a Cracker Barrel at exit 68. Meanwhile, when I asked the lady at the check in desk where I could buy dog food, she told me her uncle owned a feed store, and it was very close, and she even called for me and confirmed that they had what I needed. She also told me that there was a Joann's even closer, but that didn't go so well - it wasn't where she said, though when I went back to my room to look it up, even Google Maps said it was there. They also located another that wasn't far either, though, so I went there instead. It has to be the biggest Joann's I've ever seen, and it turns out they'd recently moved (from the no-longer-there location I'd been originally sent to). Meanwhile, directly across the road was a large Borders. So pretty much everything went as perfectly as I could hope, except that the mac and cheese wasn't quite as good as usual (the apple pie made up for it by being even better than I remembered. ;) )
The positive effect of this (having some good luck, spending some cash for the hell of it, getting out here at all) was that I headed back into my hotel feeling much better about things. When I left NYC, I really, really didn't want to be traveling, or doing much of anything at all for that matter. But, have any of you ever noticed how iPods sometimes know what to play (I know it's random)? Well, my iPod managed to hit all my buttons, popping up all the songs that make me reflect and think. Then, to top it off, while I was trying to find a clear radio station, I caught some notes of a song I knew (unusual enough...) that was just starting and heard...
"And you may find yourself in another part of the world...
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile...
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house,
With a beautiful wife,
And you may ask yourself, how did I get here?"
Now, I don't hear "Once in a Lifetime" often, and I don't have it on my iPod, and having it randomly turn up just now? Well, it seemed a little like fate. And it really got me thinking. I tend to play off my own accomplishments. I joke that I don't have a real job, I work for my mom for chrissake. But I DO have a real job, and I work really, really hard at it when the time comes. I take on a lot of risks because I'm self-employed, too. But I get the perks of that - when the time hasn't yet come, or after the time has gone, I'm free again to do things like wander out of state for a few weeks. But that doesn't mean I haven't earned that, and it doesn't mean that I don't have a real job - in fact, it's insulting to the people who stake their hopes of winning literally millions of dollars on my performance (which I take very seriously!) by even joking that I don't have a real job! Cause I do! And there's nothing wrong with the fact that it doesn't work like other peoples.
Case in point - on Tuesday, I gathered up my papers and such and went and did my taxes. This went shockingly well - much better than last year, for example - and thanks in large part to the large deduction caused by my massive student loan interest payments, I didn't owe more than I already had saved (I expected to have to take a big chunk of April's pay check to cover the difference - but I don't have to which means I can put that same chunk towards paying estimated taxes for this year - it means I'm finally catching up, which is great). That's not the point, though. The point is the lady who did my taxes found out what I did. It turns out that she works for a non-profit in Pelham that would like to write some grants, and I warned her that I was pretty expensive but that I'd be willing to look into it. I then told her my going hourly rate (which I've NEVER actually been paid, though perhaps I shouldn't admit that, because legally it's what I'm contracted with NYC to earn for grant writing activities) which is from $150 - $200 per hour. She laughed! She said that was fine! She sounded surprised - because I'd said it was a lot, she must have assumed I meant something even more. I was amazed. But why should I be amazed? This is what I do, and no one who meets me for the first time knows I'm just some "kid" who wasn't even educated in this field - and why should they ever know that unless I tell them? Especially since it's ceasing to be true - in June, I'll have been working for HEC for 7 years, in May I'll have been editing grants for 4 of those years, and as of this past March I've been writing grants for three years. Prior to this last round of grant writing I'd been the lead writer on 10 grants (I think) and secondary writer on another...er...at least 2; of those 12, 8 won; and three of the ones that didn't win were for long shots (as in, out of several hundred applications, only 2 - 4 got awarded in the entire country).
I already knew I was good at what I do. That wasn't the point. The point is that I don't need to be self-deprecating, and I don't need to be defensive. I work for my mom. I make a (by my standards) damn impressive income. I don't have anything to apologize for.
So how did I get here? Some of it was luck. And some of it was natural skill. Some of it was practice through the years. A good chunk of it was taking my lumps through the years, especially concerning writing ability and editing. But I AM here, and from the look of things, if I want to I can continue to be here for a long time. One of the grants we submitted, I'm written in as an independant consultant, which if we win will mark only the second time that I've been paid outside of mom's company for education work. This wasn't my idea, either, it was the clients. More and more, there are clients who want to work with me, in particular. This is a far cry from the first two TAH grants I worked on, when we didn't even tell the clients that I was the one writing their grant, or from every previous grant where we decided not to include my resume for fear that it wouldn't look like I was qualified to do the work I already do. With that history, no wonder I've got some shame - but this time, we did include my resume; this time, I'm named in proposals. Just like everyone else embarking on a professional career, it's taken time to build contacts and reputation, but I'm succeeding at it, and that's all to the good, and now I need to make my mindset catch up with the reality, and stop engaging in some of the habits which could be detrimental now that they aren't really relevant or accurate.
Also, I think it finally sank in for the first time in a long time that underneath the stress, and the times when things aren't great, I really am fundamentally happy. With all the things that happened in March, it was easy to lose sight of that, but now I've got a lot to look forward to. May, June, July and August all have major work assignments in them (lots of evaluation activities in May and June, and year-end reports due at the end of July and August), but April is relatively free and clear (thank god!) and from what I know of my schedule thus far, the fall is also relatively clear. I've got multiple trips planned - Chicago at the end of May for the wedding, Origins at the end of June, Gencon in mid-August, and the trip with my family to London, Paris and Amsterdam in September, meanwhile I'm holding out hope that I'll be able to afford to go to Japan in mid-October and stay for a month (so far this is on track, but I'll have to see how my finances are as summer comes - the Europe trip isn't going to cost me much, but Gencon in particular might get pricey, depending on what art I see...). On top of that, I'm really excited about the upcoming baseball season, and there's lots of other good things on the horizon - and not in that "they're in the distance if only they were within reach way," but in that "I'm driving right for it and will be there soon" way. With all that good - and sure, some bad - fundamentally, what have I got to be unhappy about?
Wait, I still don't have a boy friend. (Seriously, just kidding. ;) )
After a contemplative afternoon and evening, I woke up to a ridiculously foggy morning outside of Harrisburg. On the evening of Day 0, I'd looked at the map and gotten all my directions down, and so I wiled away the morning from when I woke up until it was time to head out - the museum opened at 10, and it was only about 15 minutes away, but I got bored and left at 9:20 anyway, and used the extra time to walk around the park where the museum was located with my dog. It was so foggy that even the top of the museum was hard to see! And though the whole Reservoir Park was on a big hill, I couldn't hardly see the city.
The first thing that struck me about the National Civil War Museum was the walk. It has a commemorative cobble stone walk with the names of the venerable ancestors of donators. I grabbed a pamphlet, and am now considering joining those ranks - after all, my venerable, direct-male-line ancestor, John Milton Houck, served in the 29th Iowa with distinction (I keep thinking I have either the name, the number, or the state wrong, so I just tried to call dad and ask, but he's out, so I guess I won't know until he gets back from his meeting, Paula's promised to tell him I rang...). And by "distinction," of course, I mean did nothing whatsoever of note, got discharged due to dysentery, and lived off his military pension for the remainder of his days. But, hey, I'm proud of it anyway, so why shouldn't he have a block on the walk? :)
I really wasn't sure what to expect from the museum. Anyone who has visited a battlefield knows that within about 5 minutes you'll have passed five places all claiming to be spectacular, unique, amazing experiences for the whole family, come and see all the authentic military artifacts, painting, oh, and try the local cheese! These little "museums" sometimes have one or two things of interest, but they generally occupy one room, cost a buck or two, and are pretty much there to satisfy those with either insatiable thirst for more, or an endless supply of hope that maybe, somehow, the next one will be cooler. Likewise, most battlefields have one small, official museum which contains donated items and archaeological finds. These are usually in visitor centers, and are generally much nicer, but are also usually small, and due to lack of funds often are quite old (not a bad thing in and of itself, but they feel worn).
It was immediately apparent on arrival that the National Civil War Museum was neither of these things. Perched atop a hill in a decent sized park, it looked...like a museum. Nothing else quite looks like that. The facilities were modern and nice and clean, and the inside lived up to the outside - it was a very fine museum. The exhibits were arranged chronologically, and they sketched out the major events leading up to, during, and after the war without really taking sides. Like, the section where they talked about "The Lost Cause" at the end didn't pass judgment on it (as most northern types are wont to do); even slavery - which of course was portrayed as barbaric, how could it not be portrayed as such, when it was? - was well balanced - they had a lot of living history film clips, and while wax manikins told a sad story about a family being ripped apart, a video clip told the story of a house slave who really didn't have it to bad at all. Another example, it talked about Andersonville Prison, but it also talked about the Northern equivalent (the name of which I'm blocking just now) and showed pictures from both - and they equally horrifying (they looked like Holocaust survivors rescued from the camps, that's the only way I can describe it). In short, I liked how fair and balanced it was.
But the real treat was the weapons. I don't know why, but I've always found Civil War muskets and rifles to be really, really cool. I've wanted one since I was about 10 - any one will do - and in fact, I've been tentatively offered a very fine one by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sapphohestia's dad for the princely sum of $4,000 dollars, and I hope that in the next year or two I might actually be able to get it...but I doubt it. (crappy ones that don't work any more and are otherwise damaged can be had for about $1,000.) And this museum had the finest collection of them I've ever seen, Southern and Northern, along with sabres, pistols, revolvers, and all manner of military weaponry. There was one room which was devoted exclusively to equipment - uniforms, arms, canteens, cannon shot, saddles, that kind of thing - I spent more time in that room than anything else, even though it had the least to read, because I was photographing like, everything. ;)
The museum displayed two types of artifacts. On the one hand, there were those that were integral to the conduction of the war, or that gave a feel for how things were, or that made a point - everything from the guns and uniforms to mess kits to surgeons tools to "Pain Bullets" which bear the teeth marks of those who bit into them while having a limb amputated (origin, apparently, of the phrase "bite the bullet"). On the other hand, there were the items that had significance only by association - Lee's gauntlets, a lock of Pickett's hair, some netting off of a chair that apparently belonged to Stonewall Jackson, Grant's personal traveling trunk, that kind of thing. These made for a funny assortment - and some were clearly labeled to indicate that they might not be what they claimed (one bit of rope was "supposedly" used to hang the commandant of Andersonville, for example.) They made an interesting counterpoint, though.
The long and the short of it is, it was well worth the trip, and I'd even happily go back, though I did see everything - with so many shineys, there are surely some I didn't notice. I was there about 3 hours in all, and left with a shot glass, a reprint of a book about the Civil War published in 1866, and some other odds and ends, and set off on the way to Gettysburg.
I got my first opportunity to test my goal of taking things as they come less than 10 minutes after leaving. Driving to the bridge across the Susquehanna, I was ogling the shiny capitol building when I passed a sign for the Pennsylvania Archive and State Museum. After a brief debate, I decided to stop, pumped a dollars worth of quarters into a meter, and walked in (this bought me all of 40 minutes, sigh). It turns out that it was free (good thing) and that it was quite large (bad thing). I proceeded on the lightning tour since I only had 40 minutes (though I ended up chucking my last two quarters in, to get me an hour) and didn't get to read a word of signage but saw some neat things. I also had a funny encounter with the museum staff.
See, the building has these big narrow escalators. Now, I went to high school in a building with escalators, and I'm utterly confident on them - I've gone up down escalators, and down up escalators, and I've run up them when late to class, and I know how to stop them multiple ways in case of emergency, because stopping them was one of those things that a high school student could think was cool to do for the hell of it. Apparently, though, the museum policy is no walking up the escalators.
Wha?
So I got yelled at by some dude for walking up the escalator. I promptly ignored this, and went about my business, and the next time he saw me on the escalator, he said it again, this time backed up, to which I gave back some lip and got a not-at-all-nice reply. Normally, I might even have followed the rules, except I only had 60 minutes to see the entire the museum, it was four floors!! Anyway, I get to the landing on the next floor, out of sight of the two giving me a hard time, but right beside another security dude who had been listening but keeping silent, and I tell him that I'm gonna walk up the next one, and please don't try to stop me, and he goes, "oh, it's okay, I'm not like those guys." Afterwards, he found me in an exhibit and was like, those guys were just being jackasses, I'm an adult and I'm not with children, and what could possibly be the danger in letting me climb the escalator when I clearly know what I'm doing? I can understand a little why they were concerned - while I was there I saw no less than 3 people hesitate before getting on in that tell tale way like they're not used to escalators and find them intimidating. But it was just as obvious that I wasn't like that - so I appreciated being treated like a responsible person by this one guy. And I took the stairs after that, thus avoiding the other schmucks.
It was a nice museum with a curious array of exhibits on natural history, anthropology, and history - top floor was a planetarium and ecology type stuff, including some animal dioramas as nice as the ones at AMNH. They had an entire exhibit on industry on the 3rd floor, which was particularly cool for having all kinds of different transportation, from a 200 year old mail sled to a Model T to an airplane to an automated drone used to clean up after Three Mile Island. They also had a lot of Native American artifacts which I only skimmed, and a small Civil War exhibit. This was actually really neat, because it was a room of paintings, one of which is quite famous and I was happy to get to see. On another floor they had a small town circa 1890s built into the room - all the store fronts, and you could look in and see the products. I love stuff like that, when it's well done, it really brings you to another time. This one wasn't the best I've seen (the best was in the Hong Kong history museum, it was AWESOME) but it was pretty nice. There was an exhibit of WPA Post Office art, too, which I would have liked to get a book for, but they didn't have it.
The highlight, though, was actually not even open yet. They're putting on an exhibit of notable donations they've received in the past 10 years, and it doesn't officially open until the 4th, so I only got to see half of it, but it was really interesting - a strange combination of paintings and works on paper, some modern, some older - I wish I could have seen the rest.
So even though I only had an hour there (while I could have gotten more quarters, the fog had cleared completely while I was in the Civil War Museum and the day was pretty warm, and Jonie was in the car - it didn't seem right even though I'd parked in the shade. With that done, I got back on the road (it was a detour of less than a block!) and drove down to Gettysburg, arriving at about 3. It took me three tries to find a hotel (the Best Western here is in a national historical landmark building, a turn of the 19th century Court House, and so no pets allowed, and the Holiday Inn was, amazingly, booked) but I ended up in the Travelodge.
Sitting around, looking at the map they'd given me at the Best Western, I plotted out what next. It was one of those touristy maps with advertising by local businesses, and I immediately spotted one that I wanted to go to - "Abraham's Lady - Civil War Clothing and Accessories." I've mentioned my interest in reenactment before, and now that I've been forced to pack all my costume stuff into quarantine, I'd been thinking that this was the year to finally make a Civil War dress, so I wanted to see the patterns at this "Abraham's Lady." And it turned out it was right around the corner from hotel (along with a place called the Dobbin House Tavern, which is located in the oldest building in Gettysburg and sports a fine restaurant, and I promptly decided to eat dinner there).
And now, I finally get to today's even that caused reflection, because I'm so, so glad I went into Abraham's Lady. Though I've rambled a lot about the other things I did today, this is the thing that really made me pause and has me reflecting. Here I met a girl named Beth. She's one of the employees, and we started talking about patterns, and moved on from there. The only other person in recent memory who I've hit it off so well with was Shanna. And similarly, this person is also completely inaccessible normally (Shanna is a lady I met at a work conference in December. The conference was in Washington DC. Shanna lives in Salt Lake City, Utah. We get along like a house-afire, and I saw her again at a follow up conference in January, but otherwise have no expectation of seeing her again until next year). Beth, of course, lives here. She loves to travel, she lived in Cologne (she and I were describing the Dom to the other employee) and speaks German, she loves history, she watches anime, and she agrees with me that it's better to just pretend that Sirius Black is alive. In short, in about a half hour (with interruptions because neither of us wanted to get her in trouble - she was working, after all) I got reminded again of just how nice it feels to meet someone and have everything click.
It's got me thinking, but I'm not sure what to do about it yet. Among other things, she's a reenacter, and a sewer, and it just makes me remember that the way to meet people is to go to the places where the folks do what you want to do, and see what happens. That's how I made friends in Bloomington, too. If I'd done in Bloomington what I've done since in NYC, I'd have made no friends there, either. Instead, I went to Game Preserve, and metninja_turbo, and took some chances. Here, I went to the place that sounded most interesting to me...and poof, I met someone! Like, immediately.
It also has me thinking about reenactment. I've been to a couple of reenactments in my time - no big ones though - and even then (long before I was a gamer, much less a LARPer) it was something that I wanted to do. My dad and I talked semi-seriously about giving it a try. I was probably 11 or 12. It didn't end up happening, but still, it represents a long-standing temptation for me. And to meet someone who I'm so compatible with who does it, seems to suggest that there might be more like her. She said that it was all about finding the right company - which makes perfect sense - and when I asked if she might be able to help with that, we traded e-mail addresses. All of which is to say, I'm thinking about it more seriously again. It raises some worries (in particular, unlike when I was a kid and wanted to play a boy soldier, now I'd want to play a lady - which first requires a much more difficult to make costume with different historical accuracy concerns, and second (and more problematic) requires a great deal of knowledge about women's roles and activities, because I'll have to be answer questions. The issue here is that a. I don't know that stuff and b. I don't particularly want to learn it, because I like reading about battles and glory and gore (okay, that's note quite accurate, but it's closer))
Meanwhile, aside from these particular questions, it raises all kinds of thoughts about the process of meeting friends. I have no doubt that if I was local, or even if I was here longer, I'd try to get to know her better. The point isn't so much that's impossible (it's not impossible, there are computers!) but that it doesn't really solve my solid problem: while I've got friends in NYC and the NYC area, I don't have what I had in Bloomington, what I miss from Bloomington. If I can find random people from Gettysburg and Salt Lake City and hit it off with them, I can only believe that what's stopping me from finding people in NYC is the difficulty of making connections, of finding the right kinds of places, or maybe just the dumb luck of finding that person. I mean, if I hadn't sat next to Shanna at the conference, we'd never have met. And even if I'd met her in another context, maybe we wouldn't have gotten along so well. Instead, we've only spent a couple of days together, but on both days we spent hours and hours in each others company and had a great time, and I don't doubt that when we next encounter each other the same thing will happen again, because I think she's really cool (her sister, who I also got to meet, is super cool too) and feel pretty confident that she felt the same way about me. These chances MUST exist closer to me. I keep thinking that if I keep doin' what I do - going to museums, primarily - then these things will happen. But for some reason, they DON'T. And I just don't get it. It makes me wonder if I'm doing something "wrong" - but I don't think I am. It makes me wonder just how much meeting these kinds of people is chance. I can only think of three times it's happened (these two, plus meetingireneadler in Japan, but that was different again, because she was friends with skygawker, who I'd already gotten friendly with over LJ, though we'd never met in person). And all have been within the last two years. What does it mean?
I have no idea. But that's where my thoughts stand just now.
Anyway, I wandered into downtown (it's a nice short walk from here) and went to the David Wills house, which is where Lincoln slept the night before delivering the Gettysburg Address, and where he wrote part of it, and then went to the Dobbin House for dinner, and got duck (I hardly ever get duck, but it sounded really good, and it was really good so it was worth it). They had amazingly tasty homemade bread, and the desert menu was tantalizing, but I had no choice really - I've never seen real gingerbread on a menu before, and if what they served wasn't as good as what either mom or I makes (I mean actual gingerbread, by the way, not gingerbread cookies) it had an interesting condiment - lemon jelly! - which was surprisingly tasty (I don't generally like lemon all that much now that I'm older, my taste for both it and mint have faded as I've aged). So it was worth it. :)
Well, with a lot on my mind about the nature of friendship and whether or not I think being a reenacter would make me reach some magical level of unacceptable geekiness. Either way, I've decided for sure that this year I'm making a Civil War dress. What I'm gonna do with it is a question for another day. (At minimum, I can wear it on Halloween, though the idea of trying to get around in the press of people at the Greenwich Village parade while wearing a hoop skirt is terrifying. ;) )
Until tomorrow...
I really wanted to journal my trip, and that's what I'm doing. So this is going to be kind of introspective and babbling and wandering - as will my other posts about this trip. Consider yourself warned. ;)
I'm calling it Day 0 since today really feels like Day 1 - my first day on the road, my first morning waking up some place different. I had to leave for four hours yesterday and then return home and lock up. Niftily (yay, it's a word!) one of the supers assistants in my building who I've gotten pretty friendly with the last week or so showed me how I can set my door to auto lock, which is very exciting, and meant that I wouldn't have to leave my door unlocked for the four hours that I was away.
I can't say I felt at all enthusiastic about my departure. Quite the contrary. As I drove over to the NYBG and chatted with mom, I seriously considered actually trying to stay in my apartment, despite the center of my living room being completely filled with approximately thirty 95 quart containers plus other various items stacked on top like empty suitcases and my sewing machine (all the contents of my book cases and closets). The weather was chilly, I couldn't wear my coat (I was being super careful about contaminating any additional items of clothing), and with the weather we'd been having I had low expectations of seeing anything at the Gardens to make the trip worthwhile. Thankfully, I was wrong, which perhaps is when my mood starting to improve. It's not like there was loads to see - it is early - but the magnolias were just starting to bloom, they'd planted...crap, what are they called...um...violas (like Johnny Jump Ups) all over the place, and the daffodils were sporadic depending on the availability of sunlight and the traits of the type of the particular breed. I love daffodils, and they can bring a smile to my face pretty much no what, so - sure enough - I was smiling despite the chill (I had a funny conversation with a security guard about the fact that I wasn't cold even though it was in the 40's). In addition, there were a bunch of unusual flowers I never see because I never go so early in the year, and there were the miniature irises which I'd forgotten about (I saw them last year) and which are very beautiful. Add in my second trip through the Orchid Show, and I left in considerably better spirits than I arrived. I headed home, locked up, and took to the road just as the rain started.
As it turns out, it's a very easy trip to Harrisburg (95 to 78 to 81...). I found it to be non-stressful despite the rain that got pretty heavy at times and caused a thick fog to settle in. I left for PA at about 2:00, and checked in to a Best Western at about 5:15, and embarked on my next missions:
1. Obtain dog food. I ran out about two days before departure and had been forcing Jonie to make do with the only appropriate food at my grocery store, but I wanted her back on her normal food ASAP so she wouldn't get a puppy upset stomach.
2. Visit Joann's Fabrics. After a bit of heartbreak, I decided to add my (formerly) current cross stitching project to the quarantine pile (my belongings are in two sets: ones that I can unpack when I get back after the second extermination and ones that I can't unpack for a year because I was unable to otherwise ensure that they were bug free). The alternative would have been to wash all the threads individually, just too much of a pain, and I couldn't pretend there was no danger of infestation, considering that the only two actual bed bugs I've seen were crawling on this same cross stitch. All of which is to say that I decided to take a new project with me, one that I only had a chart for, so I had to go to Joanns to buy fabric and thread to work it.
3. Eat Cracker Barrel. Have I ever mentioned how much I love Cracker Barrel? I know, it's mortifying, but put some mac and cheese and biscuits in front of me, and top it off with their sugar free apple pie, and I'm in some bizarre, middle American version of heaven where the people scare the shit out of me but the food is somehow still worth it.
4. Buy manga. I've been reading tons of manga recently, but of course I couldn't take it with me, and after some worrying about money, I decided that I'd buy some manga for the trip, which required locating a Borders or Barnes and Noble.
As it turns out, all of these missions were easy to accomplish. I was staying at exit 72; and long before I got there I had learned thanks to billboards that there was a Cracker Barrel at exit 68. Meanwhile, when I asked the lady at the check in desk where I could buy dog food, she told me her uncle owned a feed store, and it was very close, and she even called for me and confirmed that they had what I needed. She also told me that there was a Joann's even closer, but that didn't go so well - it wasn't where she said, though when I went back to my room to look it up, even Google Maps said it was there. They also located another that wasn't far either, though, so I went there instead. It has to be the biggest Joann's I've ever seen, and it turns out they'd recently moved (from the no-longer-there location I'd been originally sent to). Meanwhile, directly across the road was a large Borders. So pretty much everything went as perfectly as I could hope, except that the mac and cheese wasn't quite as good as usual (the apple pie made up for it by being even better than I remembered. ;) )
The positive effect of this (having some good luck, spending some cash for the hell of it, getting out here at all) was that I headed back into my hotel feeling much better about things. When I left NYC, I really, really didn't want to be traveling, or doing much of anything at all for that matter. But, have any of you ever noticed how iPods sometimes know what to play (I know it's random)? Well, my iPod managed to hit all my buttons, popping up all the songs that make me reflect and think. Then, to top it off, while I was trying to find a clear radio station, I caught some notes of a song I knew (unusual enough...) that was just starting and heard...
"And you may find yourself in another part of the world...
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile...
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house,
With a beautiful wife,
And you may ask yourself, how did I get here?"
Now, I don't hear "Once in a Lifetime" often, and I don't have it on my iPod, and having it randomly turn up just now? Well, it seemed a little like fate. And it really got me thinking. I tend to play off my own accomplishments. I joke that I don't have a real job, I work for my mom for chrissake. But I DO have a real job, and I work really, really hard at it when the time comes. I take on a lot of risks because I'm self-employed, too. But I get the perks of that - when the time hasn't yet come, or after the time has gone, I'm free again to do things like wander out of state for a few weeks. But that doesn't mean I haven't earned that, and it doesn't mean that I don't have a real job - in fact, it's insulting to the people who stake their hopes of winning literally millions of dollars on my performance (which I take very seriously!) by even joking that I don't have a real job! Cause I do! And there's nothing wrong with the fact that it doesn't work like other peoples.
Case in point - on Tuesday, I gathered up my papers and such and went and did my taxes. This went shockingly well - much better than last year, for example - and thanks in large part to the large deduction caused by my massive student loan interest payments, I didn't owe more than I already had saved (I expected to have to take a big chunk of April's pay check to cover the difference - but I don't have to which means I can put that same chunk towards paying estimated taxes for this year - it means I'm finally catching up, which is great). That's not the point, though. The point is the lady who did my taxes found out what I did. It turns out that she works for a non-profit in Pelham that would like to write some grants, and I warned her that I was pretty expensive but that I'd be willing to look into it. I then told her my going hourly rate (which I've NEVER actually been paid, though perhaps I shouldn't admit that, because legally it's what I'm contracted with NYC to earn for grant writing activities) which is from $150 - $200 per hour. She laughed! She said that was fine! She sounded surprised - because I'd said it was a lot, she must have assumed I meant something even more. I was amazed. But why should I be amazed? This is what I do, and no one who meets me for the first time knows I'm just some "kid" who wasn't even educated in this field - and why should they ever know that unless I tell them? Especially since it's ceasing to be true - in June, I'll have been working for HEC for 7 years, in May I'll have been editing grants for 4 of those years, and as of this past March I've been writing grants for three years. Prior to this last round of grant writing I'd been the lead writer on 10 grants (I think) and secondary writer on another...er...at least 2; of those 12, 8 won; and three of the ones that didn't win were for long shots (as in, out of several hundred applications, only 2 - 4 got awarded in the entire country).
I already knew I was good at what I do. That wasn't the point. The point is that I don't need to be self-deprecating, and I don't need to be defensive. I work for my mom. I make a (by my standards) damn impressive income. I don't have anything to apologize for.
So how did I get here? Some of it was luck. And some of it was natural skill. Some of it was practice through the years. A good chunk of it was taking my lumps through the years, especially concerning writing ability and editing. But I AM here, and from the look of things, if I want to I can continue to be here for a long time. One of the grants we submitted, I'm written in as an independant consultant, which if we win will mark only the second time that I've been paid outside of mom's company for education work. This wasn't my idea, either, it was the clients. More and more, there are clients who want to work with me, in particular. This is a far cry from the first two TAH grants I worked on, when we didn't even tell the clients that I was the one writing their grant, or from every previous grant where we decided not to include my resume for fear that it wouldn't look like I was qualified to do the work I already do. With that history, no wonder I've got some shame - but this time, we did include my resume; this time, I'm named in proposals. Just like everyone else embarking on a professional career, it's taken time to build contacts and reputation, but I'm succeeding at it, and that's all to the good, and now I need to make my mindset catch up with the reality, and stop engaging in some of the habits which could be detrimental now that they aren't really relevant or accurate.
Also, I think it finally sank in for the first time in a long time that underneath the stress, and the times when things aren't great, I really am fundamentally happy. With all the things that happened in March, it was easy to lose sight of that, but now I've got a lot to look forward to. May, June, July and August all have major work assignments in them (lots of evaluation activities in May and June, and year-end reports due at the end of July and August), but April is relatively free and clear (thank god!) and from what I know of my schedule thus far, the fall is also relatively clear. I've got multiple trips planned - Chicago at the end of May for the wedding, Origins at the end of June, Gencon in mid-August, and the trip with my family to London, Paris and Amsterdam in September, meanwhile I'm holding out hope that I'll be able to afford to go to Japan in mid-October and stay for a month (so far this is on track, but I'll have to see how my finances are as summer comes - the Europe trip isn't going to cost me much, but Gencon in particular might get pricey, depending on what art I see...). On top of that, I'm really excited about the upcoming baseball season, and there's lots of other good things on the horizon - and not in that "they're in the distance if only they were within reach way," but in that "I'm driving right for it and will be there soon" way. With all that good - and sure, some bad - fundamentally, what have I got to be unhappy about?
Wait, I still don't have a boy friend. (Seriously, just kidding. ;) )
After a contemplative afternoon and evening, I woke up to a ridiculously foggy morning outside of Harrisburg. On the evening of Day 0, I'd looked at the map and gotten all my directions down, and so I wiled away the morning from when I woke up until it was time to head out - the museum opened at 10, and it was only about 15 minutes away, but I got bored and left at 9:20 anyway, and used the extra time to walk around the park where the museum was located with my dog. It was so foggy that even the top of the museum was hard to see! And though the whole Reservoir Park was on a big hill, I couldn't hardly see the city.
The first thing that struck me about the National Civil War Museum was the walk. It has a commemorative cobble stone walk with the names of the venerable ancestors of donators. I grabbed a pamphlet, and am now considering joining those ranks - after all, my venerable, direct-male-line ancestor, John Milton Houck, served in the 29th Iowa with distinction (I keep thinking I have either the name, the number, or the state wrong, so I just tried to call dad and ask, but he's out, so I guess I won't know until he gets back from his meeting, Paula's promised to tell him I rang...). And by "distinction," of course, I mean did nothing whatsoever of note, got discharged due to dysentery, and lived off his military pension for the remainder of his days. But, hey, I'm proud of it anyway, so why shouldn't he have a block on the walk? :)
I really wasn't sure what to expect from the museum. Anyone who has visited a battlefield knows that within about 5 minutes you'll have passed five places all claiming to be spectacular, unique, amazing experiences for the whole family, come and see all the authentic military artifacts, painting, oh, and try the local cheese! These little "museums" sometimes have one or two things of interest, but they generally occupy one room, cost a buck or two, and are pretty much there to satisfy those with either insatiable thirst for more, or an endless supply of hope that maybe, somehow, the next one will be cooler. Likewise, most battlefields have one small, official museum which contains donated items and archaeological finds. These are usually in visitor centers, and are generally much nicer, but are also usually small, and due to lack of funds often are quite old (not a bad thing in and of itself, but they feel worn).
It was immediately apparent on arrival that the National Civil War Museum was neither of these things. Perched atop a hill in a decent sized park, it looked...like a museum. Nothing else quite looks like that. The facilities were modern and nice and clean, and the inside lived up to the outside - it was a very fine museum. The exhibits were arranged chronologically, and they sketched out the major events leading up to, during, and after the war without really taking sides. Like, the section where they talked about "The Lost Cause" at the end didn't pass judgment on it (as most northern types are wont to do); even slavery - which of course was portrayed as barbaric, how could it not be portrayed as such, when it was? - was well balanced - they had a lot of living history film clips, and while wax manikins told a sad story about a family being ripped apart, a video clip told the story of a house slave who really didn't have it to bad at all. Another example, it talked about Andersonville Prison, but it also talked about the Northern equivalent (the name of which I'm blocking just now) and showed pictures from both - and they equally horrifying (they looked like Holocaust survivors rescued from the camps, that's the only way I can describe it). In short, I liked how fair and balanced it was.
But the real treat was the weapons. I don't know why, but I've always found Civil War muskets and rifles to be really, really cool. I've wanted one since I was about 10 - any one will do - and in fact, I've been tentatively offered a very fine one by
sapphohestia's dad for the princely sum of $4,000 dollars, and I hope that in the next year or two I might actually be able to get it...but I doubt it. (crappy ones that don't work any more and are otherwise damaged can be had for about $1,000.) And this museum had the finest collection of them I've ever seen, Southern and Northern, along with sabres, pistols, revolvers, and all manner of military weaponry. There was one room which was devoted exclusively to equipment - uniforms, arms, canteens, cannon shot, saddles, that kind of thing - I spent more time in that room than anything else, even though it had the least to read, because I was photographing like, everything. ;) The museum displayed two types of artifacts. On the one hand, there were those that were integral to the conduction of the war, or that gave a feel for how things were, or that made a point - everything from the guns and uniforms to mess kits to surgeons tools to "Pain Bullets" which bear the teeth marks of those who bit into them while having a limb amputated (origin, apparently, of the phrase "bite the bullet"). On the other hand, there were the items that had significance only by association - Lee's gauntlets, a lock of Pickett's hair, some netting off of a chair that apparently belonged to Stonewall Jackson, Grant's personal traveling trunk, that kind of thing. These made for a funny assortment - and some were clearly labeled to indicate that they might not be what they claimed (one bit of rope was "supposedly" used to hang the commandant of Andersonville, for example.) They made an interesting counterpoint, though.
The long and the short of it is, it was well worth the trip, and I'd even happily go back, though I did see everything - with so many shineys, there are surely some I didn't notice. I was there about 3 hours in all, and left with a shot glass, a reprint of a book about the Civil War published in 1866, and some other odds and ends, and set off on the way to Gettysburg.
I got my first opportunity to test my goal of taking things as they come less than 10 minutes after leaving. Driving to the bridge across the Susquehanna, I was ogling the shiny capitol building when I passed a sign for the Pennsylvania Archive and State Museum. After a brief debate, I decided to stop, pumped a dollars worth of quarters into a meter, and walked in (this bought me all of 40 minutes, sigh). It turns out that it was free (good thing) and that it was quite large (bad thing). I proceeded on the lightning tour since I only had 40 minutes (though I ended up chucking my last two quarters in, to get me an hour) and didn't get to read a word of signage but saw some neat things. I also had a funny encounter with the museum staff.
See, the building has these big narrow escalators. Now, I went to high school in a building with escalators, and I'm utterly confident on them - I've gone up down escalators, and down up escalators, and I've run up them when late to class, and I know how to stop them multiple ways in case of emergency, because stopping them was one of those things that a high school student could think was cool to do for the hell of it. Apparently, though, the museum policy is no walking up the escalators.
Wha?
So I got yelled at by some dude for walking up the escalator. I promptly ignored this, and went about my business, and the next time he saw me on the escalator, he said it again, this time backed up, to which I gave back some lip and got a not-at-all-nice reply. Normally, I might even have followed the rules, except I only had 60 minutes to see the entire the museum, it was four floors!! Anyway, I get to the landing on the next floor, out of sight of the two giving me a hard time, but right beside another security dude who had been listening but keeping silent, and I tell him that I'm gonna walk up the next one, and please don't try to stop me, and he goes, "oh, it's okay, I'm not like those guys." Afterwards, he found me in an exhibit and was like, those guys were just being jackasses, I'm an adult and I'm not with children, and what could possibly be the danger in letting me climb the escalator when I clearly know what I'm doing? I can understand a little why they were concerned - while I was there I saw no less than 3 people hesitate before getting on in that tell tale way like they're not used to escalators and find them intimidating. But it was just as obvious that I wasn't like that - so I appreciated being treated like a responsible person by this one guy. And I took the stairs after that, thus avoiding the other schmucks.
It was a nice museum with a curious array of exhibits on natural history, anthropology, and history - top floor was a planetarium and ecology type stuff, including some animal dioramas as nice as the ones at AMNH. They had an entire exhibit on industry on the 3rd floor, which was particularly cool for having all kinds of different transportation, from a 200 year old mail sled to a Model T to an airplane to an automated drone used to clean up after Three Mile Island. They also had a lot of Native American artifacts which I only skimmed, and a small Civil War exhibit. This was actually really neat, because it was a room of paintings, one of which is quite famous and I was happy to get to see. On another floor they had a small town circa 1890s built into the room - all the store fronts, and you could look in and see the products. I love stuff like that, when it's well done, it really brings you to another time. This one wasn't the best I've seen (the best was in the Hong Kong history museum, it was AWESOME) but it was pretty nice. There was an exhibit of WPA Post Office art, too, which I would have liked to get a book for, but they didn't have it.
The highlight, though, was actually not even open yet. They're putting on an exhibit of notable donations they've received in the past 10 years, and it doesn't officially open until the 4th, so I only got to see half of it, but it was really interesting - a strange combination of paintings and works on paper, some modern, some older - I wish I could have seen the rest.
So even though I only had an hour there (while I could have gotten more quarters, the fog had cleared completely while I was in the Civil War Museum and the day was pretty warm, and Jonie was in the car - it didn't seem right even though I'd parked in the shade. With that done, I got back on the road (it was a detour of less than a block!) and drove down to Gettysburg, arriving at about 3. It took me three tries to find a hotel (the Best Western here is in a national historical landmark building, a turn of the 19th century Court House, and so no pets allowed, and the Holiday Inn was, amazingly, booked) but I ended up in the Travelodge.
Sitting around, looking at the map they'd given me at the Best Western, I plotted out what next. It was one of those touristy maps with advertising by local businesses, and I immediately spotted one that I wanted to go to - "Abraham's Lady - Civil War Clothing and Accessories." I've mentioned my interest in reenactment before, and now that I've been forced to pack all my costume stuff into quarantine, I'd been thinking that this was the year to finally make a Civil War dress, so I wanted to see the patterns at this "Abraham's Lady." And it turned out it was right around the corner from hotel (along with a place called the Dobbin House Tavern, which is located in the oldest building in Gettysburg and sports a fine restaurant, and I promptly decided to eat dinner there).
And now, I finally get to today's even that caused reflection, because I'm so, so glad I went into Abraham's Lady. Though I've rambled a lot about the other things I did today, this is the thing that really made me pause and has me reflecting. Here I met a girl named Beth. She's one of the employees, and we started talking about patterns, and moved on from there. The only other person in recent memory who I've hit it off so well with was Shanna. And similarly, this person is also completely inaccessible normally (Shanna is a lady I met at a work conference in December. The conference was in Washington DC. Shanna lives in Salt Lake City, Utah. We get along like a house-afire, and I saw her again at a follow up conference in January, but otherwise have no expectation of seeing her again until next year). Beth, of course, lives here. She loves to travel, she lived in Cologne (she and I were describing the Dom to the other employee) and speaks German, she loves history, she watches anime, and she agrees with me that it's better to just pretend that Sirius Black is alive. In short, in about a half hour (with interruptions because neither of us wanted to get her in trouble - she was working, after all) I got reminded again of just how nice it feels to meet someone and have everything click.
It's got me thinking, but I'm not sure what to do about it yet. Among other things, she's a reenacter, and a sewer, and it just makes me remember that the way to meet people is to go to the places where the folks do what you want to do, and see what happens. That's how I made friends in Bloomington, too. If I'd done in Bloomington what I've done since in NYC, I'd have made no friends there, either. Instead, I went to Game Preserve, and met
ninja_turbo, and took some chances. Here, I went to the place that sounded most interesting to me...and poof, I met someone! Like, immediately. It also has me thinking about reenactment. I've been to a couple of reenactments in my time - no big ones though - and even then (long before I was a gamer, much less a LARPer) it was something that I wanted to do. My dad and I talked semi-seriously about giving it a try. I was probably 11 or 12. It didn't end up happening, but still, it represents a long-standing temptation for me. And to meet someone who I'm so compatible with who does it, seems to suggest that there might be more like her. She said that it was all about finding the right company - which makes perfect sense - and when I asked if she might be able to help with that, we traded e-mail addresses. All of which is to say, I'm thinking about it more seriously again. It raises some worries (in particular, unlike when I was a kid and wanted to play a boy soldier, now I'd want to play a lady - which first requires a much more difficult to make costume with different historical accuracy concerns, and second (and more problematic) requires a great deal of knowledge about women's roles and activities, because I'll have to be answer questions. The issue here is that a. I don't know that stuff and b. I don't particularly want to learn it, because I like reading about battles and glory and gore (okay, that's note quite accurate, but it's closer))
Meanwhile, aside from these particular questions, it raises all kinds of thoughts about the process of meeting friends. I have no doubt that if I was local, or even if I was here longer, I'd try to get to know her better. The point isn't so much that's impossible (it's not impossible, there are computers!) but that it doesn't really solve my solid problem: while I've got friends in NYC and the NYC area, I don't have what I had in Bloomington, what I miss from Bloomington. If I can find random people from Gettysburg and Salt Lake City and hit it off with them, I can only believe that what's stopping me from finding people in NYC is the difficulty of making connections, of finding the right kinds of places, or maybe just the dumb luck of finding that person. I mean, if I hadn't sat next to Shanna at the conference, we'd never have met. And even if I'd met her in another context, maybe we wouldn't have gotten along so well. Instead, we've only spent a couple of days together, but on both days we spent hours and hours in each others company and had a great time, and I don't doubt that when we next encounter each other the same thing will happen again, because I think she's really cool (her sister, who I also got to meet, is super cool too) and feel pretty confident that she felt the same way about me. These chances MUST exist closer to me. I keep thinking that if I keep doin' what I do - going to museums, primarily - then these things will happen. But for some reason, they DON'T. And I just don't get it. It makes me wonder if I'm doing something "wrong" - but I don't think I am. It makes me wonder just how much meeting these kinds of people is chance. I can only think of three times it's happened (these two, plus meeting
ireneadler in Japan, but that was different again, because she was friends with skygawker, who I'd already gotten friendly with over LJ, though we'd never met in person). And all have been within the last two years. What does it mean?I have no idea. But that's where my thoughts stand just now.
Anyway, I wandered into downtown (it's a nice short walk from here) and went to the David Wills house, which is where Lincoln slept the night before delivering the Gettysburg Address, and where he wrote part of it, and then went to the Dobbin House for dinner, and got duck (I hardly ever get duck, but it sounded really good, and it was really good so it was worth it). They had amazingly tasty homemade bread, and the desert menu was tantalizing, but I had no choice really - I've never seen real gingerbread on a menu before, and if what they served wasn't as good as what either mom or I makes (I mean actual gingerbread, by the way, not gingerbread cookies) it had an interesting condiment - lemon jelly! - which was surprisingly tasty (I don't generally like lemon all that much now that I'm older, my taste for both it and mint have faded as I've aged). So it was worth it. :)
Well, with a lot on my mind about the nature of friendship and whether or not I think being a reenacter would make me reach some magical level of unacceptable geekiness. Either way, I've decided for sure that this year I'm making a Civil War dress. What I'm gonna do with it is a question for another day. (At minimum, I can wear it on Halloween, though the idea of trying to get around in the press of people at the Greenwich Village parade while wearing a hoop skirt is terrifying. ;) )
Until tomorrow...
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Date: 2009-04-03 02:54 am (UTC)Wow, you said just what I've been thinking a lot these past few days. I was all bummed because I met lots of cool people on the India trip, but I'll probably never see some of them again, and others maybe only a few times before I go back to the States. I'm hoping that once I'm in the country where I plan to live most of my life, I'll be able to make more lasting friendships*. But even then, how do you do it? I have just gotten lucky a few times. My fantastic friend who's been my closest on JET went home after a year, but she and I stay in close touch...and I only got close to her because she lived upstairs from me, basically. Is Fate going to plop more awesome people in neighboring apartments? Somehow I doubt she will be that kind to me. :p And that's talking about friendships -- I was musing with my friends how amazing it is that anyone ever becomes a couple because you have to like a certain person in a certain way and have that particular individual like you back in that certain way. It blows my mind that this ever works out at all (but that's probably because I am not exactly prone to having crushes myself, so the odds are even less in my case). But yeah. I've been kind of down the last few days, actually, just thinking about this. I wish I could have some promise of some cool friends at grad school before I get there. I sure do hate transitions.
(*I want to say more on "lasting friendships." Of course friendships that aren't in person can be lasting friendships, but not with everyone. I wish everyone in the world were as awesome about not merely staying in touch but actually having meaningful interaction through e-mail as some of my on-line friends, but sadly, they are not. And it's also true that I wish some of these on-line friends were closer so we could hang out in person. Sigh.)
Also...um, what? No walking up the escalators? Seriously? That's just bizarre. I hate standing on escalators.
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Date: 2009-04-05 12:58 am (UTC)But transitions are tough - my experience, in terms of friendship, is that you get back what you put in. I put a LOT of work into building friendships in Indiana (where I went to grad school) and it paid amazing dividends - but it wasn't easy to start with. Meanwhile, since I've moved to NYC I've done basically nothing...and shockingly enough I've got no new friends. (basically). I wish you luck, though! It can be done!!
And no, those jerks wouldn't let me walk up the escalator. Aarrrrgh.
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Date: 2009-04-05 01:00 am (UTC)Or at least that's what I keep telling myself. ;)