Pabst Blue Ribbon Tears

This holiday season has been full of love and laughter, and an aching heart. The grind of holiday revelry and the intensity of the past four days of dealing with the suicide of a friend have caught up to me.

I've gone through the deaths of friends too many times to be considered normal, and my coping mechanism for death is fairly predictable. I tend to be pretty matter of fact about it. I know from experience that the sting, the confusion and the pain will pass. Unfortunately this acute awareness confuses the need for my heart to mourn in the meantime.

I haven't been able to cry about Trevor's death until today at the funeral. But today, before the start of the service the guitar dudes played some wistful beautiful song that triggered my waterworks and they lasted in a silent stream for over an hour.

Crying is exhausting, but necessary, and it feels good to have had that release.



In flux

progression of scribbles - self portrait - in flux

I cried in public on Saturday night. Someone said something cruel to me, and upon hearing, I burst into tears.

The part that really stung is that I like this person. I respect him. We aren't close friends, but are acquaintances with countless mutual friends.

Today the person who caused my tears called and apologized. He took the time to track down my personal cell phone number and call me.

The apology was completely unexpected but welcome and the slate was wiped clean.

Image created with the Scribbler.

Pretty with Picnik

oh a saturday night

I'm rather impressed with the Picnik editing tools that were just added to flickr. Especially because Photoshop just decided to shit the bed on me... so until I fix the problem at least I can beautify slash gaudify photos through flickr, yeah!

The picture above is a picture taken with my phone, the original was sent straight from my phone to the previous post. I then uploaded it to flickr and played. Impressive, huh!


New Member of the Family

For those you that don't know my family personally, we are collectors. If you need something, we probably have three to choose from.

My mom collects every kind of mustard you could imagine, kitchen wares, and handwork materials galore. I have too much jewelry for my own good and a weak spot for vintage dresses. Richard, my stepfather, he collects and rebuilds bikes, skies, antique outboard engines and most notably... boats.

When I was seven or so Richard built me my own little rowboat.

emily richard nutshell launching

When Saphrona, my sister was little he built her a pooduck sailing pram. Richard spent the past few winters rebuilding another rowboat that we call the black boat. Each of these dinghies has a rig for sailing.

There's the white boat, a sweet old runabout that i covet, but is in pieces and in dyer need of a rebuild. There's the Ra Lo a funky aluminum center console runabout. The Duranautic, our dependable turquoise work boat, is the first and last boat to be launched and hauled every season.

No, I'm not done yet, but close.

This winter, the big project in the life of how these boats turn, involves the removal and rebuilding of the the dual engines in our big power boat, Candace III, a 1942 Elco Cruiser.

I hope you can understand my shock when I was told that my family had purchased yet another boat in partnership with family friends. Peggy Jane, a lobster boat type powerboat is no stranger, my mom and Richard used to maintain her for the owners. But own her? What were they thinking?

Who cares! It's the perfect picnic boat, let's go!

It's my pleasure to introduce Peggy Jane. Welcome to the family.

new addition to the family

Peggy Jane

I should add that owning the kinds of boats that we do (old and wooden) is a labor of love. My family does the majority of the maintenance and restoration on all the boats. I admit, I don't contribute nearly enough. OK, not at all. For as well as my mother and I get along we've never been able to work together on boats. I do however adore using each and every one.

Inevitably, last call

I've been enjoying Gilbert's lately.

This summer I found the bar buzz overwhelming. Maybe it was just my state of mind, but I'm having way more fun hanging out in town now than I was then.



Richard explains something while Mom and Anita make wreaths.

Now that i've figured out to make animated gifs (duh me, it
wasn't THAT hard) you can expect more where this came from.


Love on a Ribbon

ribbon love

Living at home I find all sorts of treasures from my childhood. I'm not sure when I made this, but I have a feeling it was probably part of a scavenger hunt made for my mom.

Weekly Wayne!

more wayno



i notice ridiculous things like this:



Tradition in time

I've been thinking a lot about family since our big Thanksgiving extravaganza. My thoughts have been bouncing back and forth between the sentimental awe and the realistic disconnect that I have with my extended family.

I'm a little younger than one group of my cousins and significantly older than the majority. The age difference sets me apart enough that when I'm not instigating them to do lip-dub's, I'm observing them, and I'm inspired by the remarkable way that they along and interact.

There were giggles over nothing, sharing of ipods and even heated political debates. But the most interesting thing I overhead were the murmurs about continuing the tradition of getting all our families together, "When we grow up."

It's heartwarming to hear such a sentiment. It speaks wonders for the example that my mom and her siblings have set for us. I'm hopeful for the future of tradition, but not naive to the realistic nature of time.

In time the cousins will move away, get married and have children. In time, the age difference between us will feel less. And only time will tell if we'll follow in the tradition of our cackling aunts and sleeping uncles.



For as long as i can remember my mom's sister Andrea and her husband Steve have hosted Thanksgiving in Sherman Station, Maine. Dinner for 50 is no easy task, but over the years the holiday has become a well ironed machine. This year i challenged the flow of events, with the proposal of a one take family lip dub to "Good Lovin" by The Rascals.

Executing the lip-dub with dinner waiting and the second half of the song not planned out was a challenge, but hot damn, we worked together and I'm sure I wasn't the only one who had fun!

Boom! Enjoy the chaos below.

Oh, i should add that our Thanksgiving count was 49 friends and family. Cousins and spouses and the next generation...

The cousins and extended family

Most of the older boy cousins and fathers departed to huntin' camp around supper time. The girls hot tub lip dubbed "Yellow Submarine" before being ordered to stop singing along the Beatles and remove ourselves from the hot tub to preserve the family jewels. Exact words used too, about the family jewel part.


Dysarts, Herman Maine

Clew sample

My sister sewing a practice sail in the backseat. It's homework.



Entertainment in the Mid Coast was above par last week.

Tuesday night I wandered in the Opera House to see the last set of the Derek Trucks, Allman Brothers guitarist and his band. I haven't seen the Camden Opera House rock like that since I snuck in to see Wilco years ago. Whoop.

On Thursday, I saw Camden Regional High School's production of Footloose. Across the board those kids had smokin' singing voices and they rocked the house right.

Lights go down on the cast of Footloose.

Saturday night was all about EDIE!

Edie slash glamazon was a stitch. Here, she brings Rob up on stage for some lessons in the cha cha.

The Camden Harbour Inn hosted a lovely party after the show. There were nibbles and giggles and gays galore! Edie, and her edietini sat down with us for a bit.

Even with my hot high heels I was a mouse next to Edie!

And i thought with my heels i'd be closer!


Camden Town


I can't believe it's that time of year again.


Derek Trucks Band at the Camden Opera House.

Derek is a guitarist for the Allman Brothers. Oh and Fishman of Phish just walked by.


I'm allowed to eat this.

Project time

At first sight

If you're my friend on Facebook or MySpace, you probably got the memo about the NYGirlOfMyDreams. See, i believe in this little thing called love at first sight, and you can be sure that I was gonna do my part to ensure that boy actually got to meet girl.

I know first hand that the odds of this kind of story having a fairytale ending are slim. But, sometimes, we get a chance to get to know the fantasy. Countless people Facebooked and blogged about the subway sighting, and the NYGirl of his dreams, was found!

I've experienced a similar kind of sighting, and have (strangely enough) had the opportunity (more than once) to meet the boy(s) of my infatuation.

Now, Patrick Moberg gets the chance to fall further into infatuation (love!?!) or dispel the myth. Either way, it's an exhilarating ride, and I wish him the best.

A dusk drive

drive to portland