Burned.....

That last text my brother sent me was a fake one.....

He got me.

I will know revenge!!!

My Dastardly Plans....

were foiled!!!

In honor of my baby brother's birthday, I posted a heartfelt birthday wish on Facebook. Then, I posted a baby picture of him, again, wishing him a happy birthday.

I saw him two days later for a birthday celebration at his house. 

He made a crack how he never received a text from me about his birthday.

"Didn't you see my TWO Facebook posts!?!" I asked incredulous. 

"What?" he snorted. "That doesn't count. Besides, you got that picture from my girlfriend. You didn't even scan that yourself."

I decided he was going to rue the day he complained about my birthday greetings. He wanted texts, then I would give him texts!

I think he's on to me....

Oh, he's so funny!

It's true, my other brother's birthday was the next day.

He's getting cocky now....

Wait! What!?!

He posted on Facebook that his phone was broken.

This completely ruins my plan. I was going to keep this up for months! Maybe even a whole year until his next birthday.

The beauty of this plan was in the long term...sure it was cute now, but in six months it was going to be epic. I had a reminder set on my phone to text him. This was going to be beautiful....and it's ruined. Ironically, by the very technology that I was using to prank my brother.

Sadness descends in the house of Miss Ruark.

Leaving California

Greetings all!

I have been thinking about what I really want out of life...and the time has come for me to write. I am starting to gather my stories about my life in Alaska. Some of those stories, are already here on my blog but some have never been written. I am posting the first story which is about my leaving California to Alaska. 

I would love to have your feedback. It's long, about 5 pages. But my idea is to one day bring these stories together in a book. This would be the first chapter.

Leaving California

What would make a person leave all the comforts of society, their friends and family to trek over 3,000 miles, to a land isolated and wild?

That question has been asked countless times throughout history. There are many different answers, many different reasons. However, I can only give you my answer to that question…and it’s not just one reason. Nor is it very complicated.

The one thing I always wanted to be growing up was something special. My biggest fear was that I would end up boring. I didn’t know how I was going to achieve this life of mine, but I lived with the mantra: “Don’t be boring.”

My 2 kitties

And yet, somehow, I found myself at 33 years old being boring. My life was stagnant. My long term boyfriend had replaced me with a younger, skinnier, more complacent model; my demanding mother was making me feel guilty almost daily if I didn’t help her take care of my baby niece because she had a bad back and lacked the energy; I had lost my best friend over a falling out involving her attachment to my ex-boyfriend; and the only thing going right in my life was my career as a teacher at my local elementary school.

Because my ex-boyfriend of 10+ years hated to travel, I had not been on an airplane in 10 years. I never went anywhere. Even my weekend trips to visit my grandparents brought on feelings of guilt for leaving my two cats alone by themselves. I was sure I would find them strangled in the blinds when I returned.

I was miserable, overweight, and the worst of it all was that my life was boring. I was two issues of a cat magazine away from being a sad middle aged, single woman cliché of a crazy cat lady.

Then, the bottom dropped out from under me. The economy in California in 2010 was horrible. And for a public school teacher, it was worse. Teachers were getting laid off by the thousands. I received a “pink slip”. This was a letter saying that at this time, the district could not guarantee that I would have a teaching job for the next school year. It was a scary time for many of us.

I don’t remember the exact moment it popped into my head that I wasn’t tied down to California. I remember joking with one of my colleagues and the school secretary about moving away to Alaska (which had always been a secret fantasy of mine, moving off some place wild & crazy) when they were teasing me that it was a horrible idea. The thing was, the reasons they were giving me weren’t turning me away.

Here are the reasons they told me Alaska wasn’t a good idea:

     1)   It was cold. I actually hate the heat. I loved the idea of moving some place with snow.

     2)   It was dark. Saying this to a night owl is not going to dissuade them. I never minded the dark. I always had more energy at night anyways.

   3)   There were mostly men there. Well, saying this to a newly single woman afraid of becoming a crazy cat lady was making Alaska sound pretty good. Plus, I had just found out one of the PTA parents had started telling people I was a lesbian, which would be fine except that I wasn’t. Trust me, if I were a lesbian, I’d be quite proud about it.

Now that the idea was in my head, I wondered how feasible would it be for me to actually go up to Alaska to teach? I knew that most states would accept my teaching license; California was known to be one of the good states. I needed more information.

After a few Internet searches, I had learned that teachers were the number one migrant workers in the state of Alaska. It would be very easy to switch over my California teaching license to Alaska. There was actually a whole website devoted to helping teachers find jobs in Alaska (Alaska Teacher Placement or ATP). The site offered information about teaching in rural villages, or in the bush as it was known, along with information about teaching in cities, known as teaching on the road system. There was a message board where you could ask questions from teachers who had traveled up there. There were lectures and videos about what to expect. There were even job fairs in several different states.

It’s a delightful feeling when you realize “Hey, I actually could do this.” Because this crazy idea I had about leaving my stagnant, pathetic world behind and do something wild and unthinkable could really happen. The only thing holding me back was me.

I decided to check out a job fair. There was a job fair in Seattle and one in Anchorage. I decided that before I would move to a new state, I at least wanted to spend at least 24 hours there. I signed up for Anchorage, booked my flight & my hotel.

My 1st view of Alaska

Keep in mind that I hadn’t traveled in 10 years. In everyone’s eyes, this was so completely out of character for me. People asked me who was going to pick me up (a taxi), how would I know where to go (the job fair was at the hotel), and what was going to happen if I needed help? (I’d ask for it?)

People didn’t understand that this wasn’t out of character for me. I was letting people hold me back and for the first time in my life, I was letting go and doing something that felt right for me. I was being true to what I wanted and taking one step closer to who I wanted to become.

That being said, I am not a stupid woman. I researched and made a cheat sheet of every district in the state of Alaska. I had index cards held together with a metal ring listing: where in Alaska the district was, if it was rural, if it paid well, and if the teacher housing had water & electricity and if I would consider teaching there.

I knew that some districts were more dangerous than others. I decided that I didn’t want my lack of knowledge/experience with the weather to kill me. Any place where I had to chop my own wood to survive was not going to work for me. I needed a community of other teachers. I wanted my house to have plumbing but I was on the fence as to whether or not I wanted a roommate.

Armed with my resume, teacher portfolio, and my district cards, I arrived in Anchorage for the job fair. The flights went fine and the taxi ride was smooth. The mountains in Alaska took my breath away. I had never seen a place more beautiful. There was snow on the ground but the locals weren’t even wearing coats. I thought that was odd. Weren’t they cold?

My only mistake was something no one had told me. In California, if it is cold outside then you should wear a sweater because of the drafts, even when indoors. In Alaska, there are no drafts. I was dressed too warmly and I was hot most of the trip. (And for the record, I didn’t wear a sweater during my years in Alaska at all.)

I had to submit my fingerprints before I could get hired to teach. So, I found a place that would do my fingerprints in Anchorage, and then I hopped on a bus hoping to save some money. Now, I look back and am impressed with the guts it took me to get on that bus. Not used to traveling, and certainly not used to taking buses, I met each activity with the determination that everything was going to be fine. And it was.

View from my hotel room

Actually, I was treated with so much kindness from the locals. The woman at the fingerprint place looked up the bus schedule for me to make sure I got back okay. I was digging out my change for the bus when the driver waved me to never mind and just have a seat. I was short some dollars at the hotel store and the girl behind the counter waved me off and gave me a discounted price. I went back and paid her what I owed her and dug the rest of my change out of my pocket for the bus driver but still I was impressed. Another thing that struck me, was whenever someone got off the bus, they all thanked the driver. People weren’t just faceless entities in Alaska. We were all people trying to make our way and were treated as such.

I was liking Alaska.

It was time for the job fair. I walked around to look at the districts that were there. I had so wanted to apply to Juneau or Anchorage…but Anchorage was only looking for Special Ed teachers or high school math…and Juneau wasn’t even there. In fact, none of the districts on the road system were there…only districts from the bush.

I wouldn’t find out until years later that I had been mislead. Job fairs for Alaska were really only for the bush (rural) districts. The other districts are so sought out by the great candidates that they didn’t start looking for teachers until the end of May and/or June. And this had been April. That’s one of the secrets no one mentions, most likely to get people like me to come out.

But at that time, I knew nothing of this. I didn’t know that if I waited, I could have interviewed with those more desirable districts. I really believed that fate was guiding me to a village in the bush. So, I pulled out my cards and submitted my resume to the districts that fitted my requirements.

Out of those districts, I had 3 job interviews that day. I had met a couple who used to work in one of those districts who tried to warn me that the district I had just interviewed with was the worst district in the state of Alaska, but I thought it was tacky to bad mouth your old district, so I ignored them. It turns out to have been the district I chose and they were absolutely correct but for different reasons than they had said anyways.

Anchorage, Alaska

Of those 3 interviews, I received 2 job offers. Right after the first offer came through, I also got a letter from my current district saying that I had my job back for next year with them. I now had to choose between staying in California or moving to an Alaskan village, 400 miles from Anchorage on the Kuskokwim River, accessible by either boat or bush plane. No one wanted me to leave and I also knew that while my job was safe, each school site was going to lose one teacher. My friend, Annabelle, was going to lose her job.

But I didn’t want to stay. People warned me to take a leave of absence for a year. The idea was that if it didn’t work in Alaska, I could come back. But I knew if I had that safety net, I wouldn’t make things work if it proved difficult. I needed to not be able to come back. I needed this to work. I needed to make it work.

I threw caution to the wind, I saved my friend’s job, I stood up for myself, and I resigned after 4 years with my district. I accepted the position in Alaska. And I turned down an interview with Anchorage (wow, that would have been a completely different experience!). The HR director came up to me at a meeting and said, “Lara! What did you do!?!” I replied, “What was best for me.” Then he held out his hand and wished me well.

I was leaving my broken heart, my guilt, my fear, and my doubts behind me. I was taking my 2 cats and going out into the unknown. I had no idea what to expect. But for the first time in my life, I knew I had the smarts, the drive, and the courage to find out what fate had in store for me next. And the possibilities were endless.

Where Everyone Knows Your Name....

I have been back in my hometown for over a year now. And I love being back to a place I know so well. It's got a nice downtown area, a marina to check out the boats, and it's close to San Francisco, Napa, and Sacramento....it's practically perfect. 

One thing that has been an adjustment was my social circle. When I moved away, I lost touch with some of my friends. And I don't blame them, because I left. I tried to talk to them every now and then but life moves on.

When I moved back, I thought I would be able to pick up those relationships and have a social life again. But that's not been the case. Some of those friendships are gone. And that's okay. We are happy to run into each other again and hope we can do it sometime again, but we aren't friends anymore.

Which brings me to the realization: it's hard to make friends when you are an adult. 

Not that I have ever really been good at making friends. Sure, I'm friendly but I really am an introvert and I seem to have some mild social anxiety. I want to go out & do things but it stresses me out. Will I be underdressed? Over dressed? Will I be able to talk to anyone? Or stand there like an idiot?

I can travel to a new place no problem...but put me in a party where I don't know anyone and I can't do it.

There was a place in town that suited me and my social quirks perfectly. It was a cafe downtown called, In The Company of Wolves. But to those of us who frequented it, it was simply "Wolves". It was right off a corner and had an old speakeasy from the 20's down below the building. The floor was sinking in the bathroom & you could see the beam that was the ceiling below coming up through the floor. I never went down into the speakeasy, but legend has it there was still the old bar below...

Wolves was a place where I could show up, sit down, and talk to someone. I never knew who would be there, but there were many regulars. We came from all walks of life, all colors, all sorts of interests, all varied opinions....and we all came to just sit and hang out for a few good hours. We didn't come for the coffee, we came for the atmosphere.

Some nights, people would bring their guitars and play on the street corner. One night, there was an Open Mic Night where one performer played the bongos, pulled down his pants, and hung from a beam in his underwear. He later stumbled back to the dive bar across the street but that performance was pretty memorable. I watched my first Family Guy episode sitting on the sidewalk there. Artists would draw & show off their art. People would read their books, drink their coffee. 

I met boyfriends, friends, and even my family members would sometimes make an appearance at Wolves. My brother even worked there for a short time. 


For someone like me, who has a hard time with big social groups, it was a safe place that I knew I would run into someone I knew & there was no pressure. I could be as laid back as I wanted/needed to be. It was so easy just to show up. Wolves was always there. I would take breaks but then I could so easily show up and pick up where I left off. 

Then, Wolves closed. And there wasn't a place like that in town anymore. There was no place I could just show up and run into people I wanted to talk to. I was on my own. I became a teacher and my life moved on.

I run into my Wolves friends from time to time. Many of us are on social media. I just saw someone last weekend that I hadn't seen in years but we've kept in touch. It was like no time had passed. 

I still miss Wolves. I miss just showing up somewhere and people knowing me. I miss talking about what seems like nothing at the time but feels so important when I look back. You never realize how it's the little moments that mean so much.

It's a computer repair shop now....but the corner the musicians used to play at is now a music store, which seems rather fitting.

I look at the building when I drive by. It seems so normal now. That corner was built on rebellion, fun, & moments of wild abandon....which the Wolves crowd did their best to continue....

How many of us have driven by that corner and remember an era that used to be? And the better question is: what era?

Note: I tried to post a picture of the logo or a pic from Wolves, but it was before the age of smart phones & I don't think I have a single picture from Wolves.....now, that's sad!!!

Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall.....

I've had a break through of sorts.....

Double Take Tote

I bought a new bag.......through my Thirty-One business....and this bag has changed everything. You know the saying a new pair of shoes can change your life? Well, so can a new bag...kinda.

This bag is a tote that normally is not my style. It's sleek & sophisticated. And lately, I am not. I am comfort & baggy. Some days possibly even frumpy.

But I wanted this bag. So I got it. I had no idea what I was going to use it for but nonetheless, this was going to be my bag. I had it monogrammed. I have never had anything monogrammed...that's so not me.

But this bag is amazing. But the problem is.....I don't match the bag. But I wanted to match this bag. I wanted to be stylish. I wanted to up the way I dress.

So, I decided to invest in some new clothes....new work clothes. And I decided to start dressing better. I went online to research what was going on in the world of plus size fashion because I was trying to hide the size of my curves and I was just looking frumpy. 

Turns out, a plus size fashion blog I read said to accentuate your curves & not to hide them. I stood in the mirror and took a good look. Instead of looking to criticize, I looked at my shape and found something beautiful.

I have an hour glass shape. My waist is always smaller than my hips and shoulders. And no matter how big I have gotten, my waist has stayed smaller. But I was hiding my smaller waist. I was hiding my hourglass! Because I hated my stomach.....but really, I love that hourglass! It makes me feel sexy & curvy....it makes me feel better about myself. 

I vowed to hide it no longer!

I found a couple of websites for plus sizes that I felt were cute and complimented me and my style....kicking it up a notch but showing off my hourglass. 

I haven't lost any weight but when I wear those new clothes, not only do I feel better in them, but I get so many compliments.....and I have been getting more door held open for me too! I feel better about myself. I don't feel fat & frumpy.....I feel womanly & curvy. 

Dangerous Curves Ahead!

Not only do I match my bag...but I feel like I match me.

Some lessons I've learned from this:

1) Loving one part of my body has made me appreciate other things about my body & looks.

2) Dressing to show off my shape actually made me feel better

3) I didn't have to lose weight to feel better about myself

4) Investing money in some new clothes is a good thing

I still want to lose weight but it's not because I want to look better anymore. Cause I already do!

Cheers!