Sharmwar's Pakistani Yeti Grill: Wisconsin Trip, Day Two (part one, thank me later)

I don't even know how I'm going to get all of this in here. I took 418 pictures today, almost all of them worthwhile, but that's just....so many fucking photos for a blog. I guess I'll figure it out as I go. 

So today was House On the Rock day. I. Fucking. LOVE. House on the Rock. It's the most absurd place I've been to in America, and while there are a LOT of things that make House on the Rock fucking horrendous and gross, overall I dig the orderly hoarder hermit vibes. 

Derek and I woke up and had our little breakfasts:

My keto bread with vegan breakfast sausage and vegan eggs, and a sugar free Redbull. Breakfast of the reigning champeen! Derek had croissant sammies for his breakfast, but he ate them before I could finish my breakfast cook, so I only got a photo of mine. Riveting. 

We had planned on leaving by 7:45 to get to HotR at 9 right when they open, but we left about 30 minutes later than intended. We had a lovely drive through plain ol' Wisconsin. 

                                                                  Hi. I'm in Wisconsin.

About fifteen minutes from House on the Rock, we were met with this absolute stunner of a billboard. I want to take it home. 

                                                    I feel like they've urned my business. 

I love puns, and this is nothing short of delightful. After a little more driving....we were there. 

YAY!!! HOUSE ON THE ROCK!!! To trim some of the 418 fat, I cut out seven photos...of the road leading up to HotR. I was so excited to be here I took photos of the road in. Wow. 

***edited to add:

I took dozens of videos during our stay. When I uploaded them, I thought all was well and they were working as intended...but all was NOT well, and they were NOT working. So I am taking all of the videos out. I'm hoping to edit all mention of videos, but if I don't get them all, and there are places where I talk about a video...that's why. Also please note that the videos I took? They are AMAZING. And you are truly missing out by not being able to see them.***

Now, something I was not aware of until this trip...HotR has seasons. Insofar as like, we are currently in Christmas Experience Season, which meant that HotR was festooned with over six. thousand. santas. SIX FUCKING THOUSAND. And let me tell you, we felt the looming hauntedness of each fucking omnipresent present shucker. 

So  many santas. 

We had to pee first, so we stopped in to the bathroom, each of us being separated into the two genders:

                                                                              dolls

And

                                                                            maritime

But both had a ceiling covered in planes. For unity between the gender humors, one supposes. 

                                                               That horse has seen things. 

Onwards and upwards!! It was time to go to the kiosk and pick up our little ticketty tickies!!!

Do I have the energy to rotate this image? Not right now I don't. 

Technically this is the first thing you see when you walk in, but this feels like better continuity. 

                                    What's good, handsome? Nothing about you, that's for sure.

The carousel is easily the best part of HotR, but I don't know if it's because I GENUINELY love it, or because American Gods made me love it. 

The House on the Rock. ARE YOU READY FOR ALL OF THESE FUCKIN' SANTAS??? You are a liar. You are not ready.

Here we are, at the tip of the overwhelming santa iceburg. 

The workmanship of this boat really is very impressive. I think it's carved out of wood? Derek pointed out that it must have been available to touch at one point, because there are many smooth parts that have been rubbed away by years of rubbing.

Amazingly intricate. I have never had that much dedication to anything in all  of my life. 

I was expressing to Amber that there is an....odd? Odd seems generous. Fetishistic? A fetishistic amount of Asian things around HotR. Maybe the Museum of The Creator section talks about that? I don't know, it feels like a Hall of Scientology in that section of the house, so I don't pay attention. Anyway, there's a lot of Asian stuff in there, you'll see. 

What there ISN'T a lot of is overhead room. Very selfish on the room height. 2/10 stars. 

And we're back to the santas. They're like gremlins, they are fucking EVERYWHERE. You forget about noticing them for awhile, and then you notice them all over again. Guh. However. Some of the santas are accidentally enjoyable. 

I am again trimming the fat here, I took a lot of photos of the rest of the inside of the first part of section one, and I am editing them out. You're not missing anything but santa tchotchkes.

This walkway wraps all around the thing, and as it was a balmy 34 degrees out and I was wearing flippies, I had to really hoof it around so I could get my toesies back in to the warm, weird indoors. 

                                    I can only imagine how gorgeous this place is in late spring.

                                This carpeted ceiling...is outdoors. And necessary, apparently.

Well....I guess nutcrackers are a nice change of pace?

Especially Nurse Ratched and her firefighting bosom friend. 

We wandered through to the infinity deck, something that I think looks better from far away.

I didn't mention this earlier, but Derek and I prety much had the place to ourselves for 95% of our three and a half hour visit. There was a gaggle of little old ladies behind us, but hey were very leisurely in their pace, and they only caught up with us twice. Walking House on the Rock with nobody around but my husband was absolute divinity. 

See? I think it works better further back. You can actually walk all the way to the red flowers in the back, I did it the first time I went, but it kinda loses its luster when you peek behind the curtain. I'll keep the mirage. 

                                                                      WHO IS SHE.

THWARTED AGAIN!!!! This was similarly closed the last time I was  here. I do not think I'll ever get to see the house deck. Well. You win some santas, you lose some santas. 

This is my favorite non-carousel spot in the whole place:

I spent about twenty minutes here trying to get a for real photo with my for real camera. We'll see if anything turned out in a few days. 

My favorite art nouveau seasons: SPHING SGMMER AGMMN and WINTER

Like gremlins, baby!!! You are never sure when they're gonna pop right back up and horrify you. 

                                                              Why is this santa american?

                                                          Santa is incredible at death drops. 

Santas descend upon you like the plague in this place. Their presence is omni, their drive is relentless, their bellies are shakey like jellies. It's santa o'clock all the time. 

This section is full of dimly lit little cut-out hidey holes like this. This is the best one. 

Time to head outside again to circle back around to sections two and three! Except only section two. Section three is closed. I don't think they had enough santas to fill the place up. 

What a charming garden. The koi were all at the bottom of the pond swimming very slowly. 

                                                       You cannot hear this picture, but I can. 

                                                        Everything's coming up Mill House!

Now this is where I'm going to struggle to whittle shit down. Every single thing in section two is a horrible delight, and I do not know how to edit all of the photos down to a normal amount. I'm so upset about having to do this, but if I don't this blog will take me WEEKS. 

                                         Totally chill about santa. And holiday decor in general.

This section stars out with some pretty cool weapons displays. Some real, some fake, all weird. 

                                                    These inlays are absolutely stunning. 

There is also a wall of coin banks, and some of them are....upsetting. 

 

I asked Derek if it's supposed to be the tower of london, because that kid is about to get his lunch ate. 

Some of my favorite little strange guys:

Derek and I had to go pee again, and we were delighted to find that they had ANOTHER gendered motif. May I present another two genders:

Trains

and

blown glass

Now I think blown glass is carrying a lot of weight but we're finally getting some more gender representation. May I present a third gender:

figurines

1791 London looks fuckin' ROUGH.

                                                        Is...is that rooster shitting out eggs?

What in the wide wide world of sports is going on here?

Geisha Freddie Mercury over there is carrying...shawarma? 

I have no fucking idea what that thing in the middle is. Is it animal? Mineral? Vegetable? An even weirder move? WHAT ARE YOU, MELTED NUTCRACKER.

                            I want to be able to read fucked up Charlie Brown's banner so so badly.

Two general accostings for the price of one!

Those pointed toes are giving me LIFE. 

                                            Ripped straight from the headlines: The Epstein Files. 

Oh no, this one is sad!

That is a lot for a bathroom. A lot. And the other one just has two trains boxes. LAZY. 

Moving on to creepy baby dolls...

                                                               I look like this at parties. 

                                            Redwall WISHES it employed mice this smooth!

There are all manner of femme type sconces around the place, I forgot to pay good attention for all of them. I like this merson, though.

These clock images are hilarious. I don't think the painter has ever seen animals, humans with faces, or anybody melanated. 

                                                    It's the white nipples that make it accurate. 

We're heading up to one of my favorite parts of section two, Streets of Yesteryear. 

So there's a room you walk into and one side is a dedication to Faberge. Of the egg fame. 

Are they really real?  Your guess is as good as mine. I'm inclined to think not, because this shit is just...like everything else in this joint...fuckin' weird. 

I just did a very modest scan of the internet machine and I feel REALLY fucking safe saying uh, these are not faberge eggs. In fact I am not like, super well versed in fine upscale jewelry eggs, but I bet most, if not all, of them aren't made with a hot glue gun and crafting pearls from Discount Nick's Bins o' Stuff. 

This is my favorite of the little coin operated scenes, but Derek and I did not get any tokens for these. We watched them all last time, and I was fine without them this go 'round, but you can watch it here.

On we go into the Streets of Yesteryear!

Lucky for me my NEXT favorite moving box is right at the start of this section! It is...well, it's a horror show, honestly, but a horror show with faces that a mother can love. And this mother does. 

      AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

                                                                Aw, this one's bashful!

                    Rosacea Rex Harrison over here is making too much direct eye contact for my liking. 

I refuse to get over their eyelids. There are more dolls....dolls everywhere, really. 

There are several more windows into yesteryear life, but...you know...fat trimming and all. So we come now instead to my most cherished part of The Streets of Yesteryear...the olde tyme medications. Are all of these real? I don't care. 

                                                        eat Eat EAT!!!! Well ok, if you insist. 

...how do they fit the baby IN the bottle? This one definitely made me laugh, and while I told myself I wouldn't go down a rabbit hole like I did in NOLA (not here, anyway, but I very well might when I get home), I don't see the harm in looking up one silly ol' snake oil. 

Oh no except the harm is now I want to look them all up. Syrup of Figs was sold for laxative purposes, everybody in the olde dayes was gagging for shit juice, and it was really popular. Everybody loved it...except The California Fig Syrup Company. They were big mad at the company producing a baby in very bottle, Clinton E. Worden & Co, because hey said that the name was far too close to the name of THEIR product, which was proprietary, and consumers would get confused and buy the wrong thing from a group of wanna bes and charlatans. CFS Co. put forth that Syrup of Figs was flying too close to their bread and butter, and harming their consumer goodwill by selling a cheap knock off full of bogus malarky. 

When the courts sided with CFS Co, CW & Co. were like, hey we fuckin' object, and we're appealing. So they appealed, brought their case to another court and alleged that hey...maybe our name IS the same fucking product that you're selling, but your product is a big ol' bottle of shitty nothing. CW & Co. went on to say that not only was CFS & Co a bunch of hacky nobodies, but that there wasn't even a lick of figs in their product. Not even a smell of figs. CW & Co. put forth that the California Fig Syrup Company were using senna, a known poop inducer, and masking the nasty taste of senna with additives. None of them fig syrup, of course. CW & Co. said that the initial complaint filed against them was ACTUALLY a confession, and the California Fig Syrup Company could eat a whole dick for being lying liarsons. Allegedly. 

THAT court case ended in both a ruling stating that BOTH companies must immediately end their use of Syrup of Figs as a name, or any derivative close to it, because it created unfair competition. The judge was like, be more creative, knuckleheads. But wouldn't you know it, that ruling didn't sit well, either, and the court case got kicked to the Supreme Court. The US Supreme Court had to get involved, and they ruled that everybody involved was full of shit, and you will NOT pardon the pun. Nobody was allowed to use Syrup of Fig anymore, and nobody could claim harm because both companies were engaging in misleading advertising and both companies were selling products that were not made of even the vaguest hint of a fuckin' fig. No figs, no more. 

So I guess that's when they started using babies instead? Super glad this is the one I looked up, though almost all of these fake tinctures sold as medicine have hilarious court cases to read about. 

                                                        I just like that dude's vibe, honestly.

I do love the stained glass in here. The whole street is very pretty, I really did take so many photos. But I can't upload all of them. We did stuff AFTER HotR that I have to include, too, so I'm trying to brief it up. 

We actually walk through this section later, but I forgot to take another photo of it. So it's showing up now, even though it doesn't belong yet. Let's take one last look at yesteryear...

...before moving on to somewhere where I took a LOT of photos, but will not even post 1/16th of

 them.

Oh wait! I almost forgot about Esmerelda the fortune teller! Who looks depressed, honestly.

I see you, Ms. Esmerelda. I think you should ask for a raise. Know your worth, queen. It's hard out here.

Ok. So off we go, into....

....the giant whale and squid war room. This installation is three stories high, I think somewhere it boasts that this is the largest whale in the world, but I am unavailable to ask other whales, so we'll just let that claim marinate and not say anything else about it either way.

There are tons of knicky-knacks in here...most of them naval and nautical, some of them tobacco for some reason? I took a picture of a lot of them because they were funny, but you're just going to have to take my word for it that the lighters from years gone display was hilariously stuffed full of holiday themed teddy bears. 

We are going to focus on two things: The Octopus's Garden automata and the whale and squid locked in furious combat. 

Op. 1

Looks so cute, right? But I think this octopus is a cruel, unrelenting dictator. Look how stressed the occupants of its garden are:

I don't think any of them are happy. 

Alright, so here we go, whale and squid:

On the third  floor of the whale and squid room are two areas that I think are in hilariously poor taste for a place that isn't a museum...a titanic exhibit, with this AMAZING illustration that I could not help but laugh at the tone deafness of:

                                                                            ...yikes.

and a Lusitania exhibit, which didn't have anything as darkly funny as the titanic did, but did have a menu from the Lusitania which I think is real, and is quite pretty:

                                                I should have uploaded the teddy bears photo.

When you leave the whale and squid room, you come out into an area that houses the little cafe, and it's kind of decorated like a little Bavarian town? So of course, there are a bunch of wonderfully creepy marionettes and masks. 

                                                       Where we're going, we don't need roads.

                                      This is the marionette The Shape of Water is based off of. 

The overlook into the Bavarian area. The Bavarea. Which really works as a portmanteau. 

As you're descending, there are all these old ads for Burma Shave. Who knows why, nothing here makes sense. But the best ads are these little rhyme schemes, and I will admit to you right now that I kept reading them across instead of down and I was VERY confused. 

The best one is:

On curve or hill, 

she likes of

toil (and sin); and

tried to duck it, raced

80 miles per hour.

A Car! A Curve!

At least that's how I would have written it. 

See? Even in the illustrations of days gone by, women still chose the bear. Hug her closer, George!!

Once you're down at floor level, all the various little house facades are visibly full of more strange knickknacks. And the little houses are surrounded by...cars? And carousel seats?

And the Liberacemobile of my most dangerous fever dreams. 

Honestly, the workmanship on the carousel seats is unmatched. They're wild, but they're stunning. Some of the ones on the big carousel are...a choice, but they're pretty much...mostly...incredible. In a good way. 

Hang on, who is this??

AND WHO ARE THEY??

                                                            My new best friends, obviously. 

We didn't wander around here for too long, Derek and I were starting to get hungry and all they had to eat was pizza. I can't eat pizza, and Derek was pizza'ed out. He did have a little seat in the dining area while I went pee (no motifs, sorry!), and before we walked off into the very last, very best and worst section of HotR, I took a few pictures of the amazing wall decor in the dining hall.

                               I was sad we only got one poster of George, but it is the biggest one. 

There is a hall of dead butterflies, but they didn't make the cut. I'm sorry. But to make it up to you, I will ALSO not include the Packers Santa display. You're welcome. 

And here we are, the home stretch, in the music hall. We got very lucky and caught up with a couple who spent their tokens on every single display, so I am able to provide video proof of how hilariously awful and wonderfully endearing SOME of them are. One of them is just straight up racist, and it is ALSO the one that is the most out of tune. Coincidence???? Yes. Yes a thousand percent. 

It looks so unassuming! Unfortunately it sounds like fuckin' ASS, but at least this room is on key.

We headed over to the next room. The worst room, but somehow also the best room. This room I THINK is called The Mikado. And you just aren't ready for it. 

SO ORIENTAL.

                                 BEHOLD, THE EXOTIC, MYSTIC DECOR OF THE FAR EAST!

As Derek and I were sitting there taking photos and giggling to each other, our little couple walked in and asked if we'd mind them playing the machine. We sure fucking do not, we were hoping they'd catch up and do just that. 

I'm having to do a LOT of extra work to get this into this blog, but it is so worth it. 

Ready? You aren't, but we're gonna do it, anyway.

Sounds like Mickey Rooney!!

Hysterical. And so fucking awful. The authentic stylings of THE ORIENT. On, key, and so realistic. 

I thought that all the rooms played only one song. They do not. 

After the John Goodman wall of heads is the very last musical automata. And our reliable couple friends played the room for us! I was very sad I didn't get a single video of her applauding every time a song ended, but I was super delighted by it. 

In the video I took but cannot get to upload, you can hear her going OH WOW! Her glee was adorable. 

And now, it's time. I made it to the end. And so did you. 

Going through the tunnel and seeing the carousel

If watching that video isn't for you, here are photos of the carousel. I just. I love it so much.

This room is so fucking WEIRD. I just love it. You should love it, too. I had hoped to do some different kinds of long exposures this time, but we forgot our tripods. 

And then it was time to leave. As this femme bade us goodbye...

With a follow up goodbye from this baddie....

                                                                  ....what are you doing?

we headed back to the car and drove over to Taliesin. I'm a big fan of Frank Lloyd Wright. Imagine my disappointment to find that Taliesin is closed on Mondays in the winter. Well damn. 

We drove  by, though. 

Stunning?

And while the rest of our day is SUPER minimal, this blog post has been way too long and I'm gonna break it up into a second one.

You are very, very welcome. 

Sharmwar's Pakistani Yeti Grill: Wisconsin Trip, Day One

Today was mostly driving. We started the morning off with dropping some stuff off to FNB, then had to run to Best Buy to grab a battery charger, as we forgot our chargers (we also forgot our tripods, but that's a problem for another day), we ran to grab some road snacks, and then we got on the road officially. It took about 5 hours to get to Madison, and since we had some time to waste before heading over to Heather's for dinner with her and the kids, we drove right to the condo and dropped off our stuff. 

Derek's mom's place is SO FUCKING CUTE.

                                                The kitchen (we came in through the garage)

                                                        The dining room and sun room

                                                    The living room from the dining room

                                                                The primary bedroom

                                       The living room and dining room from the primary bedroom

Aaaaaaaaaaaand finally the living room proper. From the living room. I have not gone downstairs, I mostly do not want to. 

We tooled around for an hour and a half and rested before heading over to have dinner with her and the niblings. We had such an amazing time with the kids, they're all so cool and interesting. We couldn't stay terribly long, everybody had school in the morning, but we left at about 8, came back to the condo, and at 8:30 laughed about how tired we were and how old that makes us feel. All in all a pretty great day for day one of our tenth wedding anniversary vacation. Day two is even better.

Sharmwar's Pakistani Yeti Grill: Wisconsin Trip, Day Zero

November 13th was me and Derek's 10th wedding anniversary. Tenth. TENTH! So we wanted to do something fun and fabulous to celebrate ourselves, two deeply unfun, unfabulous people in their 40s. And we picked the most in-their-40s-and-taking-a-getaway destination we could think of: Wisconsin. 

I am starting this on the 15th, the night before we leave. What am I supposed to be doing, you ask? Cooking and packing. We have to leave at 7am, and that is a must must must, I have shit to drop off to FNB. Instead, I'm starting my blog. 

So here is our current itinerary:

Sunday, the 16th: Driving, meeting up with my SIL and the kiddos for dinner and bonding

Monday, the 17th: House on the Rock. HOUSE ON THE ROCK!!! My favorite weirdo tourist trap in the whole wide world!!! I hate that it is my third favorite place to visit in America because of a fucking rapist, but I am so glad I was introduced to this place and held it so dear for ages, because it truly is wonderful and strange. Many pictures to come, I'm sure. I for real think billionaires are the parasites of the earth, and they suck goodness out of everything for the rest of us, they are the parasite class and I hate them, but like...there's a tiny part of that hatred that is reserved for the wealthy elites like Alex Jordan, Jr. that is so in grateful that a tiny portion of the world's fuckin' bonkers eccentric weirdos have a fuck ton of money on hand to grace us with places like House on the Rock. 

Tuesday, the 18th: No idea what we'll do during the day, but that evening we're having dinner with my SIL and her girlfriend at an amazing Laotian place that I fell in love with the last time we were in Wisconsin. Best squash soup EVER.

Wednesday, the 19th: We're driving up to Lake Superior to go agate hunting!!!! And staying long enough to look for Yooperlites!!!!! I AM SO EXCITED!!!

Thursday, the 20th: Driving home 

Friday the 21st we are leaving for St. Louis in the early AM and dropping off our car to get a bunch of work done, and we're having the fancy part of our tenth anniversary get away, spending the weekend at The Ritz and having dinner at Olive + Oak. Maybe going to the little speakeasy in downtown STL. 

As soon as we get back on Sunday we have so much real work to do, it's going to be overwhelming. We are moving in a few months, and we have shit to get done to get the house ready to sell. This part stresses Derek out, but I love it. Especially because I am so fucking ready to leave Missouri. 

Anyway. Tomorrow our trip starts! I am going to try and do my usual and blog each night, but that rarely turns out well. So we'll see. 

Anne's titty cabinet

There is a lot going on right now, and I am really questioning my next few moves. 

When I tore my Achilles tendon, I spent a week or so debating on whether or not to press pause on my studio in St. Louis. I weighed a lot of things and ultimately decided to close my studio. My remaining clients are being shot in different locations, it isn't like I cancelled on my clients. But the studio just didn't make sense any more. I knew Derek and I would be moving soon, anyway, and I very honestly hated that my studio wasn't accessible to everyone. Being third floor with no elevator? Terrible. Lots of things went in to my deciding to close up shop in STL. I loved my space, I loved the images I created with my clients, but I do not feel like I'm suffering without my physical studio. Plus, like...MOST importantly, I just couldn't manage getting up and down the stairs in my boot with my gear, and Derek couldn't be with me for every single shoot to manage my gear for me. And I needed time to heal. 

Which.

I am getting better, the pain itself is limited to a much, much, MUCH smaller region of my foot instead of my entire leg. I injured myself in July, RIGHT after my birthday, and I am finally finally about to start PT for my foot. In 19 days.

It's relatively quiet for me, photography-wise, because I've had so much other stuff to do and I can't focus on getting more clients. 

One of the things I've been doing is courting PhD programs. I am a chronic sufferer of FOMO, and as a result I never feel...settled in myself. Dan told me once that I wasn't quite still. He compared me to the time traveler in The Time Traveler's Wife, and said that he didn't think he could spend time waiting for me to arrive and be fixed in time. I'm paraphrasing, obviously, but I do remember him making this comparison in a fairly similar way, because I had never seen the Time Traveler's Wife and I had to watch it to  understand what he meant. To be very clear, I do not think this was an exactly genuine critique of me as a person and how I as a person was not a good fit for Dan. I will continue to believe that he just didn't want to be with ME because I wasn't the right kind of person aesthetically, I wasn't the right kind of person on paper, and I don't think that Dan actually wanted a long term relationship. Which is all fine, I understand, and I've only ever been hurt by the lack of transparency. Well, that and it never feels good to know that the problem is you and your ugly face, body, and trash CV. Anyway, I've thought about this critique for the decade plus since Dan said it, and while I do not think he was being honest in that assessment of me for HIM, I do think he might have been on to something. My ADD/Autism for sure comes with an inability to stay committed and focused to something. A career for me has always seemed nice, but ultimately...like...my interests are legion, my talents are diverse, and I'm just supposed to pick ONE thing? One?? One and that isn't depressing as fuck? I for sure flit from thing to thing, and I take on new hobbies and interests and I am a person whose brain is essentially television static. To me, the television, I get it. I know what's going on. But to anybody else taking a peek at me, it's just noisy and upsetting and it needs to be changed or turned off. There was an element of truth to Dan's commentary on how I'm maybe never really present. I'm always off doing some such thing. 

So in my pursuing of PhD programs, I've felt like...kind of bored. I have moments of excitement...like, make no mistake, the program at Denver that I'm (maybe) applying to is a fucking AMAZING program. So. Good. As tailored to my academic interests as any program...aside from the one in Seattle that I am not a good candidate for...can be. I think about accepting their invitation to be in the 2026 cohort and I'm like, YES! This will be AMAZING!!!! I have less excitement about Syracuse, and my choice for Syracuse would be more about doing the adult, responsible thing. I could for sure make myself something wonderful if I accepted their invitation to be in the 2026 cohort, and it would come with a lot of stable benefits that Denver just can't offer...but I am also occasionally caught up in excitement about Syracuse. But like...mostly I just feel like I am doing it because it's the next logical progression of my academic career, not necessarily because I feel passion about it. 

I do not think I do feel passion about my PhD. And Derek's marketplace opening and seeing the options available to use has really opened my eyes to that. 

Derek got the following options:

Washington State, Texas, Texas, Georgia, New York, North Carolina, Europe

That is the order Derek put in for. He put Washington State first, it's been my big want (other than Europe and Alaska) the entire time we've been together. He put the two Texas positions and the Georgia position as his next three choices, and we're hoping that if that's a slot he gets, we can parlay that into a compassionate reassignment and instead go to a queer friendly state, likely Colorado or New York. The other part of the reason for choosing those states is the PhD programs for me. I've known about the locations of the PhD programs for a couple of years...I've been really researching what programs I wanted to apply to...but when Derek's marketplace opened with Washington, I was so fast to say, "pick Washington." When Derek said, "uh, what about your PhD programs", my immediate...and I mean IMMEDIATE response...was, "I would rather spend four years in Washington". And I meant it. 

Derek and I have talked more in depth about what it would mean if he gets Washington as far as my career goes. Derek very much wants me to pursue my PhD and become a professor, he believes in my abilities to see success in the things I have been saying academia needs, and I love that about him. It's lovely to feel like someone believes in you. But like...I don't think I actually want to do it. A part of me wants to do it...but most of me just...doesn't. I am an academic that is so not an academic, and I have no lasting desire to participate in a system that I have been researching how to divorce ourselves from because it's corrupt, it's broken, it's racist, it's sexist, it's queerphobic, it's ableist, and I can still advocate the change in academia that it needs without being entrenched in the same shit. I don't know how strong my mind is, man, who's to say I wouldn't just be like...no, actually, academia is fine! after a few years of being deep in its guts? Not me! Physician know thyself, and I do, and I think there is an aspect of myself that is a thoughtless, cowardly pushover. Best to not indulge her. 

I told Derek I would still apply for the programs, but all my head is saying is, "ok, do it, but it's not even a top priority, if we're being honest". It would just be a thing to do. If Derek gets a TX or GA spot and we submit for compassionate reassignment...I kinda just wanna submit that CR for Washington. If we end up submitting for CR in CO or NY, I don't think it will be for my PhD. I think it will be to get our forever home (NY) or to spend a few extra years adventuring around (CO). 

I don't know if I'm just listless right now, or if I just don't actually have ONE singular passion and everything I'm interested in is at the same volume so nothing seems louder than anything else, or if some secret third thing, but I have no fucking idea what I'm supposed to be doing. 

Do you know how BORING a career sounds to me? Barf. I love being a photographer, but is that forever? Unlikely. I love being a caregiver...kind of...but is that forever? No. I love being involved in my community, and while that IS forever, I do not want to be so cynical as to turn that into a job. I love being at home, but that's also boring. There's so much to do and so much to experience and so many places to visit and how is ANYBODY expected to go to work when there are bugs and mountains and sunsets and people and rocks and food and crepuscular rays and birds? 

I die at the end of everything. There is no scenario where that doesn't happen, and I keep saying to both myself and other people...I just don't see myself regretting not getting a PhD when I'm at death's door. How could I possibly give a single fuck about a PhD when there is so very much life to live and smells to smell and outside things to learn? Send me to Washington. Send me to Washington and let me hunt for agates on the beaches and travel to Oregon to see Oneonta Gorge and the ghost forest and Crater Lake and go see all of the National Parks and let me miss the snow while running around Multnomah Falls and learning new plant identification for foraging. What is a PhD against any of those things.

I initially went to college to try and make Dan see me as his speed,  his kind of person. Worthy. I stayed in college to make myself believe it. I graduated with honors with both my BA and my MA. And I left academia completely disillusioned with its necessity, hating every inch of it, and feeling some type of way about the hows, whys, and means with which I excelled in it. I immediately considered a PhD as the next logical step, was told I was maybe a little too autistic for it, and I spent a year internalizing that and feeling ANOTHER type of way about it. I think somewhere I want to get my PhD just so I can finger wag and prove to naysayers I am NOT too autistic for academia. I think somewhere in me, I also just want the validation that I'm a competitive candidate, that I am  worthy of a bankrupt institution that I hate (don't ask me why this is a factor. I was brought up to think degrees were the pinnacle of achievement)...and I might even apply JUST to get the acceptance letters...which I feel fairly good about. I've talked with each of the directors dozens of times, I've spoken with faculty, I've found mentors to recommend me, I've gotten my letters of rec, I have my fucking statements of purpose written. My applications are essentially done...but like. I'm reluctant to pull the lever on submitting them. And it's the ultimate tell. 

Drea in her mid twenties would be shocked by Drea in her forties. Not even to make a milquetoast huckster love you, I can hear her saying? Not fuckin' even. I can do it. There is interest in my field of research, I've been given stipends and commendations for my commitment to my field. I've accomplished a lot. And I honestly care less about that than I do sitting in my garden and feeling the fall breeze while my chickens run around being terrors to the dirt. 

I didn't know if I had settled on not applying. I knew I was close. Derek was upset when I mentioned it the other day, and took it as a lack of desire on my part to actually help the queer community in the ways I want to, and he chastised me for that. He's wrong and silly for that, of course, but I felt a momentary urge to go through with my PhD for the same reasons I enrolled in school in the first place: what if Derek no longer thought I was worthy of anything? Do I need to prove myself academically for a man until I'm fucking dead, and can I ever catch a god damn break? 

I just hate academia. What a fucking slog. So I think that settles it for me. I do not think I'm going to get my PhD. If this is a crisis of confidence, and I end up going for My PhD after all, I will be surprised, but not that surprised. I am flighty. Dan clocked it almost twenty years ago. Maybe flighty is the wrong word. I'm too unserious about participating in society and too serious about the world to feel like I need a PhD to be good. My interests are too varied and my time is too fucking short to waste it. 

Bring me the mountains. Bring me the sea. Bring me a garden. I'll find them if you can't.