A Man and His Dogs

Last week, for his birthday, Bob and I went to a concert at the amphitheater on the mountain at Sundance. We sat and watched as three singer/songwriters discussed their lives and the years they had spent pouring their souls into their music. As I watched one women in particular tell us the story of her difficult years through the intensity, I found myself wishing that I had some outlet like songwriting that would enable me to internalize my feelings and express them in a healthy way.

It was then that I resolved to write more often. We'll see if I can follow through with it this time.

Ten Years

The Guardhouse at the Top of Machu Picchu. (Yeah, I'm posting new pictures one at a time to give my fellow readers something to look forward to.)

As I turned on my computer this morning and fired up my RSS reader, I was surprised to read the news that today was the tenth anniversary of the shootings at Columbine. As the day went on and everyone chatted about their surprise so much time had passed and the discussions about what everyone remembered about that day I had a lot of things flash through my mind I hadn't thought about in years.

I was an eighth grader living in the suburbs of Denver at the time, I was attending middle school on April 20, 1999. I remember the lunch room, and looking up at the clock at 11:20. Later we learned that was the time that the shooters entered the high school, but I was just checking to see how much time I had to finish my Chick-Fil-A chicken nuggets. (Yeah, my middle school had fast food, didn't yours?)

That afternoon I was sitting in English. The principal came to the classroom door and murmured something to my teacher Ms Byrne (Known for her tough classes, short skirts, and love of the Denver Broncos. She would give you an A regardless of your performance if you got her something signed by a member of the team.) It was a warm spring day and she had her outside door open. She slammed it shut, locked it, and sat down at her desk looking shaken.

The rest of the day I remember in bits and pieces. I remember sitting on the bus staring out at the pond by my house wondering exactly what this would mean for me. I remember my mother's face and her nearly painful hug as I walked in from school. I remember I was wearing overalls with chapstick in the front pocket. (Yeah, and I'm sure they were sexy too.) I remember friends and relatives calling in from around the country to make sure that we were all okay.

What I remember most, and what has had the greatest impact, is what happened next. My school went under lockdown for the rest of the school year. Armed policemen (with big guns I remember) stood at the entrances and if you entered the school during school hours you had to ring a doorbell and the policemen got to scrutinize you, even if you were just coming in from a run with the rest of your gym class. I remember schools closing at a moment's notice due to bomb threats, things that were no longer stupid jokes by seniors. I remember walking the grounds at Columbine, visiting the grassy hills I had seen students fleeing from on television days earlier. We brought white flowers, and I got to see my childhood hero, Stone Phillips. I vividly remember the school sign's message, "GO BAND".

Mostly though, I remember the fear. School was always a safe place, though at times it could be scary if you had done something wrong or had a verbal report to present, but it was never dangerous. I had never had to worry about my fellow students or anything so raw as guns and bombs. School was not safe, life was not safe; a difficult concept for a thirteen-year-old to process.

I learned a lot of lessons in the aftermath of that Spring day. It was my first real interaction with mortality and the reality of life, something that I have since become intimately familiar with. There was a lot of speculation that the boys were angry because of their music, their video games, their movies, their parents, their bullies; and I understand the need to find a cause and fix the catalyst that would cause two children to mercilessly kill their classmates; but there is no way to comprehend some things that happen in our lives. They are senseless, mind-blowing, life-changing, and we must have faith that somehow there is a plan for all of us and that we don't need to have all of the answers, because someone else does.


My blog posts have all been quite heavy as of late... I suppose it's because I'm down and working through some stuff. I'll try and post some more uplifting things soonish.

The Sacred Valley

Me at the Sacred Valley of the Incas.

Last month we commemorated the year anniversary of the passing of my sister Jocie. It was a sad day, but mostly it was happy. As with most of these events, the anticipation is usually much worse than the day itself; I dealt with most of my demons earlier in the week. It was happy because my family made it to the one year mark, changed people, but we made it. I found the aftermath of "Jocie's accident" as my mother calls it, strange and hollow initially but now that's come to be normal. It's become normal to have an even boy/girl ratio in my family, normal to watch my parents cry, normal to have a nagging feeling when we're together that someone isn't there. Because she isn't. But even that is becoming normal. A depressing normal, but one that we need to come to terms with nonetheless.

I feel obligated in some ways to talk about these things because it's good for me, but also because I know that there are people out there suffering with loss in all of its forms; whether it's loss of a sister, friend, pet, or just a lost dream; regardless I think that the only way to get through these unthinkably difficult times is to reach out to our friends and family and to let them help shoulder the burden when we have become broken under its weight.

Unbelievably, not all that has come out of this accident is sorrowful. Most notably, my relationship with my sister Dione has changed in ways I never would have imagined before. We've always been like oil and water, as different in personalities as we are in looks, though most wouldn't realize it because we act the same in public. Now we have no choice, we have to make it work. I was sick a couple of weeks ago and Bob was out of town; Dione heard from my mother and dropped everything, driving through a blinding snowstorm to sit up the night with me before leaving early the next morning to make it to her classes. I know that we loved each other before, but I don't think that either of us would have made such a sacrifice, such a gesture. Now we appreciate our relationship; we've both lost a sister.

We've had one hell of a year, but we're still here. The relationships that weathered the storm are stronger now than ever. We are more honest, less willing to play games, and we end our conversations with "I love you." You never know when you're not going to be able to say it again.

I still have days where I can't breathe because I miss her so much, but those are spreading further and further apart, and mostly I just think about how great she was and how much I miss having her around. I don't think that I will ever stop missing her, or mourning her. I don't think there's any way to "return to normal," but there is a way to move forward. I also don't think I'll ever fully resolve the 'why' of such a senseless tradgedy, at least not in this life. But I've come to terms with that, most days anyway.

If you're ever struggling with loss or grief or know someone who is and would like to help them, I'd love to be there for you like so many people were for me. I'd love to earn the mitzvah.

Cuzco-topia!

Last month, Bob and I took another jet-setting adventure. This time, we went to Peru. It's taken me forever to blog about this because a lot of crap happened, and then I just got lazy. I'm not going to lie to you folks, it just wouldn't be fair.

This is a picture of the main square in Cuzco with a view of the main Cathedral. The base of this and many other buildings in Cuzco are remains of the orignal Incan temples/houses. The Spanish came, conquered the Incans, gave many of the natives smallpox, and destroyed their buildings, putting their own directly on the previous foundations. Stupid Europeans.

These are the ruins of an elaborate fort right outside the city of Cuzco called Sacsayhuamán (pronounced sort of like sexy woman). The only stones left are those that the Spanish couldn't carry off.

Machu Picchu as you first come upon it. This is definitely the most incredible place I've ever been, there was a really cool vibe about it and the place was shrouded in mystery. I suppose the clouds that habitually roll in over the mountaintops do a lot to help said mystery. Also, we hiked to the top of that mountain in the background, the one half covered in clouds. It was awesome.

We have hundreds of pictures, but I don't really have the heart to search through them all for my very favorites. If you want to see more, I guess you'll have to invite us over for dinner, or do the pop-in!

Blogging is theraputic, I'm glad to be back.

Afternoon Delight

We went searching for ghost towns a few weeks ago in the Oquirrh Mountains, and here is Sammi, freaking out to be out of the truck and into the wilderness.  (Note the 'No Trespassing' sign in the background.)

It feels nice to be out in the mountains enjoying the fresh air and the fall scenery before winter finally surrounds us.  Usually I'm excited for fall to relinquish its brief and tenuous hold on Utah, but this year I'm nervous for winter to come around.  I don't feel like I'm ready to make the decisions that winter brings with it, I'm unprepared to face the snow and the holidays and the changes.  Winter seems like a snowball, deftly gathering speed as it rolls, until it has grown larger than life and is ready to engulf us all.

But maybe it is like many things in life, the anticipation is the worst part of the game.  Perhaps this year winter will mean only pleasant trips to sunny places, perfect powder days, and hot cocoa at the close of it all.  I'm trying to be optimistic, is it working?

Regardless, I am thankful for all of the love and support I feel on a daily basis.  I'm grateful for my life, my loved ones, and my gifts; and though I may wish for some things to be different, I would never want to trade places with anyone.

Happy Ho Ho Turkey Day!

Adorable Fix

Isn't this the cutest picture ever? Bob and our friends' son Grant at a wedding we attended recently. It's your adorable fix for the day.

San Juan Island Pictures

For this week's pictures I'm going to highlight a few of my more artistic shots from our Fawson Family Vacay to the San Juan Islands this past summer.  It was around this time that I really started to get into photography, and I spent a lot of time on this trip trying things out, seeing what worked and what didn't.  Here are a few of my favorites.

From the clothesline in the backyard of the house we rented.

The lavender farm.  This place smelled incredible.

The Lime Kiln State Park where we were whale-watching.  Obviously there were no whales to watch when this picture was taken.

Fence outside our house.

A barn next to our house.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!

Once again it is October 21, and my birthday! To commemorate my twenty-three years on this earth, I put together some pictures of myself for your enjoyment.
This is one of the oldest pictures I have of myself courtesy of my first digital camera which I got for my nineteenth birthday, Fall 2004. I used to love taking pictures of myself late at night and then photoshopping them. This picture, however, us untouched.

Here is one of my favorite engagement pictures, and the photo that was in the center of our announcement, Spring 2005. See how happy I look?!

My bridal pictures, Summer 2005. I was told to spin. When I concentrate I tend to stick out my tongue. I guess spinning in a dress and train is pretty difficult stuff!

Skiing at Beaver Mountain, Winter 2005. Look how awesome that powder looks in the background! The sun is very shiny, that's why my eyes are shut, I have a hard time with shiny.

Summer 2006 we went to nearly all of the national parks/state parks in Utah and several surrounding states. This is a hike in one of those parks, don't ask me which. I believe the gray mass behind me was a 'salt upheaval.'

This is me graduating from college, Spring 2007! That hat was seriously bugging.

Here I am at a Vietnamese optometrist getting fit for ridiculously cheap 'Gucci' glasses, Summer 2007. This is how they determined my prescription. Do you see how shiny I am? It was so hot and humid there, and no air-con anywhere!

This is me at Hamilton's restaurant a couple of weeks ago, Fall 2008. I'm telling my dad how to operate my camera, don't I look lovely?

Thank you for that trip through memory lane, and I hope this next year brings new and wonderful things. And if you see me today, you should sing me a song.

Fawsonberger Candy Tournament 2008 - Round 1

I was recently reading the October edition of The Plug in which two contributors undergo a candy tournament.  After reading the tournament's outcome and discussing it with my friend Jamey, we decided to undergo a tourney of our own and see who the true candy champion is.  This is a documentation of the first round of that tournament....  (Competitors were drawn randomly out of a hat.)

Milk Dud's vs. Reese's - A tie in our first competition!  Tiebreaker went to Dave, since Bob was eating dinner.  He chose Milk Dud's for their in your face taste.

Skittles vs. York - York.  Hands down, this was an easy one.

Nerds vs. Nibs - Nibs.  We're on a roll now!

Tootsie Roll vs. Caramello - Caramello wins for it's smooth caramel center and overall satisfaction levels.

Peanut M&M vs. Heath -  This one went into tie-breaker where Bob, after much deliberation, chose Peanut M&M's.

3 Musketeers vs. Snickers - Those 3 Musketeers ran straight back to France after this football branded Snickers kicked them out of the ballpark.  (Do you like my mixed sports metaphors?)

Skor vs. Sugar Babies - I voted against Skor, Jamey voted for.  In tie-breaker, Skor was the easy winner.

Swedish Fish vs. KitKat - Here we diverge for the history of the name KitKat, and KitKat wins.

Whatchamacallit - We both randomly got green Dots, but they didn't hold up to the hidden joy of the Whatchamacallit!  

Butterfinger vs. Peanut Butter M&M's - This round went into tie-breaker...  Peanut Butter M&M's reign triumphantly! 

Gummy Worms vs. SweetTarts - I got a blue tart, Jamey got a red one; but still the gummy/i trumped!

Twix vs. Mr. Goodbar - Mr. Goodbar only made it into this round because it is Bob's favorite candy, though quite disgusting.  Incidentally, there was something wrong with the Twix bar, so the vote was unanimously Mr. Goodbar.

Almond Joy vs. Nutroll - Almond Joy, easy peasy.

100 Grand vs. Starburst - The Starburst were the blue 'California' flavors, and easily defeated the 100 Grand bar.

PayDay vs. Charleston Chew - Mmmmm.... Charleston Chew!  Better frozen, but still enough to beat the PayDay.

Jr. Mint vs. Good & Plenty - G&P's, one of my all time favorite candies, but mint is Jamey's lover.  So it went into a tiebreaker round.... Where Bob betrayed me by voting for Jr. Mints.

Here is Grant, ridiculously happy to be eating the loser candies.  (Only Dots did he call candy, and he dropped Nerds around him everywhere.  Needless to say, my dogs followed him like slaves all night long.)

Here we have Jamey and Dave with the empty tournament bracket.  They are obviously ecstatic to have a night of binge candy eating ahead of them...

Check soon for the next round of the candy tournament!!!

The Many Faces of.....DEAN GARLICK

If you haven't heard my dad's patented answering machine greeting  call him or call me up and we'll be happy to give you a demonstration. 

The Garlick family was out for the first annual Jiggy Day Celebration.  (A day in which you give in to all of your material desires, dress like fools (e.g. checkered tights), give away ridiculous presents, and enjoy yourself.  Catch it next October 8th!)  I asked my dad to pose for the camera without using his classic 'smile.'

"Smile for the camera, dahling!"

"Serious!  Now let's see serious."

"Angry face!  Oh, that's fierce."

Ah, cheap thrills.  Hamilton's restaurant, October 8, 2008.

No Paranthesis

Brighton, Top o' Millicent Lift, February 2008.  We got dirty looks from lifties for this picture.

since feeling is first

who pays any attention to the syntax of things

while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,

and kisses are a far better fate

than wisdom

lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry

--the best gesture of my brain is less than 

your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for eachother: then

laugh, leaning back in my arms

for life's not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

--e e cummings

Celebration, Jiggy Style

This past weekend I gathered, along with many friends, family, and relative strangers; to celebrate the life of my sister, Jocie Garlick, and the birth of a memorial on top of Beaver Mountain.  I haven't written a lot about what happened to my family six months ago, in part because this is a very public forum for such personal details, but mostly because I don't think that I am ready to.  The emotions are still too raw to internalize and then spit out in the manner I usually employ for my writings.  I think about writing about it, about her, about the aftermath, all the time; I suppose that's good enough for now.

During the program, Jocie's closest friends let go of 99 (give or take, I heard a lot of popping noises) red balloons.  I didn't get to see much of this part of the program, as in the moment this picture was taken, Dione and I started performing 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow' (With both of us singing and I on guitar, brave I know.).  I had given my camera to Heady, Bob's sister, and she took this, as well as many other incredible pictures.  I just love the look on these girls' faces.  It makes me cry and smile at the same time.

I also include this self-portrait of Heather 'Heady' Fawson.  A word for the wise, if you want lovely pictures taken while you're busy, give your camera to Heather.  But beware, it will come back with several self-portraits, and undoubtably, a picture of Jayme Champlin in there too.  (I think this is the corner of her head here.  That blonde bit right by the sky there.)

Battery Bob

This is a picture of Bob sitting on a park bench in Battery Park, at the southern tip of Manhattan during our recent trip to New York at the beginning of September.  We were on our way to the Statue of Liberty/Ellis Island when I insisted on taking a bunch of pictures and Bob sat down to Crackberry.

POW!

I have decided to instigate a 'picture of the week' for my blog.  This week's picture is from our trip last August to the San Juan Islands with the rest of the Fawson clan.  I took this on our sunset kayaking ride, which was amazing.  As is often the case, the picture does not do the scene justice.