Sleep Cycles

Back in November, I took an overnight flight to Atlanta, Georgia for an SLP conference. It wasn't an ideal plane schedule (who wants to attend an all day lecture after a red-eye?) but I wasn't really worried because me and Sleep are on a first-name basis and I was pretty sure I'd get enough shut-eye to last through the next day. Unexpectedly, however, I found myself tossing and twisting (as much as you can in a plane seat), blinking blearily at the overhead light, and tuning in to baby cries, rustling paper, and the intermittent announcements regarding seatbelts. I finally dozed off with the help of my earphones and a sleep-mask I macgyvered out of some artfully draped hair and a barrette. It was the opposite of a restful night.

The restlessness bugged me. No. It more than bugged me. It annoyed me so much that I've thought about it for several months since, and am now writing this extraordinarily long post about it. You see, I've come to consider sleeping as one of my top talents. You may laugh, but I'm not kidding. I have very genuine gratitude for my sleeping ability. Sure,  the downside might be that waking up is always a herculean effort. And there have been a few girl's night heart-to-hearts that ended awkwardly (for me) as my brain abandoned the conversation mid-sentence for some deep REM. But over all, the silver lining totally outweighs the cloud. I don't wake up to lights, traffic sounds, house noises, or midnight bathroom breaks. I've slept as restfully on couches and at desks as I have in my bed. And best of all, I rarely have to struggle to unwind at night; by the time I lay down its usually less than 4 minutes before I fall asleep.

Of course, this wasn't always the case. As a kid, going to bed was the WORST. My parents tried everything they could think of to help me fall (and STAY) asleep. Lullabies. Classical music. Stories. Relaxation routines. Stern talking-tos. You name it, they tried it. But what can I say? I had really terrifying nightmares that made the whole bedtime routine stressful for me. It was a losing battle from the start. What kid is going to willingly close their eyes when they know that monsters are waiting behind their lids?

I don't remember when, exactly, the nightmares stopped. They must have just wound down gradually, allowing me and Sleep to come to terms with each other. Sometime toward the end of high school I realized that I no longer needed my cassette player next to the bed with its stack of gentle, soothing tapes. My dreams had lost their terror, and I was free to sleep whenever I laid down. oh sweet victory.

until now.

I wish I could say that the flight to atlanta was an anomaly. But really, it was the defining moment that helped me acknowledge something  that has been gradually changing for years. FACT: I really can't sleep anywhere anymore. My back hurts when I camp - and even on some couches. I had to get a new bed because I couldn't sleep restfully on the one I had. I can no longer nap and then expect to fall asleep at a normal time that night. I wake up sometimes to my roommate opening the hallway cupboard. And worst of all, there have been a few nights when I've even had to wake up to go pee. But this doesn't mean any of the other stuff has changed - I still need a solid 8 hrs of sleep to be functional in my work day. I still have to scrape myself off my mattress each morning. I still fall asleep at inopportune times - but I can no longer count on sleep being there for me when I need it.

I wish that Sleep and I could sit down and have a heart to heart, maybe work out our differences before it gets worse and we break up for good, or - worse - Sleep trades spots with Nightmare again. But verbs are notoriously hard to pin down. So, with all the finesse of the sleep-deprived 10 yr old that still lives somewhere inside of me, I send this message out to the internet atmosphere, hoping it lands on the right ears.

Dear Sleep,
Want to be best friends?
I'll let you have my favourite pillow.

check the box
[ ] yes      [ ] no

yours truly,
Maria Burnham

Things I Learn From the Internet

I was perusing an online shopping website - as one naturally does the Friday after payday - and noticed that one of the filter options for a shoe search was labeled.... "flatforms"..... 

I was not aware this word existed. I was pretty sure it must be a new type of shoe, so I clicked the filter and feasted my eyes. As it turns out, its NOT a new type of shoe - I just never new this style of shoe was popular enough to warrant a name. And now, thanks to asos.com, YOU can feast your eyes, too. Personally I'm undecided as to whether the leopard print here makes these better in a Go Big or Go Home kind of way, or worse. But one thing is for sure: you know the first blush of youth is gone when your first thought on seeing a Latest Fashion is to sigh something like "oh, kids these day." (it is, and I did). 

September - San Juans sans the Orcas

What is the difference between good friends and best friends? Well, when you buy a sea kayak a good friend will give you a high-five and ask to see a picture. A best friend will borrow a kayak, convince her sea-savvy boyfriend to read up on local tide charts, and then take you on your first kayak trip. Last year, thanks to Kami (and Porter), we initiated the first annual kayak expedition. It was a hard expedition to beat with clear blue skies, a hot sun, and an escort of Orca Whales to carry us back in to harbour.

There were, sadly, no orca whales on this year's trip, but it was still memorable and awesome in its own way. We got ambitious this year (or rather, Porter did, since he is our kayak party-planner), and decided to kayak through the san juans. We left from Anacortes and paddled something ridiculous like 17 miles to Clark Island. It was tortuous and horrible, with moments of absolute awesome that made up for everything else. We kayaked through thick soupy fog, paddled against the tide, and made it through the large and choppy channels of the Sound (with half of our group spray-skirt-less, no less). 

I spent the entire trip eating dust, figuratively speaking. Most of the group paddled forward with seaming effortlessness while I fought against my screaming deltoids to just keep my arms moving. I try to blame it on the lesser quality of my boat vs the pretty kevlar boats of my friends. But truth be told, its probably just a difference in strength and/or fitness. Fighting the tide and your own body's weariness is super hard. Add on the emotional component of watching the boats in front get so far ahead that you actually can not see them anymore, and it is easy to feel melodramatic emotions like despair. Thank goodness for the friends that took turns waiting behind with me, who helped kept the melodrama (mostly) at bay. Eventually... we all made it safe and sound.  

There is a special power in doing hard things that doesn't come from anything else. You hate it in the moment, but feel infinitely empowered when you succeed. Here's to next year's trip - I'm crossing my fingers for the Broken Group off of Vancouver Island. And thinking I need to join a gym so maybe I can keep up with the group next year. 

September - the california chapter

In september, my friend Kristi invited me to join her in Yosemite National Park. We hiked Half Dome, jumped in the river, and did our best to avoid the hantavirus. It was gorgeous and the weather was perfect - nothing like a weekend of 90 degrees in mid september to make everything right in the world.

What is it about climbing tall things and peaking over the edge? Add in the miles and miles of forested peaks, and the experience can make you breathless. There's something about national parks that always makes me wonder what it was like to be the first person to ride through, and then imagine myself making the trek as an early American trapper or (preferably) a Louis L'Amor cowboy. Its amazing how the mystery and allure can still come across, even in the midst of a horde of tourists and flashing cameras.

Despite the fact that my 30 year old knees gave out, making the trip down torturous, the trip was a total win.

Perfect Fall Days

This fall has been amazing. We've had an incredible run of blue skies with the perfect amount of crispness in the air. The clear nights have also been dreamy with lots of moon and rustling leaves. I know I've spent an obnoxious amount of time over the last 2 years complaining about the Seattle weather. While I still maintain that the weather here is undesirable 95% of the time, I'm not ashamed to admit that when she gets it right, she gets it SO right. Well played, Seattle. And thank you. Here's to many more perfect, dreamy days to come. i know I will have to wait many many (many!) months for them to come around again but with days this great, it almost feels worth the wait.

Obligatory First Post

True to form, I’m at least a decade behind on this “personal blog” phenom that has swept the Internet world. To be honest, I’m not super into publically broadcasting details from my life; I don’t tweet, I don’t post, and I barely facebook. However, despite my tendency towards a more-than-healthy reserve, I’ve been thinking lately that it would be nice to have a place where I can record fun adventures I go on and the small moments in my sometimes predictable life.

Its possible this inclination stems from a desire to convince the world (or myself, at least) that predictable lives are not necessarily boring, and to remind myself that I really do like my life (and yes.. During the cold grey months of winter, this reminder is occasionally necessary). Partly, also, because my family and friends have blogs, and this seems like a good way to maintain long-distance friendships that get tragically sporadic amid the business of adult life. And partly because, thanks to my good friends Kami and Brooke, I’ve recently been reminded that I want to WRITE, and right now blogging seems like the only realistic commitment to that goal.

Regardless of the reasons, here it is: My Blog.  With a title coined from the first syllable of each of my names simply  because every other combination of my name was already taken on the World Wide Web. What?! I know. The internet strikes again and we are all one more step removed from the illusion of uniqueness. 

I know my favourite part of a blog is usually the pictures. In fact, I am guilty of skimming or (gasp) skipping posts with too many words. In a bold move of brashfaced hypocrisy I hereby warn all readers, fleeting and permanent, that this blog may have a lot more words than photos.

Enjoy (or don’t – I’ll never know).