Tag: Freelance

11..., Lifestyle

11… Ways I’m Forgiving Myself

RaeAnna

I can’t believe a third of the year has already passed us by. I was really hoping to make some positive changes in my life within 2021’s first few months. Unfortunately, I have been struggling to even come up with a modicum of productivity. 

Just out here looking for forgiveness…. | Black Dress |

I am going to lay a lot of that blame at COVID’s figurative feet. Not just COVID existing in the world. I haven’t talked about it on this platform yet, but COVID entered my home right after Christmas. My partner ended up in the hospital for three weeks and on oxygen for another three. I really struggled to make it through the worst parts of it myself. More than three months later, we’re both dealing with the aftermath of COVID. Breathing is still difficult. I get fatigued so easily. Life has slowed down significantly as we recover. I am not able to go-go-go the way I like to or am used to. So a lot of things fell by the wayside. Pretty much anything that has not been an absolute necessity has gone untended, and even some of the necessities. So fuck you, COVID, my year could have been better without you!

There has been more and more talk of self-care in the world. Self-care looks different from person to person. I’m really the last person to talk about it because I’m really bad at doing it myself. So this is not a post about that. But in my effort to be kinder to myself and try to reduce some of my mental load and anxieties, I’m going to extend eleven forgivenesses from me to me in an effort of self-care and self-preservation. 

I’m also forgiving myself for not posting this last week/yesterday like I had planned on… because I ran out of time and the physical ability to get it done the day after Easter/yesterday I decided to clean the entire house/the dogs/disinfect dog boxes, which is a chore.

Sending myself flowers as an apology to me. (from Amanda Bee’s because duh)
  1. I forgive myself for the stack of books I’ve read and not reviewed. This sounds trivial, but a huge part of …on the B.L. is book reviews. I started out as a book blogger, and though I don’t identify solely as a book blogger, it’s still an integral part of my platform and life. I quite literally majored in reading real good. Having been depressed, anxiety riddled, and ill for the last year, I’ve done a lot of reading and very little reviewing. So I forgive myself for not reviewing. I couldn’t do it. I did not have the mental bandwidth to write more than I absolutely had to. So instead of writing all the backlog reviews, I’m going to write reviews for the ones I really want to write reviews for. I will do a big post about all the ones I’ve read and am not reviewing; partially because I really like some of the pictures taken. Going forward, I will try—try being the operative word—to write about all the books I’m reading. 
  2. I forgive myself for getting COVID. I have a lot of guilt about this. Dylan and I have been so extremely careful, and yet it entered our home and almost took his life—and mine but I’m ignoring the severity of my own situation. I feel shame over having COVID. Like I need to keep it a secret and not talk about it. I don’t know why I feel this way, but I do. 
  3. I forgive myself for ordering out. I love cooking, but I have found no joy in it the past  several months. So I have found myself ordering in a lot. Like a lot a lot. Like too much. I take solace in the fact I’m supporting small businesses who are struggling to survive through COVID.
  4. I forgive myself for not exercising. I can blame COVID for this one. I had been in a really good habit of exercising [semi]frequently, but then COVID hit my lungs. I’m still having a hard time getting up and going, so exercise has gone by the wayside for now.
  5. I forgive myself for having a short fuse. My fuse has been short for a whole BUNCH of reasons. I wish I had more patience right now, but I don’t. At this point, my patience is being reserved for the dogs. The people who have to deal with my fuse, or lack thereof, understand and are being incredibly understanding. But the dogs don’t have the same ability to understand mommy’s shortcomings and humanity, so I give them all my patience because I’m not going to make them neurotic with my frustrations.   
  6. I forgive myself for not writing. I write for a living both as a freelance writer and for this blog. I love it. I really love my job, and I feel incredibly lucky to get paid to do something that interests and stimulates me every day. But the things I want to dive into and explore more on the blog take a lot of emotional exploration and inevitably lead to breakdowns and breakthroughs, and I love that, but it’s hard. In a year where I’ve raised and gave away puppies while going through a pandemic… I haven’t been able to go there. So, I am forgiving myself for that because it does me no good to dwell on what I haven’t accomplished. 
  7. I forgive myself for not socializing the puppies more. After buying a house, the need to socialize the puppies at the dog park decreased because I have a backyard. They don’t need to play at the dog park the way Beau did when she was an only dog living in an apartment. They have tons of playmates and the space to be rambunctious ding dongs. I still feel bad that they haven’t had that experience but a) we’ve been staying in because of COVID b) socializing five dogs—four puppies—is a lot of work and I didn’t have it in me. 
  8. I forgive myself for not working as much. This isn’t completely my fault, but I could’ve done more to work more. The pandemic hit my work load hard because my clients were hit hard. So the work dwindled. In a way, that was a blessing; it gave me time to raise puppies, rest, and not work when I had COVID. 
  9. I forgive myself for not sending Thank You cards last year on my birthday. I ALWAYS send Thank You cards when I get presents. My 29th birthday landed in the beginning of a pandemic but also in the middle of raising thirteen very needy puppies. I had no time…. And it fell by the wayside. I’m trying not to feel bad about that. 
  10. I forgive myself for being a lesser friend. I try to be a good friend. I try to show up, stay in touch, reach out, send notes, get together, and all those good things. In 2020 and 2021, so far, I have been a lesser friend. I feel bad, but I couldn’t be there for people the way I like to be. 
  11. I forgive myself for putting myself, my happiness, my mental health first. I’m not used to putting me first. And I’m terrible at asking other people to make me a priority, treat me well, give and not just take, and more. I’m not good at demanding the respect I deserve. No one taught me that. So at 29, I’m trying to be better about only accepting and keeping people in my life who are good for me. 

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

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Blog + Dog

Visiting Vienna; Life After The Puppies Left Me

RaeAnna
Vienna watching the horses in the pasture.
Vienna exploring the woods.
Being cautiously curious about the really big dogs!

When I brought Tess home, I would have never, in a trillion years, imagined my tiny dog would be filled with thirteen puppies. THIRTEEN! I just about had a heart attack when the vet came in with the news and the x-ray proof. It is still one of the wildest facts I’ve had to digest. I didn’t know what we were going to do with thirteen puppies. That’s thirteen births, thirteen mouths to feed, thirteen vaccinations, thirteen lives to watch over. Thirteen homes to find. I was mostly worried about the thirteen homes. 

I am a tiger mama. I would do anything for my babies. I knew I was not going to let the puppies go to just anyone. I vetted everyone who was interested in a puppy. I did home checks, interviewed, and made them sign contracts. I wanted to make sure every single puppy would be in a home that would love them and take care of them forever. I even made my very best friend and my parents sign a contract. There were zero exceptions made. Tiger mama. Even though nine of the puppies are no longer mine, there is nothing I would not do for them and their parents. Need a babysitter? I got you. Have a question at three in the morning? Call away. Want a hand to hold at the vet? Give me ten minutes. We’ve got this!

I found eight homes. Five found homes in Houston: two with my close friends, three with (now) new friends. One went to a wonderful home in Nebraska. Two stayed with my parents. One went to my best friend. Each and every person/family is lovely. They’re crazy dog parents like me. I couldn’t have asked for better families for them. Honestly, I’d let them all adopt me. Everyone has been beyond wonderful and keeps me updated with pictures and videos and anecdotes. It is just the best outcome I could have asked for. I have even gotten to dog sit for a few of them.  

Giving them up was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. If I could have kept them all, I would have. But that’s not fair to the puppies. They deserve to have all the attention. In a home full of dogs, I wouldn’t have been able to give them the attention they deserve. I found joy in pairing each puppy with the right family. Active puppies went with active people. Shy puppies went to families with patient hearts. The puppies attached at the hip stayed together. They all ended up exactly where they were meant to. And they are so incredibly happy and loved and safe. 

I never pressured anyone into a puppy because it’s a huge decision. A life changing decision. A financially, socially, emotionally, life altering entity coming into a home and peeing on things. A dog will be a part of your life for fifteen years (fingers crossed). They are family. My best friend, Alex, had been talking about adopting a dog someday. As in, not now. He wanted to get settled into his post-military life. I never even mentioned him taking a puppy because he’d been clear about a dog is for future Alex. Two weeks after the puppies were born, he said he wanted one. I thought he was joking. He wasn’t. I suggested March for him. She was the right combination of playful, active, funny, cuddly, and smart he needed. Each of the puppies is special, but she was specially suited for Alex. He met her at eight weeks old and fell in love. I delivered her to him on my birthday when she was twelve weeks. It was hard saying goodbye, but I knew I would get to see her again and watch her grow up. 

Vienna is an active girly, who loves to run and explore.

Before March was even four weeks old, Alex was sold. We video called often so he could see the puppies and “get to know” March. I told him to start thinking of a name so she could get used to her new name. They were all asleep in their various squishy shades of tan, brown, and black. He said, “They look like sausages; I’m going to name her Sausage.” I responded with, “No puppy for you. You can’t name her Sausage.” In his ever quippy manner, “Fine. I’ll name her Vienna. Vienna Sausage.” I tried to talk him into taking two so he could have a Vienna and a Genoa, but he is the very proud doggy daddy to Vienna. 

I was able to visit them in August when I went to Iowa. I was nervous she wouldn’t remember me, but she did. She is growing up into the sweetest and most playful dog. Her personality is really shining through now that she doesn’t have to compete with twelve other puppies for attention.

Raising puppies is hard work. Really hard work. Emotionally and physically exhausting work. Twelve weeks is not a long period of time, but it’s long enough to fall completely in love with thirteen individual puppies. For their personalities to be engraved on my heart. Being with them 24/7 is grueling but amazing. I watched them grow, see their eyes open, teach them how to eat solid food, clean up poop, and more. I got to know their unique personalities. Everyone asked which was the best puppy or who was my favorite. The truth is, I didn’t have a favorite. I couldn’t choose. They’re all perfect and special and wonderful. They’re so different. I love them all.  

The puppies have been with their furever families for three and a half months, and it is an absolute joy to watch all the puppies grow into themselves and their families. I know I did the right thing taking Tess in and caring for them until their furever families took over. I knew from the beginning it would break my heart, but it’s the good break. A happy break, knowing they’re in the best place for them. I miss them every day, and sometimes, I look through the thousands of pictures I have. The fact each family takes the time to keep me updated on their growth, development, health, and happiness means more to me than they could ever know. 

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

11..., Lifestyle

11… Reasons I Take Sporadic Breaks from Social Media

RaeAnna

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I’ve been hiding from the world for a week and a half. Beau hasn’t complained.

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If I can’t see the world, that means I’m successfully hiding. Beau is not convinced. | Pajamas | Sweater | Hat | Sheets | Bed Frame |

Every once in awhile I basically disappear from social media. I don’t consciously decide to take a break; it just happens. I won’t post for a week or two. It doesn’t mean I’ve quit, I’m just having an accidental social media detox. This is the first post in a week and a half; I was kinda done with life and needed to disentangle myself.

  1. I have a life, and I get busy. When life is happening, I don’t have time to post. 
  2. Being present with my loved ones and all the people I choose to spend time with will always be more important to me than posting at a certain time. 
  3. PTSD is a bitch. When I’m in the throws of a bad day or a bad week or a bad month, being a successful blogger is on the back burner. I’m just trying to hold it all together and not be a human puddle. 
  4. Traveling sucks up my time. When I’m behind the wheel, I’m obviously not going to post. 
  5. Sickness. I hate working when I’m sick, so I don’t. 
  6. BURN OUT!!! It’s real. I’ve been dealing with some burn out lately. Not necessarily because of Instagram or social media. Just burnt out in general on a lot of things. When the burn out hits, though, I’m gonna take a break. It can strike at any time.   
  7. Migraines are horrible. I refuse to stare at a bright screen when my head feels like home to a mutiny.
  8. I’m lazy. 
  9. Work takes up way more of my time than I would like it to. When I’m busy, I literally can’t stop the word flow to post. It can be hard to hold onto thought streams as a writer, so I refuse to interrupt it. 
  10. There are periods of time where I lose all brain activity and have zero original thoughts. At least, it feels like that is true. It’s hard to be an enthusiastic content creator when I don’t feel like I’m creative. 
  11. I’m not in the mood to deal with the fucking algorithm. The algorithm sucks, and I don’t want to deal with it. Instagram hates me, and I don’t want to deal with the shitty, shitty interaction percentages because NO ONE sees what I post because Instagram withholds them because Instagram hates me. 

I’m never going to feel bad about not posting because it is my life and my feed. Being present is more important to me than having a plugged in and constantly curated social media existence. I love my job. I love being a blogger. I love connecting with everyone. I love sharing my life with each and every one of you. Sometimes, I need a vacation or mental break from being present all the time.  

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

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Hello, world. I’m blogging again after a small recess.

Blog + Dog

Ruff Holidays

RaeAnna

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High fives for making it home alive.

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She’s excited to be able to go outside without three coats.

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Puppy kisses are the best kisses.

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There is no place like our chair. | [the softest] Pajamas | Bralette | Glasses | Blanket | Chair
As much as I love the holidays, sometimes they are really stressful. Holidays 2019 ended up stressing me out, but Beau was the one who suffered the most. She had a really rough holiday trip. It did not go so great for her, but the last leg was really the worst. 

People always wonder how Beau does in the car for long periods of time. Honestly, she does great. I think she does a better job handling the car rides than I do. Then again, she gets to sleep, and we’d all die if I did that. So no issues there. 

Beau stayed with Dylan and his family when I ran up to [not literally, I drove] my best friend’s in Minnesota. Dylan’s family has a German Shepherd, named Harley. He’s a lovely dog, but he likes to be all up in Beau’s face all the time. She loves to play, but she also likes to spend 92.3% of her time lying on the couch, sleeping. There was a ton of things going on combined with the dog, so Beau was on edge and stressed out of her mind. 

On Christmas Eve, Beau came to my family’s house. She did really well except for the cats. She wanted to play with the cats and give them all the mouth cuddles. I really do mean mouth cuddles; she didn’t want to hurt them, but she loves to mouth things. Suffice to say, she was crazy pants, and it stressed me out. My hand got scratched up by one of the cats because I got between them during a “CUDDLE ME!!!”/“DON’T FUCKING COME NEAR ME” encounter. Come to find out: If I left her alone in the house with the family, she didn’t mess with the cats…. I swear, dogs are just like kids. They’re on their best behavior when the parents aren’t around. I’d rather have her behave when I’m not around and test her boundaries when I am, though.  

So far so good. All of these things are completely manageable. A pain in the ass, but manageable. Part of life in a family. Part of life with a dog. 

What made the trip really hard was at my parents’ house in Ames, Iowa. What happened was no one’s fault. I’m not harboring any anger, but it was traumatic for Beau and for me. This past fall, my parents’ rescued a new dog. His name is Barney, and he’s very sweet. We don’t know anything about his background, but he’s getting used to his new life in my parents’ house. 

We pulled into my parents’ driveway just after dark and in the rain. We took the truck because it’s easier on Dylan’s back for long drives. We left Beau in the truck while we unloaded everything from the bed into the garage. Dylan let Beau out of the truck; Dad didn’t have a hold of Barney, and I was in the truck grabbing a few other things. All of a sudden, I heard snarling and screeching and yelling. I dropped everything and ran around the back of the truck. Beau was on top of Barney, and they were spiralling. It was like a horrible, terrifying scene of the worst dog fight you’ve ever seen in a movie. Dylan and Dad were trying to get them apart. I jumped in and reached between them (you’re not supposed to do that, but I’ll be damned if anything or anyone hurts my dog). I picked Beau up and had her in my arms. She was screaming, and Barney was hanging off of her with his teeth on her throat. My dad ended up punching Barney to get him to let go of her. Beau makes a lot of noise and pins other dogs when she’s attacked, but she doesn’t ever bite. Barney didn’t have a scratch on him. We thought Beau was fine because nothing was evident at first. An hour later, I looked at Beau, and her neck was covered in blood. Dylan and I took her into the bathroom. She had huge gauge marks on her neck and tons of scratches on her ears. She didn’t whine or complain once as we cleaned it, covered her in antibiotics, and wrapped her neck in a towel to protect it. 

I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. It was so bad, but it could have been so much worse. It wasn’t Barney’s fault or Beau’s fault. They’re both rescues. These things happen. Barney is still getting acclimated to his environment. By the end of the trip, they were getting along much better, but I won’t be leaving Beau alone with him in a room. Accidents happen. Beau’s wounds are all scabbed over and healing nicely. She was an absolute trouper. I can’t believe how brave and strong she was through every cleaning and disinfecting. It still makes my stomach churn when I think about it, but it’s behind us now. 

We are VERY happy to be home. Beau is feeling much better after the holidays now that she’s in the comfort and predictability of home. We’ve been cuddling a LOT in our big comfy chair. The holidays are beautiful, but the everyday pieces of life are my favorite bits. I wouldn’t change these simple beautiful moments with Beau for anything in the whole wide world. Our chair is our happy place. I’m watching her snore, curled up in the chair as I type away. 

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

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That’s the are you out of treats? face.

11..., Lifestyle

11…

RaeAnna

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I love watching nature. | Dress | Shoes | Sunglasses |

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My dog is my life. Don’t mess with her. | Pajamas | Headband |

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I will do many, many things for a picture for the blog. | Shirt | Shorts | Shoes | Sunglasses |

I’m going to be embarking on a lot of new things here …on the B.L. Because I love blogging and writing, but I want to do more of the things that bring me happiness and fulfillment. Books and book reviews are great, but I need to write about other more important-to-me things. The things I’m going to be writing about more don’t always exude happiness and rainbows. I don’t want to be a total downer because I spend most of my time laughing, so being Eyeore all the time on the blog would be an utter betrayal of who I am. 

On Mondays, or on as many Mondays as I can manage, I will be posting 11…, which is a new blog series I’m introducing today! It will be a list of eleven things, people, places, whos-its, whats-its, and randoms on whatever topic I decide to write about on that particular day. Most of them will be humorous, some will be informative, some will be dark, and there will be everything in between. For the very first 11… I will be talking about myself because I haven’t done a random list of things about me in a good while. So why not now!

  1. 5’10” I am super tall for a lady and technically for a man. The global average height for a man is 5’9”, so technically I’m better than over half the men in the world. Or at least, that’s what I’m telling myself. (I have tiny feet for my height: a size 7. This is directed at all the weirdos who message me about my feet on Instagram. Now you know, go away.)
  2. Musically Inclined Fun fact, I’m a classically trained pianist. I’m rusty, but it’s all there still! I can play the flute and was in a super select flute choir all four years of high school – I hated it and regret it, but it’s a fun(?) fact. I was also in choir in college – it’s how I met Alex of the many blog posts – and have a five octave range. My car singing is legendary, and everyone who’s experienced it is now deaf.
  3. Bollywood I have an undying love of Bollywood movies. In my dreamer’s heart of hearts, I want to be a Bollywood star. They make me happy when skies are grey. I have been obsessed since college. If I ever get the chance to be in a Bollywood movie, I would die happy. So please let me know if you know of an opportunity.
  4. PTSD I have it. It’s a long-ass story, and I will get to it, but today is not the day!
  5. Carousels I LOVE carousels. On my 23rd birthday, I made Kelsey (my best friend til death us do reunite in the place I will never again experience a chill) ride a carousel with me eight times. The only reason we stopped is because she gave me the look. If I see one, I will squeal, jump, and point. Words will not come out of my mouth, but I will grab your arm and tug – pull with great force in the direction of the carousel – to indicate I want a ride or twelve. 
  6. Polyglot Technically, I speak five languages. I’m a native English speaker. I have proficiency in French and Russian. I can get myself around the respective countries with my German and Spanish. 
  7. Chinese Food I believe with absolute certainty that Chinese food has magical healing powers. When I am sick or suffering from any ailment, Chinese food will help if not completely fix the situation. I have yet to be proven wrong. 
  8. Professionally Trained Ballerina For a very long time, I dreamed of being a professional ballerina. I worked super hard at it and didn’t completely suck. I ended up quitting due to injuries and being super tall and my parents’ poverty. I still love dancing more than just about anything. Fun fact: Ballerinas are not tall individuals. 
  9. Private Plane I secretly not so secretly want a private plane. This is absolutely unrealistic, I know. I want one because I want to see the world with my dog, and I think this would be far easier if we had a private plane because we could go wherever whenever without worrying about a dog on a plane with other people and their allergies. Really, it would be a public service. I did the math, I only need 99.99 million more dollars to responsibly buy a private plane and the staff it requires. I’m saving. 
  10. Pantsless I am pantsless 87% of the time because I’m a stay-at-home dog mom. Kidding kind of… I’m a dog mom, and I stay at home, but really it’s because I work from home. I’m a freelance writer, editor, and translator. It’s a great gig. I love it, even though my social life pretty strictly involves baby talk to a nonhuman. If you need a writer, hit me up. I promise I will try harder with your work than with my blog.  
  11. Three Majors and An Emphasis in Four Years I somehow managed to graduate college without ever checking into a hospital for exhaustion in four years with degrees in Literature, French, and Russian with an emphasis (basically a minor) in Literary Analysis and Translation. It’s basically a degree in reading super good. 

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Experiences, Travel

Axpona

RaeAnna

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My dad getting his geek on at Axpona.

 

My dad has an obsession with stereo equipment to the point he builds his own to my mother’s dismay. (Watching Deadpool with those speakers is definitely cool.) Last year, he went to Axpona in Chicago. He called me the night after and gushed for an hour about all the amazing stuff he saw. It was obvious to the deaf and blind he couldn’t wait to go next[this] year. I’m a little bit obsessed with my dad (if you knew him, you would be too), and I told him I would go with him. I have always liked spending time with him at activities he’s passionate about because he shares his wealth of knowledge with me. I know a bit about cars, and now I’m learning about sound systems. I made plans for this weekend a year ago.

Axpona, Audio Expo North America, is a three day convention for audiophiles. Read that as middle-aged men with money to spend on stereo equipment. The price tags range from ouch to holy shit. There are $50,000 headphones; no they are not gold plated or diamond encrusted. The stereos, amps, DACCs, etc. can be exponentially more expensive. I love music. I love making music. I love listening to music. But… How could these men* part with tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of dollars on stereo equipment?  I would have to have a gazillion dollars to even contemplate buying the high end stuff. (I’m also very cheap and contemplate if the coffee I want will actually bring me $4 of joy.) There is huge variation in style, engineering, function, aesthetic, and so much more. It is incredibly science driven and very interesting. The more you listen, the more nuanced and differentiated it all becomes. At the same time, they’re all pretty high quality. Most people would be happy with anything there. Still…. why?  

We’re here for all three days. Half way through the second day, I started deep diving into what could make people spend that much money on a stereo. I have come up with two reasons. They have more money than they know what to do with. So instead of wiping their asses with $100 bills, they spend it on stereo systems. Fair. If I had a never ending supply of money, I would be going home with a specific system. A girl can dream. I don’t think many people fall into that category, though. Looking around Axpona, the population is predominantly middle-aged. I don’t say this disparagingly. They have more money than the young, and more time to enjoy the expensive stuff than the old.

 

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I love this weird picture. It’s very us.

My life has a soundtrack. At almost 28 years old, there are songs that immediately transport me. Fergie’s Big Girls Don’t Cry takes me to the summer I turned 16. Chopin’s 24 Preludes is a rollercoaster of 12 year old feelings at being frustrated and angry at my hands and mother for making me fail at piano and eventually the love I have for piano because I practiced so much I’m still not terrible to this day. Elton John’s Your Song will forever be the image of my parents dancing on their anniversary in the living room of our bungalow in the last millennium. Vivaldi’s Four Seasons is the pride I had at having my first duet en pointe. S&M by Rihanna is a sarcastic college song I share with one of my close friends. I fell in love to Lonely Island’s I Just Had Sex. I always smile thinking about the time my dad taught me an inappropriate song at five with one line “it’s wrinkly and it’s crinkly.” I made my abrasive grandpa proud at eight playing Bluebell Waltz during my first piano recital. My life has a soundtrack. The songs are not all winners, but they immediately take me to memories, people, emotions of years gone by.

Wandering around Axpona, the music was primarily of yesteryear. I heard very little current music, which was fine by me. Genres and songs of all kinds. There was a lot of music rooted in the youth and young adulthood of the attendees, who were in their 40s, 50s, and 60s predominantly. When certain songs came on, they would all start bopping along a little more enthusiastically than before. Not just because it’s a good song, but you could see in their eyes a recognition of something personal not just great chords.

People aren’t buying stereos. They’re buying time. Years go by so quickly, and life is always shorter than we think. Music is a time machine taking us back to the time we first heard that song, what we were going through, the people we were with, or any number of things. Music, like smell and taste, is intrinsically linked with memory. We, as a world, do everything we can to stave off aging and death trying to grasp at what we had before. It was always better than it is now, it seems. Music doesn’t change our age or health or the fact we will die someday. It does have a profound impact on our souls. People aren’t just buying stereos. They’re buying a high quality time machine conveniently sized to fit in their living room. Not only does it look nice, it is the gift giver of history. Music is intimate and personal. Can you really put a price on hearing the song on the radio the first time you got behind the wheel without your parents or your first kiss or watched you child walk or won a trophy? Youth has a lot of downfalls, but those emotions were so powerful. Being able to throw back in surround sound from your very own couch can be absolutely intoxicating.

Axpona is an incredible experience. I didn’t think of myself as an audiophile when I began the weekend. I still don’t know a percent of the science or information that goes into the equipment. I learned a bunch, and I can impressive my friends with my rudimentary knowledge that is now a gazillion times more in depth than theirs. I realized my deep love of music makes me a novice audiophile. I found speakers I can afford, and I will probably be the proud owner of. I have a new obsession with a particular sound system I can’t fathom to afford. More importantly, I spent time watching my dad geek out over his passion.

I added a few more songs to my personal soundtrack.

*I say men because it is truly almost completely men. I honestly don’t think I saw a single woman there that was not there because of her husband. Truly 98.5% of the people attending are men.