Tag: RaeAnna Rekemeyer

Books, Reading Lists

Pride Month May Be Over But Here’s An LGBTQ+ Reading List

RaeAnna

Pride was last month. Like all the other heritage months, those who belong exist the other eleven months of the year. I love Pride. I think it’s great. A month long opportunity to celebrate, learn, challenge, and spread love. For the LGBTQ+ community, Pride is every day, all day, forever. It’s an existence. 

A combination of not being able to and spreading the joy, this post is coming after Pride month has come to an end. If you didn’t dive into learning about LGBTQ+ issues or stories during Pride, there’s no better time than the present. Learning is a never ending pursuit. 

I belong to the LGBTQ+ community, but I have so much to learn as well. We all do. None of us can know all of the things. Although, that’s not going to stop me from trying. These are three of my favorite books I’ve read recently dealing with rainbow issues. If you don’t know much, these are a great place to start. They’re grounded in personal stories, so you can connect and empathize with the people that make up this beautiful community. 

Of course I posed in front of a church with this one. How could I not?

The Queer Bible edited by Jack Guinness
I loved this one so, so, so much. It’s jam packed with illustrations, stories, maps, and more. It’s told by and supports the LGBTQ+ community. A collection of essays by well known members of the queer community about their personal queer icons. From David Furnish to Tan France to Graham Norton to Mae Martin and so many more. They’re personal stories of discovery but also love letters to the people who inspired them. 
Memorable Quotes
“This book is dedicated to my queer ancestors who went before me, that I never knew existed, whose stories we’ll never know, I hope that I’m making you proud.” Jack Guinness—dedication

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I sat on a rainbow in a rainbow dress for Queer Love in Color.

Queer Love In Color by Jamal Jordan
The queer community has been marginalized for so long, but to be a person of color and queer is double the marginalization. So often the queer narrative has been told by the white community. The media has portrayed white queer stories. Where are the people of color? They exist. Jamal Jordan photographed people around the world and tells their love stories in this marvelous book. 
Memorable Quotes
“Their stories range widely, but one thing kept coming up: the feeling that, on some level, finding love felt impossible.”

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I will find color whenever and wherever I can.

The Queens’ English by Chloe O. Davis
Language fascinates me as a writer and a linguist. Words are fluid; they change with time, geography, community, and more. Words are a way of excluding and including people. The LGBTQ+ community has their own language, which evolved as much as a way to protect themselves as to include themselves. So much of queer language has seeped into the mainstream vernacular, but so much of queer language has not.
I am known for being decades if not centuries behind on slang. I’ve found mainstream language difficult to understand, and I have found queer language just as difficult because my head has been hidden in books for years. The Queens’ English is a cheeky and very thorough dictionary that opens queer terms to me and I’m sure countless others. This is a fabulous book that is simultaneously heartbreaking, inspiring, educational, and uproariously funny. One of the most important things to remember, Davis says, “Many of the terms are not appropriate for people not in the LGBTQIA+ community to use.”
Memorable Quotes
“The Queens’ English is merely a starting point for the important conversations around inclusivity, sexuality, gender expression and identity, gay slang that’s been co-opted by mainstream culture, and queer American terminology that’s been around for decades.”

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Happy reading, my dears. I hope you enjoy these books as much as I do. They’re inspiring and beautiful. They showcase the ever expanding range of humanity and our capacity to survive and love. Because love is love, and we all are exactly who we are. 

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

11..., Lifestyle

11… Habits I’m Trying to Re-Form This Summer

RaeAnna
A picture I took of Beau and I even before COVID and the puppy invasion… We were hiding from responsibilities then, and I we didn’t know what was coming yet.

Rescuing Tess, raising thirteen puppies, keeping four, dealing with rare doggy disorders, and surviving the pandemic did not ruin my life. BUT it did give me a really good reason to put off all my good habits. 

In my defense, I’ve been busy. 

The reality: I am no longer motivated to do all the good things I had been consistently doing in my life before becoming a pack mama. That’s right, I’m no longer a dog mom. I am a pack mama, which I can only equate to the feeling of being the very stressed Polar Express conductor as it mercilessly careens across the ice. If you haven’t seen the movie, the Polar Express does safely make it across the frozen lake… I think I see land. 

Back to my point. I had been working on developing really solid, unbreakable, healthy habits for myself in 2019 and 2020. Then Tess arrived. Then puppies arrived. Then COVID arrived. Then life stopped. Not stopped, slowed, drastically. Life changed very suddenly in very concrete ways. I stopped doing so many things I had worked really hard at doing on a regular if not daily basis. 

I had the goal of having a consistent routine before I turned 30. Hello, 30. You came exactly when you were supposed to, and yet I was completely unprepared. I wanted a routine of healthy and good habits before I turned 30 because it seemed like a good milestone. Creating a lifestyle is hard, but once it’s been done, maintaining it becomes a lot easier. I wanted to have a lifestyle I could maintain with relative ease by the time I hit 30. 

In a way, I did! Not the lifestyle I want, but an easy one to maintain. Wake up. Feed and let the dogs out. Work. Read. Eat. Enjoy exorbitant couch time with the dogs. See very few people. Sleep. These are easy things. A very manageable lifestyle, but not the one I want. 

I’m actively living my best life… aka not wearing any pants and barely managing to keep the dogs alive.

So this summer is about reforming the habits I lost in 2020 and maybe even forming some new ones!

  1. Exercise I don’t like exercise. Actually, I quite loathe it. But moving is so important. It helps just about everything. From sleep to mental acuity to aging to mood. Exercise is the key. I’m not looking to lose weight or really even change the way my body looks, I’m good with all that, but I put in the effort for my mind. My mind is the most important thing, the thing I love best about myself, the thing I want to maintain for the entirety of my life. Moving, exercise is the way to do just that. I am going to get back into doing yoga and pilates and barre and ballet. I slowed down because of the dogs, but I stopped when I got COVID. My lungs are starting to get back to a place where moving is an option again.
  2. Writing Book Critiques As a blogger with a big focus on books… I have done very little book critiquing even though I’ve been reading very regularly. I need to write like it’s my job… Oh wait, it is.
  3. Sticking to My Diet This isn’t a diet that I want to stick to. It’s a diet I need to stick to. I have a whole lot of pretty serious health issues. Staying on my diet can be hard and inconvenient and unfun, but it helps my body continue doing its job, which is staying alive. I fell out of being really strict about it because with everything going on it was just another thing on top of all the other things, and so I stopped being diligent. 
  4. Not Turning On the TV I used to be so good at waking up and not turning on the TV. Once I turn that sucker on, I have a hard time extricating myself from it. I started turning the TV on in the morning while the puppies played. I couldn’t leave them alone because they were very chewy. So TV was the easiest way to keep an eye on them without being distracted. So I’m going to start waking up and not turning the damn TV on.
  5. Maintaining A Sleep Schedule I lost my sleep schedule because of the puppies. I’ve always been bad about maintaining sleep patterns anyways; I do whatever my body wants. The problem: with my unfortunate health issues, sleep is essential. So I need to sleep regularly and enough even when my body and brain don’t feel like it, which is always.
  6. Reaching Out On Birthdays and Anniversaries I was pretty good at remembering birthdays and anniversaries for friends and family with cards. 2020 ruined that. I need to be better about it again.
  7. Getting Dressed I haven’t had many reasons to get dressed let alone get dressed up in 2020 or 2021… Or really since 2016 when I moved to Houston and became a full-time freelance writer. I love getting dressed up and wearing all the pretty clothes I’ve spent too many monies on. So I’m going to work on taking the few extra minutes to put effort into the way I look again. I do miss it. 
  8. Journaling This is not something I have ever done. As a writer, I’m a weirdo. I don’t like journaling. As a writer, I think it’s important. I’m also hoping it will help me process my anxieties, depression, life, and all those other things. 
  9. Going for Walks I used to go for walks with Beau and/or friends on a regular basis. I love walks because they get me out of the house and let me be in nature. I’ve always enjoyed walks. Plus this will help me leash train the puppies. Having a backyard has not beneficial to leash training. 
  10. Seeing Friends Again COVID really put a dent in my social life. I have missed so many friends because of social distancing and staying inside. I’m hoping as more and more people get the vaccine and restrictions are lifted, I can start seeing my people again. They’re wonderful and I miss them all.
  11. Working Regularly I used to be a bit of a workaholic. I worked a lot. Like a whole shitload. After the puppies were born and COVID affected a giant percentage of my clients, I have only been working the bare minimum. If I don’t have to do it. I don’t. This is not getting me ahead in any ways. Being a workaholic isn’t necessarily sustainable but neither is being a couch schlub. I need to find a balance between the two. 

I started slowly adding some of these habits into my life after the New Year to varying success. Starting small with the ones that are sustainable. I know I can’t make huge and sustainable lifestyle changes and immediately jump back to and improve upon what my life was before the puppies and COVID. That will only end up with nothing at all changing. I’m working on slowly adding the changes and habits in, guilt free. I’m giving myself grace to fail and sit in front of the TV for a day because change and habits don’t happen overnight. But I’m striving to do better, be consistent, show up, and work at getting into a new normal. Life will never be what it was with only one dog. That’s okay, I don’t want it to be, but I also can’t continue being a bare minimum human. 

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

In My Own Words, Lifestyle

In Seven Days, I Turn 30 Years Old

RaeAnna

This past year has been quite the year. So long!

I turned twenty-nine. 

I rescued a dog, who had thirteen puppies. 

I raised those puppies and that dog in the midst of a global pandemic while depending on the kindness of family and friends as we bought a house as we dealt with rare puppy disorders as we coped with Dylan losing his job as my work slowed down to a near halt as we criss-crossed the country. 

Me living my life.

For the first three months of the pandemic, I was stuck inside with fifteen dogs, of which thirteen were completely dependent upon their mama and me. I was run ragged to the point of complete exhaustion. My body was even starting to give out under the physical strain of toting around thirteen large puppies. 

As a constant struggler of anxiety, depression, PTSD, and in a perpetual nihilistic crisis, it was not an ideal time to be trapped inside with me, myself, and my multiple internal narratives of doom for company. 

Now, I work from home under normal circumstances, so I am very used to my own company. I used to joke about never leaving the house, but that’s not nearly true. I was always on the go. Having lunch with friends, traveling, going to dog parks, attending events, exploring fun Houston things, creating content, and so much more. My calendar and life were filled with talented people who inspire me. 

Everything changed. The puppies gave me a brief respite. They’ve helped alleviate the catastrophic train wreck that would have been my mental health with their pure existence in my life. But during the pandemic, I’ve felt like I’m watching my impending quarter-life crisis trundling right at me for all of the reasons: imagined and real. 

I turn thirty in one week. I am not one of those women who are scared of turning thirty. In fact, I quite embrace it. The vast majority of me is so ready to be out of my twenties. Those really sucked a big D. I’ve gone so far as to preemptively tell people I’m thirty for the last few months because why the fuck not. At the same time, thirty does come with its fair share of burdens.

As a woman, this is an age where culture, society, the media are persistently confronting me with an alarm clock ticking down the time left on my worth to and in this world. 

I feel like time is running out. I’m almost thirty. Society is a barrage that, as a woman, life ends at thirty. I know it doesn’t. So far all the women I know over thirty have not ceased to exist when their 10,957 day arrived. But, no matter how hard I’ve tried, I can’t help internalizing all the cues telling me life as I know it is over for me and, in a week, I’ll be shipped off to the glue factor with last month’s Kentucky Derby winner—who even remembers that horse anyways. I think if we took the part where I had to age in society out of the equation, I wouldn’t care at all. If I could hermit á la Michel de Montaigne circa 1571, I don’t think I would give a rats ass about aging and this post wouldn’t exist at all. Unfortunately, I must be of this world.

Me wearing the bikini and being all but thirty in this world because I can and will and won’t stop.

I would be 100% lying to you if I said, “I have not ended up covered in snot crying on the kitchen floor being held by my partner as the dogs try to figure out what’s wrong with their seemingly resilient mama because I’m getting older and the world will stop looking at me and stop caring because I have a gray hair (I haven’t found one yet; that’s not a lie) and the hints of forehead wrinkles so none of my big dreams will come true because they haven’t come to fruition yet and all this work has been for naught and fucking life is hard.” That would be a lie. It would be a lie if I said it didn’t happen at regular intervals over the last two years. I’m not scared of getting older, but I’m scared of how the world will treat me as I get older. The world hasn’t been kind to me for the first thirty years when I was apparently worth something, so how the hell is it going to be for the next seventy years? Society tells me: not great. 

Life is terrifying. There is so much to process, handle, solve, enjoy, escape, see, do, taste, smell, and avoid all the time; honestly, I love each and every one of those pieces of living life. But being an aging woman is just terrifying. I know it’s different for me than it was for my mother and grandmothers, but things haven’t changed so much that wrinkles and grays and numbers don’t matter in the world. They do. And I don’t really care for anyone to tell me otherwise because my entire life all I’ve ever been validated for is my looks and what that means for my place in the world. The marriage I could make, the doors that will open, the way life will be “easier” because I was tall, thin, fair. So for me and my life experience, the moment my boobs start to droop, my waistline starts to expand, my hair starts to thin, my skin starts to slacken, what will I be? Who will care? It doesn’t matter and has never mattered that I’m intelligent, well-spoken, a linguist, possess a wicked wit, kind, giving, accepting, an activist, a writer, a creative, a critic, a dog mom, a friend, and all the other things that actually make me me and interesting and complex. My existence has always and almost solely been validated and made worthy by the way I look. 

Who I am has always just been a positive addendum to the way I look. 

I have never liked close up portraits. My teeth are funny. My nose is weird. I’m hyper critical of everything. As I get older, I see the lines, the pores, the acne that had never been there, everything. But if I don’t take them now, I never will, and I’ll look back and say, “damnit, I should have.” And I don’t do regret.

So… I love getting older. I’m wiser, funnier, smarter, humbler, more experienced, a better listener, a better talker, a deeper thinker than I was at twenty. I think I’m cuter, but that’s probably because I know how to do my makeup better. I truly and completely love getting older. Life is so much better than it was twenty years ago, ten years ago, a year ago. I know myself more completely. I am happier at a week away from thirty than I was at a week away from twenty. 

But… I’m scared of getting older. I don’t know how the world will treat me. I know how the world has treated women. I know how I want the world to treat women. And goddamnit, I have the audacity to age like the women who’ve come before me.

Now… I can only do one thing. Wake up tomorrow and keep on living my life. I’m going to moisturize and exercise—sometimes, infrequently, it will become a habit—to fight off aging physically, emotionally, but most of all mentally. More than anything, I’m going to keep working on my dreams. I’m going to keep creating new dreams. I’m going to strive for happiness. I’m going to live my life fully and enthusiastically surrounded by weirdos who love life and me. I’m going to support women and be everyone’s cheerleader. I’m going to be kind and find beauty in my body as it changes with the days and years I have ahead of me. I’m going to write. I’m going to lift up women’s voices of all ages because the world needs to remember that we women continue to evolve not stagnate. I’m going to tell my stories because I have seventy more years of stories, and I’ve hardly started on telling the first thirty years. My life isn’t over. I’m not done living. I will age with audacity.

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

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Blog + Dog, In My Own Words, Lifestyle

On Anxiety: Getting Lost in the Woods

RaeAnna

If this isn’t your first time here, you’ve probably noticed I have anxiety. That would be because I talk about it A LOT. It’s a huge part of my life and dictates a good portion of how I live and my internal musings. Lately, anxiety has been dousing me with an extra helping or twelve, and it has really been affecting everything from sleep to productivity to mostly sleep.

Beau looking back at me… Neither of us knew where we were or where we were going.

I’ve never been a big sleeper. Part of that comes from my natural circadian rhythm: I just don’t need tons of sleep to feel peppy, focused, and productive. The other part is my eternal FOMO. I have had a fear of missing out since I was an infant, which is long before that term entered the patois. My parents will be the first to say that I would not sleep if there was even an inkling of something happening. I remember being about three years old, hopping out of bed during my nap to have a listen at the door because I wanted to know what was happening: Mom was watching a soap opera, but damnit I was not going to miss out on what was going on in Susan’s third husband’s love child’s second marriage (I just made that up, but I’m sure that’s come up at least thrice). The longer I sleep the more I miss out on: time to work, time to play, time to be awake and do nothing but at least I won’t miss anything while I’m awake doing nothing. 

As much as I don’t want to sleep, I do, in fact, need it. Anxiety keeps me up more than anything else. This isn’t new. I remember being eight and having a borderline anxiety attack (although I did not have the words for it then) about growing up and having to file taxes and also decide what my major in college would be. I ONLY HAD ELEVEN YEARS TO FIGURE IT OUT. Yeah, I was a weirdo then. Nothing has changed. As an adult, my anxieties are a bit more grounded in reality, but in eight year old me’s defense, those are real things to worry about… Just maybe not at eight years old.

Three weeks ago, I was in the midst of an anxiety spiral over some very real problems. Some of which have since been solved, yay! I couldn’t stop. It started on Sunday and reached its zenith Tuesday night. I hadn’t slept much, which was fine. I was nowhere near a psychotic episode, although anxiety said differently. Tuesday night, I did not sleep a wink. Not one bit. I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, stewing. I eventually did a bunch of reading, writing, working, and then in a desperate attempt to dumb my mind, hopped on TikTok. Beau was snuggled between my legs, content with the consistent inconsistency of her mother at nighttime. 

Beau’s got this. She led the way. The way to nowhere helpful.

By 5:30 am, I had sufficiently given sleep my every effort and failed. The only failure I have been able to accept with out personal devastation. With the energy of a sleep deprived human—it’s actually quite a lot; after years of sleep deprivation, I am one of the most energetic and positive exhausted people in the history of the world—I literally skipped into my closet, put on running clothes, dressed Beau in her running gear (aka harness), woke up Dylan, let the puppies out/fed them, and ran out the door. 

Exercise is one of my least favorite activities. I loathe it, but it is something I do with regularity because it is incredibly good for our bodies, brains, emotions, and overall health. COVID halted that, but I’m trying to slowly work myself back into life. 

Running is at the tippy top of exercise I hate, which is exactly the reason I turn to it when I’m dealing with inordinate amounts of stress and anxiety. It takes equal parts determination and pain to start and keep going, making it the perfect mental distraction. Beau has come to look forward to times of high anxiety because she gets lots of walkies. 

My neighborhood has tons of walking trails and parks. Beau isn’t the easiest dog in the world to walk. She wants to sniff all the things, chase any bird/leaf/squirrel, and zig zap like it’s an Olympic sport, but I like getting the alone time with my OG (Original Girl). She knows the drill, we head out the door straight for the walking track just down the road. We did one lap before a walk on the woodsy trail. 

I decided to confuse Beau and do something different: Head onto the dirt trails deeper into the woods. The Iowa girl in me loves exploring nature. Living in Houston, there is a stark lack of hills and woods, though we have amazing parks and walking trails. My neighborhood has some unexplored woods, and this was the day to dive in. 

Beau lead the way. She loves getting to zig zag without Mommy holding her back. Every fork in the path, Beau chose the direction. I was doing a good job tracking each turn… at first. For, maybe, the first two or three forks. A gazillion forks in… I was starting to think there was a potential of being lost. An hour and ten minutes into our walk-run, I decided it was time to turn around. As we made our way home, after several turns… I realized we were lost. For realsies lost. I knew where I was adjacent to my house, but getting there via trail or off trail was a completely different story. 

At one point, I found a nice little, green sign nailed to a tree at one of many, many forks, denoting the paths: Rabbitt Pun and Creekside. I let Beau choose Creekside because I truly had no idea which one to take… or if we’d even seen that on our adventure in. We followed the path choosing another fork. Next thing I knew, I was back at the intersection of Rabbitt Pun and Creekside. Frustrated, I took Rabbit Pun. Obviously Beau’s career as a Sherpa in Nepal is looking quite grim. After choosing another two forks, we were ONCE AGAIN facing Rabbitt Pun and Creekside. I looked at Beau, who looked at me, who looked at the sign. My future as a Sherpa in Nepal is just as grim. 

My anxiety had found a new and far more tangible outlet. We were officially lost in the woods. 

In a desperate attempt to navigate homeward, I pulled up Google maps. Not helpful. It gave me directions from the nearest road. From the nearest road, it was a two and a half mile walk… According to Google we were about a mile, as the crow flies, from that road. My blue dot showed me standing in the middle of green space. 

Luckily, there were beautiful scenes to see.

Off we went, once more on Rabbitt Pun. It felt like the right choice. About twenty minutes later, with no familiar physical indicator, we ran into a man and his two dogs. Beau was excited for company, and I was excited for directions. 

We managed to find our way out of the woods… Nowhere near where we entered them, but out we were. What was going to be an hour walk turned into a two hour and forty-five minute walk, nine mile walk. Not at all a fast pace, but there was a lot of confused twirling in the woods. 

Beau was thoroughly exhausted and over the moon with joy. I was tired and running late to work at Amanda’s shop, luckily, she didn’t care. My anxiety had found a realistic outlet. Between the utter lack of sleep and long walk, I was able to sleep later that night. 

Anxiety’s a bitch. I’ve found my ways of coping with it. 

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

Books, Fiction

Forging Friendships in The Rose Code by Kate Quinn

RaeAnna
Reading The Rose Code by Kate Quinn in my friend’s rose bush. | Dress | Watch |

Worth A Read Yes
Length 621
Quick Review Three young women from drastically different backgrounds converge on Bletchley Park in 1940 and meet the consequences head on in the days leading up to Princess Elizabeth’s wedding in 1947. 

Kate Quinn does an exceptional job at creating three complex and intriguing women in her heroines: Osla, Mab, and Beth. The Rose Code is lovely historical fiction featuring fictionalized versions of real people and composites of real people. Full of friendship, intrigue, loyalty, war, love, and searching for meaning, Quinn creates the captivating world of 1940’s Bletchley Park, England to dive into. 

When there is more than one protagonist, I find myself identifying with one over the others and dredging through the others’ narratives until it finally comes back round to the one I like best. Quinn focuses on three women from drastically different backgrounds with an amazing ability to make them all equally likeable, disagreeable, moving, and interesting. I enjoyed each one’s narrative, and found myself rooting for all of them to “win”. Osla is a smart debutante from high society. Mab is a tall working girl from London. Beth is a good Christian daughter. They all struggle with the role society has dictated for them in the midst of being a woman during war time. 

Women were an integral part of the war effort in every country and culture. From the U.S. to Britain to Algeria to Russia to Japan, women played key roles. These women were forced back into their boxes after the war without a thank you or much acknowledgement for their commitment, secrecy, and love of country. Quinn challenges the idea that men were the only ones to fight in the war and earn wounds. Women may not have fought on the front lines [depends on the country and how much you dig into history], but they were an integral part of the fight. Britain’s intelligence would have collapsed without women’s efforts; “Bletchley Park and it’s outstations had four women to every man…” The Rose Code does not just stop at the role they played at the time; Quinne discusses at length, throughout the entirety of the novel, the erasure of women from history and common knowledge. She tackles it head on particularly in the segment 

“Where were all those women now? How many men who had fought in the war now sat reading their morning newspapers without realizing the woman sitting across from them at the breakfast table had fought, too? Maybe the ladies of BP hadn’t faced bullets or bombs, but they’d fought—oh, yes, they’d fought. And now they were dismissed as housewives, schoolteachers, silly debs and they just bit their tongues and hid their wounds.”

Osla, Mab, and Beth may be the focus of the novel, but they represent the countless women in Britain, Europe, and around the world who put their lives on hold and at risk to fight for their countries in the only way they were allowed. Without reward, thanks, or even recognition, these women worked tirelessly. 

The Rose Code by Kate Quinn

Quinn attempts to tackle the inequality of history in a variety of ways. Though her historical novel is hefty, there’s not enough room to adequately deconstruct all the inequities women and people of color faced. Racial inequality and racism are put under scrutiny through the book club’s reading of Gone with the Wind and the Egyptian-Maltese-Arab character of Harry Zarb. A look into the dark space that is an asylum. Beth is committed. Rather than being mentally unstable, she has knowledge. Throughout history, when a woman was difficult, intelligent, or an heiress, they were locked away in asylums, drugged into a state of mental decay. Quinn also explores the way these imprisoned women were exploited sexually. I’m glad she doesn’t leave these issues out of the novel, but they could have been explored deeper and more meaningfully. 

I love Osla, Mab, and Beth. I see myself in each one of them for different reasons. Osla is judged solely on her appearance. Mab had to work hard for everything she has. I identified most completely with Beth: the good, Christian daughter, who stands up for herself against her domineering mother after being told she is dim the entirety of her life as her doormat of a father stood by. This bit lit me up inside: 

“I’m your father. I have the right—” 
“No, you don’t.” Beth looked him in the eye. “You didn’t stop her throwing me out. You never defended me. You never told me I was clever, even though I can do the Sunday crossword ten times faster than you. You never told me I was anything.”

It is the story of so many women and girls. It’s the story of my own adolescence told in a tiny nutshell. 

The Rose Code is Quinn’s way of critiquing modern society through the use of historical fiction. The world has come a long way since war time 1940s, but in so many ways, it hasn’t progressed all that much. We still hold the same work done by men on a pedestal while reducing women’s to nothing more than “fluff”, “If you were a man and you wrote funny pieces about daily life, they called it satire. If you were a woman and you wrote funny pieces about daily life, they called it fluff.” On the surface it may seem like a social critique of the past, but the society and standards Osla, Mab, and Beth live in are still far too au courant. 

Memorable Quotes
“It sounded very poetic: “What lies at the center of a rose?” but it wasn’t the poetry that entranced Beth, or the scent. It was the pattern.”
“The men shifted at the word brassiere, and Osla nearly rolled her eyes. Point out a security leak and they shrugged; mention a woman’s underclothes and everyone got in a wax.”
“How much she hated being a woman sometimes: forever underpaid and underestimated and betrayed by your own body.”

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

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Title: The Rose Code
Author: Kate Quinn
Publisher: WilliamMorrow
Copyright: 2021
ISBN: 9780062943477

Posing in front of the Arc de Triomphe at Paris Casino in Las Vegas.
11..., Experiences, Lifestyle, Travel

11… Ways I Passed the Time in Las Vegas

RaeAnna
A boat filled with flowers floating in the Bellagio's Conservatory.
A boat filled with flowers floating in the Bellagio’s Conservatory.

The last five days, I spent exploring Las Vegas. I’d been once before… in December 1999. A little more than 21 years ago, so I had never really done Vegas because I was nine eight years old. Some would argue I still haven’t done Vegas because I don’t drink or gamble and the shows are still closed for the most part. That being said, there are loads of things to do, and I managed to fill my five full days with fun nonetheless. I got in very early this morning and am very ready for a nap. 

This is not a travel guide by any means. It’s just a quick overview of some of the fun I’ve had over the last five days. If you’ve been following my stories on Instagram, you know there were lots of outfit changes, food, and activities. Lots of pictures to come, but I need to go through them all and edit… Did I mention I didn’t get home til early this morning, so it’s not happening today.

Posing in front of the Arc de Triomphe at Paris Casino in Las Vegas.
Posing like the French girl I want to be in front of the l’Arc de Triomphe in Las Vegas. | Red Polka Dot Dress | Yellow Sandals | Yellow Wool Beret |
  1. Change Hotels There are so many fun hotels and casinos. If you stay for more than a few days, I suggest switching hotels like I did. I was able to experience Las Vegas from different vantage points, locations, rooms, and amenities. I stayed at the Luxor, Hilton Grand Vacation at the Flamingo, and Waldorf Astoria. I’ll chat more about each of them later!
  2. Content Creation One of my favorite things about being a writer and blogger is the content creation. I love having an excuse to take beautiful pictures. I’ve always loved being behind and in front of the camera. It’s taken me a lot longer to get comfortable being in front of the camera in public spaces, but I’m getting there. It’s always worth it when I see the finished product. I think everyone deserves amazing pictures of themselves, and we need to normalize that. But I did a lot of solo content creation all over The Strip. 
  3. Eat Oh my goodness. I ate so much all over the place. I will definitely have a dedicated food post. Some exceeded expectations. Some did not. I didn’t have any bad food, though. I did return to Eataly… a lot. 
  4. Work The blessing and curse of being a freelance writer is: I still work on vacation. In the before times, I traveled so much that not working every time I was on a trip would have been unfeasible and completely unrealistic. This was my first trip since COVID, but I still ended up working every day. I like it because it keeps me grounded and makes me appreciate the fun even more! Plus I’m more motivated to get it done ASAP, rather than procrastinate. 
  5. The Conservatory at the Bellagio I happened upon the Conservatory in the Bellagio on the very first day I was there. It was absolutely stunning and beautiful and everything my flower dreams are made of, so I went back… pretty much every day. 
  6. Walking I walk a lot when I travel. I walked between 8.75 and 14.6 miles every single day. I love going, going, going to explore everything. I’m not good at down time when I’m traveling. I have a few blisters from a poor shoe decision on the last day—the photos made it totally worth it, however. 
  7. Pool + Reading I landed at 8:45 Wednesday morning, and I was already checked into my room at the Luxor. I headed straight to my room, put on my swimsuit, grabbed a book, and sat my butt by the pool. It was 9:45, and I was two chapters into a new book and soaking up the sun. #goals I did sit poolside with a book every single day I was there. (The Waldorf Astoria’s pool is by far my favorite.)
  8. People Watched Oh, Las Vegas. It might be one of the more interesting places to people watch, especially late at night. 
  9. Shopping, Shopping, Shopping I actually did not do a lot of shopping. I’m too poor for the stuff I really want to buy. I did buy a few souvenirs for friends. I don’t like to buy things plastered with the location on them for myself—the exception being mugs—so I buy things that I like and will remind me of the trip. This trip happened to be hats. I found my new favorite hat store and went a little crazy, but a responsible amount of nutty.
  10. Friend It Up I love traveling and being on my own because I meet the most incredible people. Sometimes there are some looney acquaintances made, but most of the time, I have really amazing conversations with total strangers. 
  11. See Friends Some of my closest friends just moved to Las Vegas. Maria of Millennial Fashionista grew up in Las Vegas. She, her husband, and baby just moved back. Due to COVID, I hadn’t been able to see or visit them in almost two years, which meant: I hadn’t met darling Clara!!! I was finally able to remedy that situation by spending Wednesday afternoon and evening with them. It’s never enough time when it comes to good friends, but anything is better than nothing, particularly when it’s meeting the most perfect baby in the whole world. 
The most perfect baby in the whole world!

I had a great time in Vegas. I was definitely ready to head home and cuddle my babies by Sunday evening. I will for sure miss the Waldorf and all its amenities. I guess I can live without a pool boy… If I must. 

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

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