I'm pretty sure I hate Florida.

Last week, due to a series of circumstances that were unfortunate at best, my whole family went to Florida.  We made the trip so we could all attend my uncle's wake.  

It was a strange six days.  

The wake was the worst thing ever, but my uncle's ghost did manage to make me laugh by rigging the water fountain to squirt Joe in the face.  Anyway, we spent the week in my sort-of-cousin's wife's house which was really nice.  The house was nice.  Not the fact that we ALL spent the week there TOGETHER.  Trapped.  My grandmother, my mother, my father, my sister, my husband, and me.  It made me remember all of the reasons I moved out of my parent's house, and helped me realize a few new ones.  But that's a different story, and one I'd prefer to just leave behind me.  

The one great day of the trip was Thursday.  My mom thought it would be a good idea to go to Epcot to give my grandmother a distraction.  And since my uncle was all about going places and doing things, it's something he would have encouraged.  My grandmother was convinced that she would be a burden, and that since she had already been there, we should go without her.  This was not an option, so I suggested we go to the Kennedy Space Center, since none of us had ever been there before and we could all make the trip for the first time together.  Success!  The plan was a go, so we all hopped in the rented minivan (yes, minivan....don't you hate minivans, Al?  Why yes, yes I do.) and headed out for our adventure.

And a grand adventure we had, one that I will tell you all about in another post...with lots of shiny pictures, I promise.

Friday or Saturday we were supposed to go out on my sort-of-cousin's boat to spread part of my uncle's ashes at sea.  It was something I really would have liked to be a part of but, alas, the weather was not fair and prevented us from doing so.

During the trip, I met many people who I am sort of but not really related to.  I met friends and coworkers of my uncle.  I met a macaw named Iko.  I ate many chain restaurant lunches.  I saw much Spanish moss.  I spent more time in a minivan than I ever want to again.

And now I am back home.  And everything is back to relative normalcy. And I have a new appreciation for peace and quiet in my own house, and a better understanding of what is important to me.

It wasn't the trip to Florida to which I had looked forward since last Thanksgiving, but I guess that wasn't the trip that I was supposed to take.

My Favorite Uncle.

Me and my favorite uncle.  

Ok, ok, I only had one uncle.  But he was definitely my favorite relative.  He was so full of life and always so much fun to be around.  I haven't met anyone as easy-going as he was, or who liked to stir up as much good-natured trouble.  He always treated me like an adult and he never judged me for being who I was.  I always respected him for that.

I remember visiting him when I was little.  my family took a road trip from Connecticut to Florida in a Dodge Omni.  Four people.  Tiny car.  But it was worth it.  With Uncle Steve around, there was always fun to be had.

He let me drive his rider lawn mower when I was little.  I didn't really know how to work it, and couldn't quite steer properly.  I drove it right into a tree in his front yard.  I was expecting to get yelled at.  But, though he did kick me off while laughing at me, he did not yell.  It was an accident and I was a kid and all was forgiven.  That's just the kind of person he was.

My first ever go kart experience was with my dad, uncle, sister and cousins.  I had a headache that night (I had fallen off the bench at the dinner table when my cousin pushed it in too fast) and they all kept driving past me and laughing.  It was all in good fun.

Once, when my uncle's family was home for a visit, we all went to Playland in Rye, NY.  I Playland.  It's a fun place to be, and that trip was no exception.  My uncle Steve and I went on one of the roller coasters together, after having waited to be able to sit in the front seat.  He was hootin' and hollerin' the whole ride.  He was so animated!  It makes me laugh to this day to think about it.  We decided to go on the same roller coaster again, but this time was not as fun.  We were loaded into the seat, safety bar lowered across our laps as the ride started.  *click*click*click*click*click* as the chains pulled the coaster up the hill.  We inched closer and closer to the top, anxiously awaiting the adrenaline-filled drop over the crest.  But it never came.  The clicking stopped.  We were stuck.  This was not good, I thought.  I didn't really know what to do, and the safety bar pretty much offered only one option- staying put.  But my uncle stayed calm as a cucumber.  No big deal.  The ride would start.  Right?  And so we waited.  And waited.  Still no movement, still a calm uncle Steve.  People started calling down to what, in retrospect, must have been a poorly trained twenty-something working their summer job who could not figure out how to get the ride up and running again.  They (from the safety of the platform) assured us we would be fine, and made no attempt to free us from the obviously malfunctioning ride.  Another ride-goer eventually figured out how to release the safety bar in his own car and alerted the ride operators that he was getting out and helping the rest of us escape as well.  We all tromped down the skinny ramp next to the roller coaster cars and got safely back on land.  As we found the rest of the family in the amusement park, we all recounted the tale as though we had all shared some great adventure.  There was no crying.  There was no fear.  Uncle Steve's relaxed nature made sure of it.

I was always the troublemaker in my family.  I was always the one being scolded or put it the corner with no hope of of release for good behavior.  I remember once that I broke something of my mom's.  Being a fellow troublemaker, my uncle covered for me and took the blame.  He kept me out of trouble and it was our little secret.  He was a cool uncle.

Because of him I almost went into the Navy.  I had so much respect for him and his accomplishments.  I asked him once what he did for the Navy.  He told me he was a diver.  Simple.  No further explanation.  I asked his title.  Master Chief.  (Ok, now we were getting somewhere.)  Master Chief of what?  His reply?  "I can't tell you."  That was pretty badass.  I always wanted to know more, but it wasn't in the cards.  For all we know, he was an underwater ninja who saved the world while we all slept.  It wouldn't have surprised me.

He always said that it was easier to get forgiveness than permission.  I loved that.  He had a million phrases and smiles to go with them.

The picture at the beginning of this post was taken last Thanksgiving.  It was the last time I would see him.  We promised to visit him in Florida and go sailing with him, be somehow a year went by without that sailing trip.  I deeply regret letting distance prevent me from spending more time with him.  But he lived his life to the absolute fullest and I can honor him by trying to do the same.  I will take the trip I think I cannot afford.  I will take advantage of every opportunity made available to me.  And I will make the best of the worst situations.

It's what he would have done.

In Memory of Stephen Pacelli

April 27, 1956 ~ October 14, 2008

Hey Sarah Palin

I never would have made it as a moth.

Kill Kill Kill

These were the words on a piece of paper found on the desk of a man in my department at work. 

I am apparently not the only one who isn't a fan of my employer.

The guy had also been telling people that he was an ex-marine (which is weird because I thought Marine's used the term "former" not "ex", but whatever) and knows how to use bazookas and all sorts of assault weaponry.  He would also frequently tell people that he had been going to the shooting range and his aim was getting much better.  Also, that people had better not step on his toes because he will step right back.

This same guy made habit out of complaining non-stop about the company.  I have heard the when in the locker room on break he would sit on the bench with his hands folded and his head down, staring at his own lap.

Hm.

I learned these things, secondhand, almost all at the same time on a Thursday, and as a whole the picture gave me pause.  By Friday I was inquiring if what I had been hearing was true, and if anyone had brought this information to the appropriate authorities.

Some of you know the story up to here.

What you may not know is that on the following Tuesday (my first day back to work after the weekend) I went to my supervisor to tell him what I had been hearing and tell him my concerns.

My boss's reply?  "That person is no longer employed by this company."

I had no idea I had so much power!

Not really.  Apparently several people had shared similar concerns and immediate action was taken to release that employee.

As it turns out, according to my boss, the company had a similar problem 10 years ago when an employee came to work and told people, in earnest, that he was going to "go postal".  By the end of the day, that guy had been dragged off by the crazy police and brought to the psych ward at the hospital.  

I swear, I think this company drives people to insanity.

Slowly but surely.

I spent most of this weekend working on a new website for my store.  It's getting there, but not as quickly as I'd like.  You can check it out now if you'd like, but it's not live...

Allie Perry Designs

Go there.  Click on things.

Let me know what you think.

There isn't a lot of inventory up right now, because I am waiting to receive a shipment of photographic equipment that will allow me to shoot my jewelry with drastically better results. But for now you can at least check out the layout.