Friday, August 22, 2014

Our VRBO vacation

My spouse Susan and I just returned from a nine day vacation to the beautiful Pacific Northwest. We spent a few days in Vancouver BC, a couple on Whidbey Island in Puget Sound, and a few in Seattle WA. For the first time, we used Vacation Rental By Owner (VRBO) to book where we would stay. VRBO is an alternative to hotels - you can find places that are in people's homes, duplexes, apartments and more for short term rental.

Experiencing VRBO-style lodging was an adventure within our adventure and I'd like to offer up a review of our experiences to help other VRBO explorers with their choices.

We were on a budget and were trying to stay as close to $130/night or less if possible (actually we first tried for $100 or less, but the pickings were pretty slim), so we were looking for studio or one-bedroom sized places. We had amazingly good success in two out three of our choices (check the links for each place to see the listing, including photos):

Stay one: Strathcozy, Vancouver 

Good friends recommended this spot and I can see why. This fabulous unit is half of a duplex owned by two wonderful gay men who lovingly updated the rental unit. Every single detail was considered and executed in their remodel. Highest quality appliances, and it included laundry and a jacuzzi style tub/shower! Cozy and comfy through out. Spotless. Nice touches like coffee and a basket of snack food in the kitchen. Sweet little balcony off the dining room. A full bedroom with a very comfortable bed and quality linens. And they were totally great guys. 

When our hosts realized Susan was significantly mobility impaired from a knee and ankle sprain, they bent over backwards to make sure we had what we needed and even helped haul our luggage upstairs. They were generous and gracious. We enjoyed brief chats when we encountered them in our comings and goings and they offered great tips on where to go, what to do. Had we stayed longer, I think a happy hour with them would have happened. 

The place is located in the Strathcona neighborhood, an easy shot to all the Vancouver spots we wanted to visit. 

Lesson one: Recommendations are the bomb and we loved renting from fellow queers! (They gladly also rent to straight travelers.) Rent this place if you are ever staying in Vancouver.







Stay two: Langely Studio Apartment, Whidbey Island

This was our biggest disappointment. The rental is a backyard studio (perhaps a converted garage?) in Langely, on the southern part of the island. No view of the water, but a short walk into town and the views. Places were relatively more expensive to rent on any of the Puget Sound Islands since we were looking during high tourist season, so we did our costing cutting here, choosing this spot over one that would have cost $20 more a night but would have had a view of Useless Bay.

What were we thinking?! (We were probably still shooting for under $100 when we booked this one.) People, when you are on a budget, also remember you are on a vacation and you may never pass through where you are again in your life! It was cool and rainy while we were there and for the cost of a nice meal out we could have been reading and looking out of a window onto gorgeous Puget Sound. But instead we had a view of a backyard.

The unit itself was worn and clearly pulled together on a budget with aging furniture and 80s era appliances. And no special touches at all - there weren't even ice cube trays in the freezer! It was akin to visiting your aunt, who hasn't updated her place for 40 years and worse, has lost interest in cleaning. I wouldn't have minded the worn so much if it had been clean. There was dog hair all over the bedspreads and even on the window curtain in the sleeping area! The bar of soap in the bathroom was very used (sliver-sized). The lock to the sliding door was worthless. Luckily crime is low on Whidbey Island because a crafty seven-year-old could have broken in. There is more, but I'll quit - you get the idea. And we never saw the owners, not even a hello (they left it unlocked for us and we had paid in full already). We were on our own in someone's dingy backyard digs, in the rain. Luckily, we were only there for two nights and one full day.

Lesson two: Don't be so cheap! Get the room with a view! And beware of fixed up units in people's basements and backyards. Make sure they are what you want because there are some hot messes out there! The photos for a listing can be deceiving so look closely and think about what you are seeing. A place like this would be better for a family with kids and pets because no worries about wrecking a fancy or fussy place.


The only photo I took. Susan in the cramped bed, window looking out to the rain and side yard view. 
I wish I had taken a closeup of the dog hair decorating the curtain.

Stay three: St. John's Apartments, Seattle

For the last leg of our trip we stayed in an awesome storefront apartment building that had recently converted some of their units to short-term rentals. We were in the oh-so-hip Capitol Hill neighborhood (which is also the gayborhood) and loved being in an area full of interesting people (of the young, inked, pierced, hipster variety with a Seattle grunge twist) and easy walks to many cool, affordable restaurants, bars, and coffee shops. There was a great Thai restaurant just below us and we were right next to a grocery store. We even walked across the street one evening to a funky bar to watch the Seahawks game.

The unit was clean, nicely updated and cozy. Amenities included coffee and basic stuff like sugar and spices. The manager was a nice, friendly young woman who was very accessible and helped me lug our suitcases up to the unit and offered suggestions of where to eat that were close by (Susan was still limping her way through our vacation). We loved walking down the stairs and right onto a busy, happening street (well onto the sidewalk). And parking came with the rental, which was great as parking was expensive and a challenge to find. The location is an easy shot to anywhere you want to go in Seattle, by car or public transportation.

Lesson three: Professionally managed short-term-stay apartments are a great option for city stays. If we had gone with the basement unit in someone's home that was choice number two for us, we would have missed all the fun and maybe encountered more dog hair. We paid $20 more a night to stay here and it was more than well worth it (I'm still scratching my head about our cheap-ass choice on Whidbey Island). 






Conclusion: We loved the variety and interesting options we found using VRBO. While it was expensive, it was comparable to if not cheaper than hotels, and included kitchens! And best of all, they were mini homes, which was so nice for times we just wanted to stay in and chill (except for you know which one). We are leaving hotels behind on future trips and will continue the VRBO way! I'm glad each spot was different, giving us a good sample of what's out there. Next trip we'll be more savvy. But for our first try, two out of three ain't bad! 

If you aren't lucky enough to have friends who you can stay with in the places you are visiting, VRBO is a spendy but great alternative. If you are traveling with another couple or a few friends, you could rent two bedroom places that would cost less for each person overall and not be stuck doubled up in a hotel room - now that's a deal to consider!

Happy travels!


Saturday, May 3, 2014

Remember the day we elected a Black man president?

Where were you on election night, 2008? Seems so long ago, doesn't it - the night we first elected Barack Obama President of the United States of America.

He's been our president for almost six years now - one and half terms. My world of progressive, liberal, solidly democratic friends has differing views on his presidency. Some are disillusioned - he didn't live up to their hope for great, radical change. Some feel he's done the best he can in a landscape of partisan gridlock and tea-party-fueled racial hatred, and that he has accomplished a lot. I'm in that camp, for the record, but both points of view are valid. 

Yet in 2014, wherever your politics fall, in so many ways he is President Obama first, and President-Obama-the-first-Black-president second - or at least that fact is less sharply in view. We are used to him. We have watched his daughters grow up and we have watched Michelle Obama be awesome as she makes her way as First Lady with such panache (which is probably such an act of buttoning up her full self that we under appreciate what she is actually pulling off).

But let's go back. Let's remember our own personal Nov 4, 2008 and what that moment in time felt like as we gathered to watch in wonder and disbelief as - in our lifetimes, our children's lifetimes, our parents' lifetimes, and for some our grandparents' lifetimes - we elected an African American man president of these racist United States.

I'm awash with those feelings right now. I am three quarters of the way through Americanah, (click on the link if you don't know about this amazing piece of literature by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie) and just finished her recounting of electing Obama president, and so my memories have flooded back and I'm am sharing them now, free flow unedited blog style, before they recede and fade back to gray.

A small group gathered at my house, some of my circle of black, brown, and white lesbian friends, my spouse, my adult daughter, my young granddaughter, a friend's adult child, and another friend's small child. We watched history unfold, together. We were abuzz with excitement and anticipation as the results rolled in. We held our breaths and waited, and maybe prayed. And then all joyous hell broke loose and soon we watched with utter amazement and unabashed jubilance as this beautiful, brilliant man and his beautiful family emerged from the darkness of election night out into the lighted stage of Grant Park in Chicago to speak to the world as President-Elect Barack Obama. It was a moment where everything seemed possible because we had just achieved the impossible.

My granddaughter is now nine and her only conscious memory of a U.S. president is of Barack Obama, and of the First Family at the White House being a Black family. This may not occur again in her lifetime, but think about this - the foundation of her thinking about power and leadership and what is normal and expected includes this reality - that the guy in charge and his family look like her family, even down to the intricacies of interracial extended families. For me, this is something at least as powerful as whatever President Obama accomplishes or doesn't in his two terms - that utterly profound shift in point of view about what is possible AND what is normal.

So while we go about our daily lives in 2014 (it's time for me to go grocery shopping), whether you are disappointed with President Obama for the drones, or pipelines, or not doing enough for Black people and poor people; or if you love him almost without exception for who he is, what he is trying to accomplish and has accomplished, and because he achieved this "first" and changed the world forever - take a step back into your memory and your heart and remember the night of Nov. 4, 2008 and how it felt to see the world crack open and possibility explode ten thousand fold.

Here are a couple of snapshots and a video that are a part of my experience. I hope this post and these images inspire you to look back, too. Thank you, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, for pages 437-449 of your book, and the sharpness with which you painted that night and helped me to float for just a while in my own memories of that remarkable moment in time. 




Grandbaby, age 3


 My daughter and me


Yes we can!!

Moments before the election was called... 

And a few TV shots of what followed. (There are no photos of our victory hugs and screams because we were all living it, not recording it).




Monday, April 7, 2014

Playlist: Spring Freedom and Aries Fire!


I'm a wannabe DJ and over the years I've made hundreds of mixtapes and playlists. Here's one for the arrival of spring (finally!) and the ignition of (my) Aries fire. Let's dance and make love with life together!

Spring Freedom and Aries Fire!


1. Happy, Pharrell Williams

2. P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing), Michael Jackson

3. The Way You Make Me Feel, Michael Jackson

4. Ms. Jackson, OutKast

5. So Fresh, So Clean, OutKast

6. Sexy M.F., Prince

7. Money Don't Matter 2 Night. Prince

8. Diamonds And Pearls, Prince

9. Now That We Found Love, Heavy D & The Boyz

10. Family Affair, Sly & The Family Stone

11. Somebody Else's Guy, Jocelyn Brown

12. Best of My Love, The Emotions

13. Green Garden, Laura Mvula

14. Q.U.E.E.N., Janelle Monáe (feat. Erykah Badu)

15. Shame, Jill Scott (feat. Eve and The A Group)

16. People Everyday, Arrested Development

17. Gettin' Jiggy Wit It, Will Smith

18. Switch, Will Smith

19. Let's Stay Together, Al Green

20. I'm Still In Love With You, Al Green



By DJ Dancing Diva, April 2014



Bonus Aries Horoscope (by Rob Breszny):

ARIES (March 21-April 19): Freedom is the most important kind of joy you
can seek right now. It's also the most important subject to study and
think about, as well as the most important skill to hone. I advise you to
make sure that freedom is flowing through your brain and welling up in
your heart and spiraling through your loins. Write synonyms for "freedom"
on your arm with a felt-tip pen: liberation, emancipation, independence,
leeway, spaciousness, carte blanche, self-determination, dispensation.
Here's one more tip: Connect yourself with people who love and cultivate
the same type of freedom you do. 

Other playlists posted to this blog:

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Missing my mother

April includes three dates in my family - my son's birthday, my birthday, and the day my mother died. 

This year marks the tenth anniversary of her passing, and as "the date" approaches, I'm living in a whole new kind of sorrow. My mom died as a result of pancreatic cancer, one of the more horrible cancers because by the time you learn you have it, it's advanced and the march to death is painful, unrelenting, and swift - even with aggressive treatment and an iron will to live, both of which my mother had. She was only 70, just 12 years older than I'll be in a couple weeks, to put that into perspective.

In the beginning I traveled through the raw grief that comes with the death of a parent. After a few years, I moved to mostly acceptance, my grief a constant little whisper in the background of my busy life. Sometimes things would trigger a louder grief and tears - always unexpectedly. Something would remind me of her, or wishing she was part of a milestone or an everyday event. But mostly it was just the whisper.

Then, beginning a year or so ago, something shifted and I started missing my mother in a whole new kind of way. So much time gone by and so much life where she wasn't. I longed to talk to her, to ask her things about my own aging process, for example. "Did you experience this, too?"

This new grief is for the relationship we could have had over these last ten years - one that could have been closer, richer than what we had before, because of my own inner growth and evolution.

I had a great childhood - two parents who loved and cared for me, who had the resources and desire to support their kids' pursuits and dreams, who insisted we do well in school and go to college, and that we make the most of our talents to make a difference in the world. Yet, between the lines of this happy childhood was an emotional distance that hurt my heart and that I used to blame on them.

Our unspoken family motto was, "Everything's great!" It still is. So as a kid, for example, when I would run to my mom with hurt feelings, she would tell me, "Oh honey, it's okay, don't get upset, you're just fine." But I wasn't fine. What I longed to hear was affirmation of my hurt. "That must have been so hurtful. Let me give you a hug." But it was not our way and over the years, beginning in adolescence, I stepped away from emotional intimacy and kept my parents at a loving arm's length. 

Did my mom know how sad, ashamed and hurt I was that no one invited me to the prom, or even wanted to be my boyfriend in high school? That in some ways I was a victim of being bullied? Maybe, but I'll never know. Even if we weren't in a place to go there when I was 17, surely I could talk to her about it now.

I never told her I about the abortion I had at 20 while in college (though she was a strong proponent of a woman's right to choose), or even that I was having sex at all. I never shared the interior of my adult struggles. Not when I was going through my divorce, coming out, single parenting, or my children making terrible choices with terrible consequences. Or the heartbreak in my early lesbian relationships. My parents knew the facts, but not the feelings.

I didn't figure out until it was too late, until after my mom had died, that I was as responsible for our emotional distance as my parents were - that I was the one who closed down and stopped trying.

It's just been in the last decade, thanks to my journey with my spouse Susan, that I've learned, really learned, that to make an intimate relationship successful you have to accept people as they are, meet them where they are at, and bring your unwavering authentic self to them. I've known those sorts of ideas forever, of course (lots of therapy and self-help books, and Oprah), but only in my relationship and marriage with Susan have I experienced what those ideas mean and the powerful transformation that acting upon them can bring.

I totally get that my mom and I would have never achieved some fantasy daily-talk-on-the-phone-go-shopping-the-first-person-I-called-when-trouble-hit mother/daughter relationship, but if I had evolved more quickly we could have had so much more than we did.

I could have brought more of my whole self to her, and then flowed with her into whatever relationship would have grown from there. I've had the opportunity to do just that with my dad and it's been lovely, and healing.

As April rolls in, my sorrow and grief are loud and present. It's the missed chance to bring a better me to my wonderful mom.

If only we had had a little more time.