life – Page 2 – Britt Skrabanek

A Haircut and A Hiatus

Yep, that is the tattooed forearm of my hairstylist showing off her latest hair trophy…my two long-ass ponytails. After painstakingly growing out my hair for the past five years, I decided it was time to chop it—to shed half a decade permanently and embrace the new.

It’s no wonder we gals get so attached to our hair. That hair’s been attached to us for years—through good times and bad, through boredom, through adventure, through love, and through sadness.

Of course, there is the obligatory idea that long hair on a woman is more beautiful, more youthful. We see celebrities wearing extensions to conceal their short hair from the public, we are told that only soccer moms and older women go short, and there’s a rumor that men prefer long hair.

Funny, but Mr. H likes short hair. Something about seeing my face better, which is quite sweet.

I had an interesting chat with one of our cool neighborhood bartenders a couple of days before the Great Ponytail Massacre. She was rocking a new pixie after a lifetime of Rapunzel hair. She felt liberated after letting it go and she looked it, like a weight had been lifted off her entire face and body.

As “pretty” as long hair can appear, I won’t miss the obscene shampoo budget or getting caught in car doors and automatic windows. The moment my ponytails were cut off, I didn’t get teary-eyed or feel regret.

I felt freaking awesome.

Now there is no mass of hair for me to hide behind. It’s just me.

Along with this newfound sense of freedom, I decided that it was time for me to take a hiatus. Last year I did a little experiment and took a two-month break from blogging and social media.

That’s right…cold turkey.

No weekly blogging. All email notifications of likes and comments were turned off. Commenters would receive responses after the hiatus.
No blog socializing. Though I kept up with my blogger buddies I am subscribed to through email, I refrained from my usual liking and commenting.
No social media. This included my Goodreads, Twitter, and Facebook accounts (personal and author). Email notifications were turned off and to avoid any slip-ups, all apps were removed from my smartphone.

It was my version of a going to a deserted island for a while. Though in reality I was still in Milwaukee, working in my cubicle, finishing my Yoga teacher training, and busting out my first draft of NOLA FRAN EVIE.

My intention for this experiment was to take some time away from the chatter to find focus, the kind that I was craving to achieve some personal milestones.

And, I did find it. Hell, I even nailed my first headstand after many months of hard work.

(If you want to read about my hiatus experiment last year, check out So You Want to Take a Media Vacay.)

This time my intention is quite different. Believe it or not, this go-getter doesn’t have any big life goals. The only thing I know is that I will hunt for inspiration through nature, books, and human experience.

I am searching for rejuvenation. Most of all, I simply want to be.

Rather than two months this year, I’ll be out for the month of September. I’ll still be keeping up with my favorite blogs, but I’ll be one of those lurkers who never makes their presence known. I’ll respond to any social media and blogging comments upon my return. Naturally I’ll miss you guys, but I know that you’ll all still be here when I get back.

If you miss me, you can always contact me the old-fashioned way…through email.

And, ahem—for those who still haven’t read my latest book NOLA FRAN EVIE, you know what to do. (Hint…buy it today on Amazon!)

I’ll be around until Sunday the 31st and would love to hear from you before I go dark. Thank you all for your gorgeous support.

Oh, here’s my hair…

Elegant Attitudes in Seattle

Marijuana and fried fish intermingled with the gentle breeze. Aggressive construction in the growing city was outmatched by rhythmic waves and the soft creaking of the delightful ferris wheel.

Gulls soared lazily above the pier, occasionally taking a dive to retrieve a salty snack. People decked out in their summer duds crowded around the white-aproned fish mongers launching fish across the stalls. The healing flavors of raw oysters and cold beer tasted like the best parts of earth.

We were somewhere else. Seattle.

Mr. H and I hadn’t gone out of town since we moved to Portland at the end of March. Truthfully, we hadn’t been on vacation in almost a year, since our awesome road trip to Montreal last September.

For me this year has been an eventful one with my mom’s breast cancer recovery, a cross-country move, a touch of unemployment, and my third book release. When I say that we needed this little getaway, good grief do I mean it!

An easy three-hour drive listening to the genius of Pearl Jam with the windows down made for a solid start to our weekend as we finally traveled together to a city we had always wanted to, our Mecca of grunge.

Mr. H and I were fortunate enough to spend our adolescent years during a renaissance of rock, a time when Seattle birthed grunge music. Though we grew up in completely different parts of the country, our love for music traveled parallel paths.

Naturally, Seattle was a no-brainer decision for a getaway.

As mentioned in the intro, we headed to Pike Place Market along with many other eager tourists. We ignored the frivolous, mile-long line at the original Starbucks in search of oysters and beer, which we happily discovered in a tucked away courtyard with a bird sanctuary.

Crowds aren’t our favorite but it was worth it to catch the waterfront vibe, a peaceful retreat from the rapid construction all around the city as it tries to keep up with the Pacific Northwest population boom.

We stayed in the artsy neighborhood of Fremont, which was way more our speed and reminiscent of our homey neighborhood in Portland. However, we waltzed into our AirBnB flat as planned to find the place still disheveled from the previous guests. We shrugged, unpacked, then sipped on exceptional local beers on the deck.

Our host rounded the corner with his dog and gawked at us. He thought we were scheduled to arrive the next day and spewed a series of apologies while pacing nervously. Being the easy-going couple that we are, we told him not to sweat it and our host tidied up as we continued relaxing outside.

When he bounced back out, he calmly said: “You have an elegant attitude. That spirit will take you far.”

That was perhaps the best compliment I’d ever heard and it made me smile.

The next day we ventured to Ballard Locks, another touristy spot, but an educational one that is very free and very fun. Here curious bystanders get to watch millions of dollars of boats get squeezed into a concrete alley, which then turns into a fascinating elevator.

A complex intersection between the salt water beyond and the fresh water of the canal, the lock waters are manipulated to allow the boats to travel back and forth. We watched this grouping of boats start at our level, then slowly drop down 26 feet.

See the shadowy characters on the bottom right of the pic below? That’s us and a bunch of other grinning tourists staring and taking pictures on the sidelines.

Being on display for the tourists while being in the hands of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers must be quite the sobering half-hour for these summertime boaters. I imagine they’re pretty damn happy when that bridge door opens and they are free to go.

After the locks we went in search of more oysters and decided to splurge at a restaurant that Bon Appetit included in their Top 20 Most Important Restaurants in America. We accidentally scored the best seats at the Walrus and the Carpenter, right at the oyster bar with the patio doors wide open behind us.

Between our sensational Moscow Mules, oysters, and small plates, we talked about nothing and everything. We reminisced about our late afternoon at Ballard Locks and discussed the incredible salmon ladder.

Besides the boats, the locks provide a critical passage for the salmon heading upstream. A fish ladder with 21 steps allows the salmon to climb to the freshwater side.

We lucked out with our August visit, the best time to catch King Salmon, and had the honor of watching these beefy, stoic fellows passing through in the underground viewing room. It was very awesome to witness these prehistoric-like creatures floating by us before they continued their long journey upstream, up a watery ladder of all things.

We stood there and marveled at the beautiful perseverance of the mighty salmon. To think, they go through all of that trouble to do one thing…spawn.

Books Were There to Protect Me

No matter how many times I got lost in life, books were there to protect me.

Through my childhood years when my parents abruptly parted ways. Through my overly dramatic teen years when the world seemed against me. Through my self-destructive young adult years when I was trying to find my way.

More than anything I associate books with my beautiful mom, who I will always imagine with her nose happily stuck in one—exuding warmth, comfort, and love.

When my lovely friend Letizia at Reading Interrupted asked me to share a special reading memory with her, I felt privileged to write at her beautiful blog. I follow it religiously and it never fails to inspire me.

Any bookish memory I reached for, there was my mom.

As most of you know, my mom has been on my mind a lot this year after battling her second stint with breast cancer. And when I was by her side to find out the test results, a magical memory helped me get through it all.

Read “A Castle Filled with Stories” over at Reading Interrupted…

Nola Fran Evie is Now Available

I’m gonna be candid right now. Writing my first two books was a damn struggle.

The first, Beneath the Satin Gloves, took me three years to finish. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing and I certainly didn’t believe in myself. With the support of my husband and my own stubborn determination, I powered through until the day my shaky finger clicked the publish button.

The second, Everything’s Not Bigger, only took me six months. This book was purely written as therapy. Deep soul-searching was done during this time and though it has been less popular, writing the story was the release I needed to enter a new chapter in my life.

So, I wrote a third…NOLA FRAN EVIE.

I didn’t struggle with this one. Discovering clues from 1954 in a vintage handbag provided succinct inspiration for a story that I knew I was fated to write.

I had a flow, an unstoppable rhythm that moved me.

And most of all during this third round of self-publishing, I had all of you out there. My second year of blogging has brought so many phenomenal humans into my life. The positive spirit of the writing community continues to astound me each day.

Without my husband, my family, my friends, my bloggers, and my readers…finishing another book would never have been possible. So, thank you.

Now I must call upon my beautiful community to help me with the final stages of this project. For today I am releasing NOLA FRAN EVIE into the world.

I have poured all of my energy into this story for the last year and a half of my life. As an indie author I have no team to do my historical research or market my book to the masses.

Yet I also know that I am not alone.

You are all a part of my team. I would be forever grateful for any support you can offer with this book release in the form of reading it, sharing it, and reviewing it.

Because this is a dream I will continue to cultivate. And hey, life is something to celebrate and we can always use one more story.

Without further ado, I am beyond proud to bring you…NOLA FRAN EVIE.

They were unladylike rebels, three young women abandoning rolling pins for baseball bats to join the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League. They changed history and that changed them. After the league folds in 1954 Nola, Fran, and Evie meet by chance on a popcorn-scented summer day where it all began…Wrigley Field, Chicago. They team up once again to fight for a pivotal cause these dames can only win by uniting as one.

Inside these ball players lies a fierce beauty, an unconventional destiny beyond the kitchen. Foregoing the American dream of sparkling cars and pastel suburbia, together they face up to the reality of nuclear drills and civil rights. Their story is uncovered nearly forty years later when Jacks Demonte discovers a trail of clues tucked away in a vintage handbag. The extraordinary lives of these women intersect with Demonte’s as she falls deeper into a heroic past.

BUY IT NOW AT AMAZON

Dirt in the Skirt for a Good Cause

With my upcoming book release next month for Nola Fran Evie, which is about three women in the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League, I thought this was a perfect current event to share with you guys.

I stumbled across an awesome news story courtesy of the AAGPBL Players Association’s Facebook page.

Yesterday the San Rafael Pacifics, an independent professional baseball team, wore replicas of the Rockford Peaches historic uniforms during a game to honor Breast Cancer survivors.

And, yes. They were men in darling pink dresses…

We’ve seen men in professional sports support Breast Cancer Awareness with different pink accessories—gloves, cleats, hats—but never before have they played like this!

They are the first men’s professional baseball team in history to wear dresses. Love it!

Two of the uniforms were autographed by Academy Award winner Tom Hanks, who starred in one of my all-time favorite movies and the reason I was obsessed with the women’s league from a young age, “A League of Their Own”. They were auctioned off with proceeds going to a breast cancer foundation in California called “To Celebrate Life”.

This was a very cool way to honor these women—the brave gals who played in the All-American Girls Professional League seventy years ago and the courageous women battling Breast Cancer today. I applaud these men for dressing up and getting some “dirt in the skirt”.

As many of you know, back in February I found out that my mom was battling her second stint with Breast Cancer. If you missed the posts, you can read about the experience here “This one’s for you, Mom” and here “We Surpass the Tough”.

My mom is doing beautifully.

She “got lucky” with Stage 1, but the emotional scars are just as challenging as the physical ones, and she’s still on a very challenging journey to healing. But, as I’ve said before, she’s a trooper and she’ll kick ass as she always does.

I don’t think we can ever raise enough awareness for Breast Cancer, so I was delighted to see a fresh take on a good cause with these ball players. I’m sure my mom will be tickled when she reads this as she recovers from one of her final surgeries this week.

If you want to check out the full story, there’s a good one right here on Yahoo Sports.

And just for fun, I wanted to leave you all with a few photos of the gals of the All-American Girls Baseball League wearing the original uniforms from 1948. I especially love the pic of the girls huddled around the magazine together.

(All images are courtesy of Florida Memory.)

Photo Credit: State Archives of Florida, Florida Memory

Credit this photo: State Archives of Florida, Florida Memory

You may have noticed I added a little countdown on the sidebar for the big book release. Twenty-four days to go…woot!!!