This is Certainly a First World Problem

So, we've decided to cough up the cash for a second VPN of my very own. Rob is a technology nut, so he loves to have access to "checking" all of his stuff (read: screwing around in a cycle of email, facebook, Detroit Tigers score, overandoverandover). And some of his screen time is legit, but mostly he likes to spend his down time mindlessly surfing and hogging our mode of bypassing the "Great Firewall," so I insisted that I get my own VPN to blog.

Oh, a VPN is a Virtual Private Network. It essentially skews signals to indicate that my computer's IP address is in America when, in fact, it is physically in China. Since I am physically in China. Normally, Chinese internet blocks websites such as YouTube, Facebook, Blogger, etc.

Being in a country that blocks most of the online goodies has been a little strange. Without the VPN turned on, I can read through my blog list on the Bloglovin' app, but not on the computer. Feedly flips me the bird either way. Pinterest works both online and through the app, so at least that's good entertainment. I can see and post Instagram photos, and can even send them straight to Facebook for our friends to see. But, I can't go to Facebook, can't post new content on Blogger, I can't click on almost any blog to comment, and, most importantly, I can't see Marion's content below the Read More line. Big fat bummer. 

Without competing with Rob for use of the VPN, I will be able to blog in peace, take my time uploading photos, writing and linking all at once in the Blogger editor (I've been writing word documents and copying them in. The formatting boogers itself every time, which is obnoxious). 

So, in short: I've been super absent, and I'm sorry. Before the move, I didn't have time or focus enough to blog, and now I don't have easy access to it. And, even though I've been reading a whoooooole bunch of  your blogs, I haven't been able to say hello, compliment all of the lovely looks you ladies have been featuring lately, cheer you guys on in your recent life-stuff, or sympathize with your head or heartaches. I hope this technological coup lets me say "Hey" a little more often.

Pants: Target...Tank: thrifted...Shoes: via DSW...Bag: Longchamp knockoff

Pranks and Skivvies

Pants: Zara...Tank: thrifted...Cardigan: Target...Shoes: BCBGeneration via Ross...Necklace: thrifted

Oh, look... I'm covered in dog hair.

Another little chuckle for your workweek (Yesterday's post was the first in a week of childhood stories):

My sisters and I started going to summer camp when we were teeny tiny. It was the same camp in the Hocking Hills of southern Ohio that my mom had attended as a kid. Mom would work the week-long camp and exchange her pay to bring us as campers. There's endless stories to tell about my summers here, but I'll focus on one of the most ridiculous.

Around age 14, my mom and another counselor led a 3 1/2 day canoeing trip that spanned around 60 miles of river. We had some petite campers, like me and Sissy S, some average sized kids who weren't fully aware of how much physical work it was going to take, and a smattering of 16 year old dudes who, relatively speaking, looked like Hercules compared to my dainty ballerina physique (strong legs and modest arm muscles did not make me candidate for most beneficial canoeing team member, despite my mad maneuvering skillz). Moral of the story, no one knew anyone and mom was well aware we'd need to all bond quuuuickly so we could plan on forcing a team-up of strong with not strong in case we started to lag and need to get to our planned campsite for the night on time. Here's how the bonding went down...

Mom: "Hey, Katie, you could totally prank the guys tonight."
Me: "They been hanging out in their cabin since the week started. I couldn't sneak in to steal something if I tried."
Mom: "Nah, I've asked the other counselor to take them on a firewood hike for tonight. Rally the girls."
(I am not a rally-er. But I was very good at pranks.)
So, we stole a pair of underpants from each guy's bag and I shimmied up to the roof of their cabin, which was set into a steep hillside with no clear way up and laid out a boxer brief smiley face. Grinning and ready to greet the guys as they got back.

We made excellent time with the canoe pairings and several friendships were formed for the rest of our summers as campers.

And my mother is absurd.