Day 13...In Your Bag

Uh...which one?

Hate to perpetuate a stereotype but I have a lot of bags right now. I got to my grandparents house last night so all of my things are stilled packed in my four bags. Read: I've got a lot in my bag.
The green backpack at the forefront has violin books, journals, all my chargers, and letter writing materials. The two pink bags are filled with make up and toiletries. The big blue bag is all clothes. Not extremely exciting, sorry.

Day 12...Close Up

Normal everyday pink

My first thought with this picture is how ridiculously awkward my hair must've looked that day. It's all frizzy and unfortunate.
However, my hair is not the point. The point is the birthmark that runs across my right cheek. I often wonder if it is the first thing that new people notice about me. There are a few ways to categorize what exactly is on my face: a port wine stain and a hemangioma are two of the most common. The basics of the science is that more blood/nutrients come to the right side of my face, causing pigmentation and, if you look really closely, a bit of swelling. It has a lot to do with the blood capillaries though I couldn't explain much more beyond that. I didn't like paying attention to the doctors when I was a kid and haven't yet caught up on all the information since I've started being in charge of taking care of it myself.

Post-surgery purple

When I was 18 months old, I had my first laser surgery. It makes my face look more purple-y. The point of the laser surgeries is to keep the blood capillaries under control in order to make sure that the port-wine stain doesn't grow in an unhealthy manner. The original thought was that about ten surgeries would do the trick and fade the birthmark away completely. Over the years, a lot of people have asked why I make it purple if the goal is to make my birthmark fade; the purple is actually a bruising reaction that my face has to the laser. To clear up a misconception that my siblings had about the term "laser treatment", the machine that is used is called a pulse dye laser and it emits a high energy laser light, which goes through my skin and causes reactions under the surface. It feels like getting snapped in the face with a rubber band; super pleasant. The instrument that delivers the shocks to my face is held right above my cheek and "shoots" me in little bursts. If you wanted to know how many times, all you'd have to do is count all of the purple dots.
When I was little, it was almost exclusively my parents that went to my treatments with me, though my grandparents would sometimes take my treatments as an excuse to come see me (the hospital I went to as a child was in between my house and my grandparents'). When I was really little, I was in a pediatric wing, was administered general anesthetic and got spoiled by the amazing staff. The only reason I had so many stuffed animals as a kid was because I got a new one almost every month. The hospital had a sort of exchange table--take one, leave one--and my treatments happened almost every month. Once I got a little older and the insurance people started doing things differently, I went to a different hospital and only did local anesthetic. (For anyone who isn't familiar with surgeries, general anesthetic puts you to sleep, local numbs the area that will be treated.) My parents still spoiled me, though; I got some sort of ice cream treat after each treatment.

The office in Italy
The orange thing to my left is the pulse dye laser machine

Once we moved to Italy, it was local anesthetic in a doctor's office during the school year but I would go back to the same hospital I went to as a little kid when I was back in the states in the summers. They still spoiled me even though I probably shouldn't have been 15 - 18 and in the pediatric wing.
I've only had a few treatments since starting college. It was really had to find a doctor for a while and, since I found one, it's hard to get to her office hours. She doesn't work in the same town I go to school in so that's unfortunate. Though it was a learning experience for two of my siblings. The first time that I went to get a treatment post 18 and sans parents, my brother took me. It was his first time ever being a part of the process. My sister then came with us the next time I went and was just as surprised about the whole process as my brother had been. None of my siblings had come with me when I was little since they had other things to be doing that were more interesting that driving to the hospital with their baby sister. And, apparently, the term "laser treatment" creates some confusion. They were both expecting something much different than what happened. I think that my favorite comment came from my brother. After he saw how the treatments worked (the pulse dye laser hitting me in the face with bursts of light energy), he said something to the effect of "No wonder you could get a tattoo like a champ." It is true that the processes are sort of similar. They hurt and you have to hold still. I've gotten very good at controlled breathing over the years. As an almost twenty year old, am I allowed to use the phrase "over the years"? We'll say yes.
The thing that honestly surprises me the most about my birthmark is that I've never been self conscious about it. In my experience, people often find what's different about them and worry about if society will accept them with it. Never once did I care or think I wouldn't be accepted. I remember once in grade school when we were still drawing self portraits, I brought one home and my dad asked what the pink bit on my face was. I told him it was my birthmark and it hit him that I really and truly accept my birthmark as part of my being. It is as much Robyn as my crazy curly hair is me. I'm convinced that it was the combination of those things that allowed so many people from my childhood to recognize me when I ran into them on campus this year.

Monochrome face. Weird.

There is a chance that, someday, the birthmark will fade and my face will be the same color all the time. Honestly, I can't imagine my face ever not being two distinct colors. Also, it would take so many months of religiously treating my face. It'd be so much work, oh mi oh my. And, truly, I'm okay with being a little different. My personality is so why shouldn't I have a face to match?

Day 11...Where You Sleep

Whoops! I'd say that I forgot to do this yesterday but it has more to do with the fact that I got up before 8 and didn't stop going until around 7. And didn't have internet after that. :/

It looks more like my odd belongings and some "Dr. Who"
than my old bed but, ta-da, bed.

Where I sleep? This is another sort of odd one to be doing this week because I just moved out of the dorms so the place that I've been sleeping for a long time is no longer "mine" in any way. Dorm beds aren't super exciting when you think about it. Lots of other people have slept on them and more people after you will sleep on them. I guess it never really was mine in any capacity--no more so than a hotel bed is yours ever.
I'm so looking forward to the bed that I will be sleeping in come August. I'm moving into my first non-parents-related apartment and my brother is giving my his bed. (He's going on this huge adventure and doesn't need furniture to tie him down). It ranks very high on my "most comfortable surface ever" list so that'll be very nice for me. It's also a queen and I plan to spread out as much as possible when settling down to sleeping.
Until August, I'll effectively be bed surfing. Last night, I was at my sister's. Tonight, I'll be at my Grandma's. In a few weeks, I'll be in a hotel then back to Grandma's. A few weeks after that, I'll be at an old friend's house. Perhaps a camping trip then a beach house. You get the point: I'll be sleeping in lots of places. Maybe that's why I don't often have trouble sleeping in new places. I do it much too often. Since I was 11, I've been traveling a lot so being able to get quality amounts of sleep regardless of the arrangements has been a necessity.
I sleep lots of places. I might even catch a nap on the train that I'm riding right now. Who knows?

Day 10...Childhood

In some ways, it feels as though I had two childhoods: my "Washington" one and my "Sicily" one. When you move halfway across the world at 11 years old, it sort of chops your life into halves.

Washington State

My Washington childhood was quiet overall. Quiet and, in certain ways, small. I was living in (I think it's called...) a ranch house with my two parents, three siblings and many mixtures of pets. We had cats, a dog, and I think there was a bunny at some point. I shared a room with my sister from as long as I can remember until we moved to Italy. I didn't fight my siblings for the computer, opting to make friends with the neighborhood kids and spend as much time as I could outside. I do think that I must've annoyed my siblings as I was always crashing their parties and trying to befriend their friends. Cute little sisters are quiet the distraction ;). School and church were pretty big parts of my life when I was little in Washington. Those and crafts. That habit has definitely stayed a habit.

Sicily, the ball that Italy is kicking.
Bread basket of the Med

Sicily was pretty much the opposite. My brothers had both graduated high school and were off at college so my sister and I each got our own rooms in the apartment my family moved into. My mom made sure that we traveled as much as possible while we were in Europe--so much cheaper to travel within Europe than it is to get to Europe from the states. School was getting harder (though I tried as hard as ever) and I had to adjust to living in a different country. I spent more time bonding with kids at school that trying to be in my siblings' good graces. I met some amazing people and got really into writing. My family spent all but one summer flying back to the states to see family and friends, which hindered my getting a job during high school. Though maybe high school doesn't super count as "childhood". Sicily was a huge adventure, and I still find myself missing it.
My childhood was a lot of things but the things I remember most about the 18 years of my life that I spent under my parent's roof is that my family always loved and encouraged me (even when I was being a S-P-O-I-L-E-D brat). Home was always a safe and good place to be. Creativity and the ability to entertain/sustain myself were qualities that got cultivated in me. I'm so glad to report that I have quite the happy childhood; it's just weird because I had it in different hemispheres.

Day 9...Your Daily Routine

This is an exceptionally odd time to be writing about my daily routine. Finals week does not hold to my daily routine at all; it's just the crazy of trying to get everything done all at once.
Actually, honestly, spring quarter didn't have much of a "daily routine" for long. Taking three online classes lends itself to a lot of "I'll do it when I feel like". I've had a lot of unstructured time these past few months. The only times that I had to be a certain somewhere were class on Monday/Wednesday/Friday morning, volunteering on Thursday morning, work on Monday/Tuesday/Thursday afternoon, driver's ed Monday/Wednesday evenings, and dancing on Wednesday night. The rest of my time was mine (so long as I got my homework done).
I guess a pretty typical day (we'll go with a Wednesday for structure's sake) was getting up between 7 and 9 depending on whether I needed to do homework before class, go to class at 10, head back to the library for homework after that and/or lunchtime at the dining hall, return to room to procrastinate and/or do homework, go to driver's ed, come back, finish up whatever was absolutely essential before 10 pm and then dance until I was tired enough to hit the hay.
For finals week, the routine is pretty much to get up as early as I can convince myself is reasonable and then to tackle the thing I hate the least on my to-do list. I've spent a lot of time packing and repacking because it's more fun than walking to north campus to do my north campus-y errands. Though I did get those all done today, I believe. (Made 20 bucks on selling back textbooks, yay! And bought a pretty new ring. It was a good set of errands.)
Daily routines are going to be even less existent in the days to come; summer time is the perfect time to not do the same thing every day. Though, I do have some projects that'll need constant attention. But I'm excited for those :)

Day 8...Your Sky

The sky is grayer today than it has been recently. I was a bit pouty about it when I woke up this morning. A tiny part of me is still used to my Sicilian summers and the idea that the sky could be gray in June is practically unfathomable. I guess I really should just get used to Washington already...gray skies all the time.

Day 7...Favourite

My favourite what?
Since I don't know which favourite I'm supposed to focus on, let's just have a list...

• Favourite song for the minute: "Let's Have a KiKi" by the Scissor Sisters. It's a bit scandalous but really fun to dance to
• Favourite movie (historically): Princess Bride
• Favourite book (though not for it literary merit): North of Beautiful by Justina Chen Headley
• Favourite city (Europe): Berlin, Germany
• Favourite city (America): I gotta admit it, I love Seattle
• Favourite candy: chocolate and peanut butter
• Favourite thing to do with friends: laugh
• Favourite time to do the dishes: to procrastinate on homework
• *Favourite sandwich condiments: bell peppers (red ones) and avocado (FRATELLO! YOU'VE RUINED ME!!)
• Favourite animal: cow
• *Favourite styles of facial hair on men with excellent jaw lines: stubble
• Favourite time to go on a walk: nighttime  
• Favourite berry: blueberries 
• Favourite reference to make: "Both. Both is good." -Miguel and Tulio, Mighty and Powerful Gods (The Road to El Dorado)
• Favourite time to read: whenever I can do it out in the sun
• Favourite time to dance: always
• Favourite time to watch Netflix (based on how often I do this): past one am
• Favourite wardrobe color: blue (I have so many blue clothes)
• Favourite type of craft: crocheting
• Favourite flower: all of them
• Favourite time to get flowers: always
• Favourite sport: soccer 
• Favourite angle at which to wear jaunty hats: Flapper worthy angles

*Thanks to Sherlock for helping me spice up my favourites list a bit