Slow down, sister

I made a promise to myself that 2011 will be the year that I take care of my life. The inner and the outer, the tangible, the invisible, the loud, the silent, the confident, the lost, the broken, the strong, the crazy I don't know what I am doing with myself life, the life that surrounds me and tries to get by without me touching it except by its coattails as it zooms by. That life.

But I am messy. I am messy in my room and I am messy in my head. Things jumble together and I get overexcited and want to tackle the whole wide universe of life-fixin's at once, and therefore implode before I even get started. I know, I've tried taking care of my life before. So this time I am going to try something new to me. I am going to try slowing down.

Slow is hard. Slow takes time, slow takes patience, slow takes faith. Three things that don't always go hand in hand. When I have one, I am missing the other two. When I finally get to two, the third somehow slips away. But no matter. This is a year of unity. The year I am getting my mind and life to zen. The year this trinity will finally merge. Time, patience, faith. To hold on to them is like the proverbial sand in the hand, I will try to hold loosely, and they will no longer squeeze away. I hope. No, I believe.

So I am slowing down. I am learning. Man, is it hard! I am the girl who does four squats and wants perfectly toned thighs. The girl who makes one batch of frosting and wants it to be Martha Stewart quality. The girl who gets a 1% raise and wants to buy the whole damn store. The girl who always leaves late for an appointment because she thinks she can make up time on the road. The girl who takes a Spanish class and thinks she's fluent. Who wants it all now and throws her hands up and walks away when now takes too long. I like to hurry but for no real reason. Not a good reason, anyway.

I think I am off to a good start. I am trying to prioritize things, organize issues into categories. Things like "health," "finances," "social life," "career goals." Instead of a long list of things to do in one day and not doing any of them, I have created a long list of things to do in a year, and am tackling them one, or two, at a time. I find that I can tackle "health" and "finances" at one time, but only if I subdivide these into smaller sections, so instead of "get teeth fixed, foot looked at, lose weight, make ophthalmologist appointment" and "do taxes, create separate savings accounts, pay off credit card debt, make more money," it's looking more like "get teeth fixed and get taxes done." Then, on to the second set. And so on. And so forth.

I'm also learning that realistic short term goals are much more achievable than lofty, far off goals. "Get to the point where I can do 120 squats and still be able to walk the next day" is a lot more achievable than "lose weight." "Pay off credit card debt within three months" is a lot more tangible than "earn more." "Blog about something important to you right now" is more likely to happen than "write a best seller."

It's really difficult for me, this slowing down thing. But I can already see its benefits. I am happy because I am achieving my short term goals. Therefore I am more encouraged to keep reaching other short term goals, and thus feel confident in setting new challenges for myself. It's kind of like the really unfortunate Catch-22 of working out/eating right. The worse you eat and the more out of shape you get, the less likely you are to be motivated to work out and eat better. But once you start, the more you workout, the easier it gets to watch what you eat, and the better you eat, the more dedicated you become to your workouts. I guess that's always been my problem. I want my donuts and my rock-hard abs, too, instantaneously. So I am making choices, setting priorities, and slowing down enough to see the difference between what I want and how to get there.

The Everlasting Universe of Things Flows Through the Mind

This past weekend M and I went to Yosemite for a night. In trying to recall the words that I'd describe this masterpiece, I thought of Shelley's "Mont Blanc." So for your pleasure, the visual of Yosemite, as described by Shelley when contemplating Mont Blanc in France:

Mont Blanc

by Percy Bysshe Shelley

(Lines written in the Vale of Chamouni)

1

The everlasting universe of things
Flows through the mind, and rolls its rapid waves,
Now dark - now glittering - now reflecting gloom -
Now lending splendor, where from secret springs
The source of human thought its tribute brings
Of waters, - with a sound but half its own,
Such as a feeble brook will oft assume
In the wild woods, among the mountains lone,
Where waterfalls around it leap for ever,
Where woods and winds contend, and a vast river
Over its rocks ceaselessly bursts and raves.

2

Thus thou, Ravine of Arve - dark, deep Ravine-
Thou many-colored, many voiced vale,
Over whose pines, and crags, and caverns sail
Fast cloud-shadows and sunbeams: awful scene,
Where Power in likeness of the Arve comes down
From the ice-gulfs that gird his secret throne,
Bursting through these dark mountains like the flame
Of lightning through the tempest; -thou dost lie,
Thy giant brood of pines around thee clinging,
Children of elder time, in whose devotion
The chainless winds still come and ever came
To drink their odors, and their mighty swinging
To hear - an old and solemn harmony;
Thine earthly rainbows stretched across the sweep
Of the ethereal waterfall, whose veil
Robes some unsculptured image; the strange sleep
Which when the voices of the desert fail
Wraps all in its own deep eternity;-
Thy caverns echoing to the Arve's commotion,
A loud, lone sound no other sound can tame;
Thou art pervaded with that ceaseless motion,
Thou art the path of that unresting sound-
Dizzy Ravine! and when I gaze on thee
I seem as in a trance sublime and strange
To muse on my own separate fantasy,
My own, my human mind, which passively
Now renders and receives fast influencings,
Holding an unremitting interchange
With the clear universe of things around;
One legion of wild thoughts, whose wandering wings
Now float above thy darkness, and now rest
Where that or thou art no unbidden guest,
In the still cave of the witch Poesy,
Seeking among the shadows that pass by
Ghosts of all things that are, some shade of thee,
Some phantom, some faint image; till the breast
From which they fled recalls them, thou art there!

3

Some say that gleams of a remoter world
Visit the soul in sleep,-that death is slumber,
And that its shapes the busy thoughts outnumber
Of those who wake and live. -I look on high;
Has some unknown omnipotence unfurled
The veil of life and death? or do I lie
In dream, and does the mightier world of sleep
Spread far and round and inaccessibly
Its circles? For the very spirit fails,
Driven like a homeless cloud from steep to steep
That vanishes amon the viewless gales!
Far, far above, piercing the infinite sky,
Mont Blanc appears,-still snowy and serene-
Its subject mountains their unearthly forms
Pile around it, ice and rock; broad vales between
Of frozen floods, unfathomable deeps,
Blue as the overhanging heaven, that spread
And wind among the accumulated steeps;
A desert peopled by the storms alone,
Save when the eagle brings some hunter's bone,
And the wolf tracks her there - how hideously
Its shapes are heaped around! rude, bare, and high,
Ghastly, and scarred, and riven. -Is this the scene
Where the old Earthquake-demon taught her young
Ruin? Were these their toys? or did a sea
Of fire envelop once this silent snow?
None can reply - all seems eternal now.
The wilderness has a mysterious tongue
Which teaches awful doubt, or faith so mild,
So solemn, so serene, that man may be,
But for such faith, with nature reconciled;
Thou hast a voice, great Mountain, to repeal
Large codes of fraud and woe; not understood
By all, but which the wise, and great, and good
Interpret, or make felt, or deeply feel.

4

The fields, the lakes, the forests, and the streams,
Ocean, and all the living things that dwell
Within the daedal earth; lightning, and rain,
Earthquake, and fiery flood, and hurricane,
The torpor of the year when feeble dreams
Visit the hidden buds, or dreamless sleep
Holds every future leaf and flower; -the bound
With which from that detested trance they leap;
The works and ways of man, their death and birth,
And that of him, and all that his may be;
All things that move and breathe with toil and sound
Are born and die; revolve, subside, and swell.
Power dwells apart in its tranquility,
Remote, serene, and inaccessible:
And this, the naked countenance of earth,
On which I gaze, even these primeval mountains
Teach the adverting mind. The glaciers creep
Like snakes that watch their prey, from their far fountains,
Slow rolling on; there, many a precipice,
Frost and the Sun in scorn of mortal power
Have piled: dome, pyramid, and pinnacle,
A city of death, distinct with many a tower
And wall impregnable of beaming ice.
Yet not a city, but a flood of ruin
Is there, that from the boundaries of the sky
Rolls its perpetual stream; vast pines are strewing
Its destined path, or in the mangled soil
Branchless and shattered stand; the rocks, drawn down
From yon remotest waste, have overthrown
The limits of the dead and living world,
Never to be reclaimed. The dwelling-place
Of insects, beasts, and birds, becomes its spoil
Their food and their retreat for ever gone,
So much of life and joy is lost. The race
Of man flies far in dread; his work and dwelling
Vanish, like smoke before the tempest's stream,
And their place is not known. Below, vast caves
Shine in the rushing torrents' restless gleam,
Which from those secret chasms in tumult welling
Meet in the vale, and one majestic River,
The breath and blood of distant lands , for ever
Rolls its loud waters to the ocean-waves,
Breathes its swift vapors to the circling air.

5

Mont Blanc yet gleams on high: - the power is there,
The still and solemn power of many sights,
And many sounds, and much of life and death.
In the calm darkness of the moonless nights,
In the lone glare of day, the snows descend
Upon that mountain; none beholds them there,
Nor when the flakes burn in the sinking sun,
Or the star-beams dart through them:-Winds contend
Silently there, and heap the snow with breath
Rapid and strong, but silently! Its home
The voiceless lightning in these solitudes
Keeps innocently, and like vapor broods
Over the snow. The secret Strength of things
Which governs thought, and to the infinite dome
Of Heaven is as a law, inhabits thee!
And what were thou, and earth, and stars, and sea,
If to the human mind's imaginings
Silence and solitude were vacancy?

Giant love

Personal photo taken at the train station in the morning, Nov. 2
after the Giants won the World Series on Nov. 1

Let me start by saying I am not a big baseball fan. Until quite recently, I did not even know who the Giants were. I am marrying a Dodger fan. But, Giant fever bit me this year.

At work, everyone was in a tizzy the last month over the Giants. During a very important dinner with some very important diplomats, most of the dinner guests spent the entire time checking their phones every two minutes to see the score of the Giants game they were "forced" to miss. On Halloween, little kids dressed up as Giants players. Everywhere you went in the area, Giants memorabilia lined storefronts, train stations, offices. Orange and black became representative of the baseball fury instead of Halloween. Target dedicated an entire isle to Giants (and Sharks) jerseys, hats, bats, balls, toys, etc. Co-workers left work at 1:30 to either attend games or make sure they were home in time to watch them on TV. Dedication at its finest.

This reminds me so much of being 18, living in Southern California, and the Lakers winning the championship for the second year in a row. Everywhere you went, Lakers. Everyone you talked to, Lakers. Everyone from Philadelphia was a sworn enemy. Anyone not sticking Lakers flags on their car was a traitor. This was a world or excitement, of anticipation, pride, innocence. It was June in 2001, and just a couple of months later, the world would change for ever. I would leave home to start college. While in Europe, I would watch the TV as New York bled and smoked. L.A. pride turned into American pride. Lakers flags were replaced with U.S. flags. The Lakers would go on to three-peat and win the championship again at the end of the season, but by that time it was getting harder for me to find the time to watch the games, harder to get as excited. Sports mania had somehow passed me by. It's never come back in full glory, but this year I witnessed it as a disinterested onlooker instead of manic fan, and I have to say, it warmed my heart to know so many people are being so fulfilled by "their" team's win.

It is wonderful to again be living in a place that gets to celebrate a victory like this. It makes me take pride in the place I live, as if by having a celebrated sports team, my choice of where I live is somehow validated. Also, seeing the faces of Giants fans lit up with pride reminds me why sports are so important in this world -- they bring folks together, give people something to hope and live for. Two nights before the midterm elections, the Giants gave everyone what they had been waiting for for so long -- a win in the world series! The morning after the elections, the Giants parade again gave the city and the fans something to either take their mind off the election results, or perhaps a reason to get out on the street and celebrate a two-fold win. Regardless of politics, the thousands of people who crowded the trains, the freeways, the parking lots, and the fast food restaurants today were excited, celebrating a victory that they'd had no part in. They were, simply put, happy. Nothing is bringing these folks down.

The power of vicarious happiness is pretty incredible. We may not be athletes ourselves, but when "our" team wins, we feel victorious. We may have best friends from all over the world, but in the final rounds, we protect "our" territory as if a conquering tyrant is threatening to take it over. We may not have ever met a pitcher, a quarterback, or a point guard, but we call these people by their first names, sometimes even by intimate nicknames, we have mental conversations with them, we scream at them from our peanut gallery seats or our couch, we project onto them heroics of Homeric stature, and somehow, mysteriously, we become better people in our own eyes when "our" team, "our" athlete, takes the win.

So, Go Giants! I am going to revel in the fact that I live in a place where people walking down the street have been smiling to themselves, saying hello to each other, laughing with strangers on the train, all because they are under the euphoria of a home team victory. Their happiness lets me forgive the belligerence on the train this morning when thousands of Giants fans crowded the commuter trains on the way to San Francisco for the Giants victory parade. Their happiness makes me happy.

In the spirit of sportsmanship, no matter what team you root for, the following sentiment expressed by a Giants fan and AT&T park usher who participated in the parade today sums up the glory of a hometown win:

"This is Christmas, New Year's, and your first-born all rolled into one. I'm on cloud nine."

City box

On September 30, 2009, M and I closed on our very first home, a midrise condo in a major metropolitan downtown area. Even as recently as June 2009, I was deeply skeptical about our ability to purchase a home in the area where we live, defined by any given statistic as one of the highest cost of living places in the United States. However, once M and I started seriously discussing our options, we realized that home ownership was in fact possible. The stars sort of aligned last year. We were able to take advantage of the First-time Home Buyer's Credit, the decrease in interest rates, and the fact that our home was pre-approved by the Federal Housing Administration (FHA) which meant we could have a very low down payment (still comparable to a very reasonable down payment for homes in say, most other parts of the country, but that's a rant for a different day).

We came across our home in one of those fateful moments of chance. We went, we saw, we totally loved. We did not visit too many other places in person, but we looked at listings online for what I can only estimate to be hundreds of homes/condos for sale in a relatively wide range of zip codes within an hour's distance of where we lived at the time. But nothing came close in what that first place offered -- location completely commute-friendly, two bedrooms and two baths, and a new construction. Both M and I have this dream of purchasing a home (house-home, not condo-home) with a yard (or several acres), with lots of do-it-yourself projects that we'd take on and sweat over, but right now we are not at that place in our life. He is working full time and at the time had two years left of grad school, which means we have no time to dedicate to things like mowing lawns, raking leaves, gutting bathrooms, building sheds, and so on. These all sound dreamy for one day, but that day was not now. After many conversations, we decided to go ahead and take the plunge, and commit ourselves to the place we had first considered. That was the easy part. Then came several weeks of insanity.

You hear that there are lots of papers to sign, contracts to read, people to call. You have no idea until you go through with it. They make you feel like you are about to sign away your soul and your first born. You also start doubting yourself as you have to explain every little bank transaction in the last upteenth months. "Sign here, initial the next 43 pages, make 4 copies, fax to this number, email to this person, and meet with so-and-so four times this week." Huh!? It was crazy.

Our initial lender was nice enough but rather sloth-like, so we switched to a different bank and completely lucked out by working with a woman who I can only liken to a blond bulldozer. She promised us we'd close in thirty days, and by golly, she made it happen. August and September of 2009 are a blur comprised of nightly calculating and re-calculating of budgets, and emailing and calling our lender. I think both and M and I were incredulous at first when we realized that we could afford to buy this home, and yet once we decided to do it, the sacrifices we'd have to make in order for it to work started sinking in. There goes my boot habit, his Starbucks addiction, our movie date nights, Thai every week, our gym (I still miss you, Equinox!), and the little insignificant expenses that really add up every month. But, we hankered down, and on September 30, 2009, we became home owners!

Now, you might wonder about the title of this post. Well, "city box" is what I call our little home. You see, we have no yard, no balcony, and we are on the equivalent of the fifth floor. So, literally, we live in a box. An 1,100 square foot box. The first thing we did before even moving in was paint each room. This was the first time either M or I had lived somewhere we could paint the walls, so we went color nuts. A red kitchen, a half-red bedroom, green living room, blue bathrooms (there was a gray situation in there as well but it was recently redeemed).

One thing we learned about being home owners is that you don't have to have everything right away. So what if we lived for nine months with no window coverings in our living room windows? Our view looks out to the hills so no one can look in, and we really enjoyed the view. That is, until I nearly started breaking out in hives at the thought of looking at the black metal window frame for ONE. MORE. SECOND. So, Bed Bath and Beyond, we spent way too much money on your curtains! But, we now have lovely curtains.

So what if we (still) have tension shower rods holding up an amalgamation of shower curtains and old curtains in both bedrooms? They keep out the sun, and they are a vast improvement to the first couple of nights when, I kid you not, we blew up our air mattress and stuffed it in our bedroom window to keep out the light and noise from the train (Oh, have I not mentioned Pete and Bob yet? They will get their own post, I am sure).

So what if it took months and months of internet searching and penny saving until we finally bought our shag rug in the living room? Every day I step on it and smile, happy to have found him for half off at Macys.

So what if we searched high and low for the perfect duvet (who knew there's a word for that?!) until we finally found it for $29 in the clearance bin at Bed Bath and Beyond?

So what if for the first six months, I never stepped foot in any other department than the "HOME" department at Macy's? I didn't even realize it, and frankly, didn't miss it (I miss it now, because my boot habit is starting to rear its ugly head again).

So what if for the first ten months we only had a tiny little round bar table and no real chairs? We waited til the perfect moment and finally have our beautiful seats-8 table with high-backed chairs, from World Market.

It was an incredible feeling purchasing each of our big items, and even our little ones, like our plants.

We've also learned a whole lot. For example, hard water is a bitch. Yes, I said it, it's a bitch! But a $5 purchase of Lemi Shine from Target has literally changed my life. Or that Whirlpool service people might be in the same category as postal office or DMV workers who wish to suck your soul. Or that you should always be very careful about what you believe to be "real" hard wood flooring. It seems like all we have to do is breathe hard, and our hard wood floors dent. Or that black granite counter tops look lovely, but are a ginormous pain to maintain. Every drop shows, so M is constantly wiping them down. I call him "Cinderelly." Or that having a washer and dryer in my own home makes me happier than I could have ever imagined. Or that when you see how many tens of thousands of dollars have gone no where NEAR the principal, and are all in interest or taxes, no one is there to make it be just a bad dream. You also learn all sorts of fun acronyms like FHA, HOA, PMI.

I will be honest, it took a while for our city box to feel like home. But now it has, and I can't imagine not living there with the love of my life -- at least for the next few years, by when, God-willing, our property value will go up and we can upgrade, and start this crazy process all over again!

Home

Birthday cupcakes

For M's birthday a couple of weeks ago, we decided that we wanted to celebrate a deux, and I promised to make cupcakes, instead of buying a birthday cake. I looked around the internet for different recipes, and finally settled on white chocolate cupcakes with raspberry filling from Good Things Catered, one of my favorite cooking blogs. However, I did not want to use shortening in the filling (shortening still kind of creeps me out), and Sharone was kind enough to forward me a low-fat, non-shortening recipe, so I used that instead. Then, I searched around for easy and waist-line friendly frosting recipes and found a chocolate cream cheese frosting (forget where). I was so excited to get a-baking, until I realized that I had pretty much none of the necessary tools. For one, I did not own a mixer. So off I went to Sur la Table, and back I came with my tail between my legs. Obviously, they were under the impression that money is falling out of my ears, because the cheapest hand mixer they had was around $70. So off I went to Target, and came home with a handy-dandy hand mixer which I already fantasize about trading in for a stand mixer. Sadly, this will probably only come to my counter when money is falling out of my ears...

I also did not have: cupcake paper cups, cornstarch, chocolate (white or milk), sprinkles, cream cheese, filling bags/tips ... basically anything involved in making my cupcakes! The only ingredients I had were flour and sugar... enough to make a sugary paste, but not enough for super duper birthday cupcakes!

After much fun was had exploring the baking isle at Safeway, I was revved and ready to bake!

Everything but the kitchen sink

Fresh out of the oven. Smelled delicious!

Now comes the filling! A bit messy but sooo yummy!

Ooey, gooey

Finished product

Recipe, as adapted by moi:

White Chocolate Cupcakes with Raspberry Filling

Cake Ingredients:
8 oz. Ghirardelli white chocolate chips
1 3/4 c. all purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 c. sugar
1/2 c. (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
1/4 c. oil
1 Tbsp vanilla extract
1/2 c. canned unsweetened coconut milk
3 large egg whites

Directions:
-Preheat oven to 325 degrees and prepare muffin tins with paper liners.
-Place white chocolate in metal bowl set over pan of barely simmering water.
-Stir until melted and smooth (this was really fun!).
-In medium bowl, whisk flour, baking powder, and salt.
-In bowl of stand mixer, beat sugar, butter, and vanilla until blended and fluffy, about 2 minutes.
-Slowly add in oil while running and mix until combined.
-Add hot white chocolate to sugar mixture; stir to combine.
-Add flour mixture in 3 additions alternately with coconut milk in 2 additions, beating batter just to combine between additions. (I think I could have gotten better quality coconut milk, or maybe I'm just not used to its texture, but it was kind of clumpy).
-Using clean dry beaters, beat egg whites in medium bowl until soft peaks form. (umm white peaks didn't really form... this is where I need more practice)
-Gently fold egg white mixture into batter.
-Divide batter among muffin cups (about 1/4 cup each).
-Bake until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 25 minutes.
-Cool completely. (try really really hard not to eat the cupcakes)
-Using melon baller, ball out small portion of the top of each cupcake and discard. (or, as I did, EAT).
-Fill disposable bag with raspberry filling and pipe into scooped out portion of each cupcake until just reaching height of top of the cupcake. (this was a big mess!! definitely need practice with the filling bag!)
-Ice as desired. (I made a chocolate cream cheese icing that turned out a bit runny but I did not use as much sugar as the recipe had called for. I think that would have made it stiffer). I also sprinkled colored sugar on each cupcake for a more festive, birthday-ish feel :)

Raspberry filling:

1 1/2 cups raspberries
1 tablespoon cornstarch
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/4 cup sugar
a small handful of Ghirardelli milk chocolate chips

In a small sauce pan, combined all of the ingredients and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Let cool. Take little scoops out of each cupcake with the fruit scooper thing, and using the frosting bag, inject a bit of the filling into each cupcake. Mine turned out a bit messy but no biggie. The filling turned out tangy and very raspberry-ish, which was perfect!

Gourmand ambitions

Something very exciting has been happening lately -- amidst a subtle and ongoing midlife crisis, I have discovered that I really enjoy cooking and baking; this is probably a felicitous discovery considering how much I like eating!

Since domesticity has never been among my strong suits, at first I was surprised by my own epicuriosity. I blame three people for this new interest: my mother, M, and Sharone. While my parents visited, my mother cooked almost daily, reminding me of how much I love her food. At first, I didn't understand why she wanted to spend so much time slaving away cooking, especially with some of the more time-consuming dishes she made. But then, I started realizing that cooking wasn't just meant to be a means of feeding us, but rather an expression of her creativity, ability, usefulness... in short, identity. When you cook something, you put yourself into that food, and it becomes a signal to those eating the meal that you took the time and effort and pleasure to create this food for them. You are nourishing them in a very particular way - your way, and at the same time telling them that they are important enough for you to cook for them, and that you are important enough to be trusted with this responsibility. I guess I am realizing that when not done out of sheer necessity, cooking can become an outlet for one's personality much like creative writing, painting, playing an instrument can. But unlike all these other outlets, it yields tasty, delicious food!

The second person I blame for my newly discovered passion is M. If he wasn't so supportive of all my whacky ideas, and didn't encourage me to do whatever it is that makes me happy, and didn't like to eat as much as I do, I may have been prevented from obsessively creating Amazon wish lists of all my new "must-have" cooking and baking needs! Our apartment would not suddenly feel too small because it cannot house all the hundreds of spice jars, dozens of baking molds, etc etc etc that I suddenly want to spend half my paychecks on.

Thirdly, reading Sharone's blog encourages me to take chances on things I never previously wanted to make. Her amazing ability to squeeze in time to create Margarita Cupcakes and gorgeous fluffy clouds of deliciousness while juggling wedding showers, work, grad school, and life has convinced me that there is always time for a tasty treat!

I think this cooking thing is part of a bigger picture. Lately, I've been overwhelmed by new hobbies that I want to pursue, from camping and backpacking, to spin classes and running, to cooking and becoming the next finance guru (okay, that's a bit far-fetched. But I do have this fantasy of creating a super-duper portfolio that is chock full of diverse investments, and participating in conversations in which I confidently command the usage of words like "maturity," "municipal bonds," and "hedge fund.")

Wherefore these interests? Wherefore now? I blame the clock. The clock that in a voice akin to Chinese water torture tells me each day, "You are getting older." And, without magical ear plugs to shut out this evil clock, I somehow along the way decided that "older" will not mean "boring," will not mean "settled," will not mean "slow" or "fat" or "dowdy." I have decided that if fate must be left to her devices and pull me into adulthood and all the things that come with it, I will do it on my own terms.

So, for now, I spin, I run, I ache. I eat, I cook, I bake. (I couldn't help myself!)

Things to come

1. Photo proof* of my culinary adventures, including my soon-to-become famous white chocolate, raspberry-filled, and chocolate cream cheese-frosted cupcakes.

2. Impressions of 4th of July camping trip.

3. Additions to my foot woes/whoahs series, including adventures in barefoot running and my high hopes for five-toed running shoes.

4. Discussions on upcoming events, including Kenny Chesney concert, Wharf-to-Wharf run, and possibly Harry Potter film.

5. Most likely a review of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

* Cupcake shown in banner was not made by yours truly.

Muddy High

I have a little secret. The Mud Run on Saturday was... great fun!

The three muddy buddies after coming out of the final mud pit, but before crossing the finish line

The day started early; actually, it started on Friday, with a flight into Burbank. We tried to go to bed at a reasonable hour, because come Saturday morning, we were up at 4 (or was it 4:30)? M's sister and her daughter came over, and together with M's mom, we piled into the minivan all sleepy-like. Los Angeles freeways are probably best experienced at 5 a.m. on Saturdays, but who really wants to do that? Anyways, the drive toward San Diego was great, smooth riding all the way. I had a couple cereal bars - Nature Valley yogurt bars beat out the Odwalla bar in the taste test - and slathered my feet in anti-blister gel. We were making fantastic time, and were two exists from Camp Pendelton with plenty of time to spare, when we decided to take a pee break at the rest stop off the freeway rather than wait until we got to the race, figuring the port-a-potties would be both crowded and gross. Well, the quick pit stop turned into a 45-minute detour, and by the time we got back on the freeway to go one more exit, the line to get off was about a mile long. We crawled on the freeway, crawled through the base entrance, crawled through the base, and crawled into a parking spot. Finally, we had arrived! We were late as all hell now, but we had arrived! We parked too close to bus it, so we walked to the entrance, which was good, as it gave us a bit of a warm-up. We got our t-shirts (yay!), checked in our bags, peed one more time in a totally disgusting port-a-potty, and finally made it to the staging area. Wow! Talk about a crowd! I knew that there were 4000 people running this race, but all of a sudden I realized, There are 4000 people running this race! We literally got in line a minute before the starting time at 9:00, just in time to sing the "Star Spangled Banner," and then we were off!!!

My number

We ran for what seemed like a quarter mile, maybe, and got hosed down by (hot) marines (this "hot marines" theme will be a recurring one, so pay attention). Now, previous to the race, I had not been excited at the thought of being soaking wet and cold and running in slushy shoes. But, wouldn't you know? It is great fun! The water wasn't as icy cold as I had expected, and with the San Diego mugginess, and the hotness of 4000 people around, it felt actually refreshing. Did we scream bloody murder? Of course! We were being hosed down by (hot) marines, for goodness' sake!

The order of the obstacles is rather fuzzy to me now, but I remember there was sad (not so fun, but not so bad), a little river crossing, another hosing down by (hot) marines, and hills. There were definitely hills on this run. "Suicide Hill" is a two-mile long incline, and I had been really nervous about it, but I've had a good coach the last few months, who encouraged me to run the hills behind Stanford with urgency, and it paid off. I was tired, and it was hard, but nothing unmanageable.

Now, the mud. Oh, the mud... it is exactly what I imagined. Sticky, thick, stenchy, wet... Kind of like cow manure in smell, and swampy mulch in texture. But the mud pits are not long enough to become truly nauseating, and the only really difficult thing about them is trying not to twist your ankles when going in and out of the pits, as you can't see where you're placing your feet, and the mud is all bumpy and slippery.

The obstacle I had been most concerned about was the reservoir crossing, but it actually turned out to be my favorite! Basically, you have to cross a football field-length water reservoir, with water about nose-height for me (blessed are the tall!). I thought it would be awful, and as I'm not a strong swimmer, I'd had visions of me drowning and having all the (hot) marines laughing at my pansiness. But I held one hand on M's shoulder, and by kinda of moon-walking and holding on, I managed to get all the way across. The only hard part was getting out. We all wanted to stay in that cool, clean, calming water. But, no, we got out and immediately started running.

Now, a word about running wet. It's not so bad, definitely not as bad as I had anticipated. Yes, your shoes squeak, but that's really all. I had on really tight clothing, so I didn't feel any wet-clothes discomfort. The only really hard part is the pebbles in the shoes, especially as they dry. While all the sand and pebbles that get in are still wet, it just feels a little rough. But once they are dry, it's like... well it's like what you'd imagine running with a shoe full of rubble would feel like. However, I discovered that it is much easier to run with many rocks in your shoe, than with just one little one. If I'm running and there's one pebble in there, I have to stop and get it out. But magically, multiply that pebble by a hundred, make my shoes wet and give me some mud in my eyes, and I can run no problem.

On our race, there were no tires or hay bales obstacles, which I have heard occasionally show up. Maybe because it was the first Mud Run of the season, or maybe there were too many people, but they weren't there. There was a pipe-like tunnel thing, which I did not crawl through but rather walked through, all scrunched in. This is where I was very thankful for the squats I have been doing!!

The very worst part of the race for me were the walls - they are very tall, slippery, and once you jump over them, you land in bumpy, slippery, mud. This is where M's sister got hurt - the first wall. She messed up her ankle, and I felt so bad for her because it was relatively early on in the race. But she was a super-trooper, and completed the rest of the race beautifully. Still, those damn walls -- if I do this next year, I'm definitely beefing up my arms and growing about 7 inches, because these f*****s are tall! The second one I jumped was a "double" wall, meaning twice as thick, so I couldn't even hook my hands around it. M's sis propped me up, and M helped me come down on the other side. Without them, I know I would have had to get a (hot) marine to help me, or just flounder around in the mud until someone took mercy on me and let me walk around the damn things. They are awful!

Lastly, there is the final mud pit, which is super wet and stinky. There are plastic flags strewn across every few feet, and you can't get higher than those flags -- basically you have to cross on the mud pit on your hands and knees. The worst part of it by far is just that your knees get all scratched up and the mud makes it kinda of sting, but even that is not so bad.

When we got out of the mud pit, we saw M's mom on the sidelines, and stopped to take a couple of pictures, which makes for good photos, but for slower time! We then sprinted to the official finish line, with a finishing time of 1 hour, 52 minutes, and 58 seconds. MUCH slower than M's time last year of 1 hour, 30 minutes. However, this is where I put in my time disclaimer -- since we got to the starting line so late, there weer literally thousands of people ahead of us, which led to extreme bottlenecking at several parts along the course. I think we could have easily shaved 10 minutes off of our time just by taking out all the time we spent waiting around to get through narrow parts of the trails. Overall, though, I can't be upset about the time - we weren't really doing it with a time goal in mind, though if I do it again next year, my goal is to beat 1 hour 30.

(If you look carefully in the picture, you see us three running towards the finish line)

I couldn't believe when we were finished that it had all gone by. I mean, it was seriously fun! It is true that you feel a great sense of pride in yourself - you just did this hard thing, and survived, and enjoyed it! A few months ago I couldn't run half a block, and now I ran six miles and jumped walls and crossed reservoirs, and got high-fives from (hot) marines along the way!!

I forgot to mention that occasionally, marines would be on the side of the trails with water guns spraying us down, or handing out water and Gatorade, and cheering us on. That was great fun, and it was nice to feel like they were proud of us, and in turn we are all proud of them for what they do. It was all very squishy-lovey-dovey, in a muddy-runny-mess kind of way.


After the race, we met up with M's mom and niece, and took photos, and bought souvenir shirts, and got a celebratory beer. I had wanted to shower, but there were only about 3500 people in line waiting to shower, so I decided to just change while M held a towel around me. Mmm, nothing like putting fresh clothes on over caked mud! Actually - it was kind of fun. M and I kind of wandered around and took it all in, and again felt all squishy-lovey-dovey.

Then, we headed back to L.A. and while we made a fruitless detour trying to go to In-N-Out, we still got to L.A. in an hour and a half! Awesome time! We dropped off M's mom, sis, and niece, and M and I went and got a celebratory Bacon Western burger and fries (and a taco) from the best burger place in all of Los Angeles, Pete's. We did split the burger, as we were having bbq later that night, but man! That was the best burger I've ever had! I was S-T-A-R-V-I-N-G at that point - about 2:30 p.m., and we wolfed that bad boy down!

Thus, our Mud Run adventure drew to a close. It was a successful adventure in every sense: I got in better shape, learned to semi-like running, bonded with M's sister who inspired me all this time to keep training, and achieved something that even a year ago when I spectated at the Mud Run I thought I would never be able to do.

I guess the marines have reminded me of a lesson we all should remember, which is that if we do set our minds to something and work hard toward that goal, there are very few things in life that we can't achieve. All the little things that I tried to use as excuses turned out to be just that, excuses. "I don't have enough time," but I made time. "My feet hurt," but I got new shoes and insoles, and my feet were just fine. "I can't breathe!" (This was a big one at the beginning), but I learned that if I kept training, my heart and lungs started getting stronger, and soon I could run and talk at the same time.

Now, the goal on the horizon running-wise is the Wharf to Wharf in Santa Cruz/Capitola at the end of July. Thank goodness I signed up for it, otherwise I might be very tempted to stop running for a while. As for next year's Mud Run, I'm almost positive that I will do it again, even if to prove to myself that I can beat M's time from last year ;-)

25 Things

This is adapted from Facebook and inspired by Fay

Rules: you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you.

1. I like to think that I could survive on sugar confections alone - particularly cake, pie, pudding, real Pepsi (the kind you get in Europe or Mexico), and newly acquired passion -- red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting from Sprinkles.

2. I hate acting my age.

3. I could watch kids' movies all day, every day. "The Brave Little Toaster" comes to mind... also the original "Parent Trap," any and all Pixar movies ever made, "My Robot;" seriously, the list can go on for days.

4. I must have listened to Matchbox 20's "Yourself or Somebody Like You" at least 1000 times in high school.

5. I think women are far sexier than men.

6. I hate running - hate it - but when I have an occasional "good day" I get such an endorphin rage that I tell myself I will run again tomorrow, which inevitably is never as satisfying.

7. I too (Fay) still have to recite the alphabet to remember the order when I’m looking things up in a reference book. I also count on my fingers.

8. I take candy - especially the peach gummy Os - out of the open plastic buckets in the grocery store. Some people call it stealing; I call it a tasty snack.

9. I despise Pomeranians.

10. Britney will forever be my favorite pop star.

11. I have eaten ostrich meat (it was not good).

12. I read every Anne Rice book I can get my hands on, even though everything after Witching Hour has been a huge disappointment.

13. One of my pet peeves is bad spelling.

14. I eat boiled pasta with nothing on it but ketchup, and it is delicious.

15. I would rather suffer from a cold or the flu than take cough syrup or NyQuil. Just the thought of it is making me want to throw up a little.

16. I wish I did not have to think about whether I want kids or not until at least my 40s.

17. I watch cooking shows while running on the treadmill.

18. I used to think I was going to marry Zach Braff.

19. I think the sexiest instrument to listen to is the cello, and the prettiest language is Farsi.

20. I am getting an IPhone this weekend; and I'm pretty sure my next computer will be a Mac.

21. One day, I will write a book, and it will be awesome. The subject and/or genre is yet to be decided upon.

22. The funniest person I know is my bf's six-year old niece.

23. My favorite male character from literature is Francisco D'Anconia from Atlas Shrugged.

24. I want to travel to all fifty states. So far I have been to CA, AZ, NV, HI, NE, and most of the New England states, though I would love to go to all of them again.

25. Today is my four-month anniversary of working at Stanford.

What's in a week? (A hell-of-a dream!)

Right before my alarm woke me up this morning, I was in the midst of a wonderful dream. I was one person in a sea of many; I was engulfed in excitement, joy, pride, loud and unabashed celebration. It was Inauguration Day, and Barack Obama was about to become the 44th President of the United States. I looked down, and saw I was wearing my favorite jeans. Around me, people were dressed in jeans, sweatshirts, t-shirts; on their feet were flip-flops, Converse sneakers, running shoes. Their heads were bare and their faces glowed with anticipation. We were all one massive sea of people, and we were on the Stanford campus. The President-elect, soon to be the President, was expected any second. There was no security to keep anyone back, block any bullets, prevent any miscreant act of violence, because this wasn't the kind of world where that was feasible. I could hardly contain myself; I kept running through my head what I wanted to say to President Obama when he came to speak to me. Should I tell him "Congratulations"? How redundant! Should I say "This is the dawning of a new era"? Absolutely not. How about BEEP BEEP BEEP!!! BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!

FREAKIN CRAP! I can't BELIEVE THIS SHIT! I snooze. I force my mind to go back to the dream. It is gone. GONE! I nearly start crying in my pillow. Sleep, damn it, sleep, it will come back. It doesn't. All I hear is our neighbors Indian music blaring from his alarm clock as he, too, struggles with waking.

I get up. I stand in the doorway, watching M put on his running shoes. How can he go to the gym at a time like this?, I ask myself. Doesn't he know I just got ripped out of a world in which I could speak to the freakin PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES?!?! He doesn't. "You look cute," he says. (I look like crap-- hair hasn't been washed in days, it decides this morning to stand up, sideways, defying gravity). "I'm going to the gym!" He is too chipper. Too early, too chipper, too - oh who cares?! I JUST WANT TO GO BACK TO MY DREAM!

Interjection -- I have been having awful dreams for the last few nights; seriously, one involved some sort of farm animal attack in which I was the sad loser). This only made this morning's dream that much more precious.

M leaves; I stumble into the bathroom. I stare into the mirror.

"HOLY CRAP IT'S BEEN A WEEK! A WHOLE WEEK!" The realization hits me like heavy blinds being suddenly drawn, letting in the sunshine.

I suddenly feel proud of myself for subconsciously commemorating Barack Obama's first week in office with my own personal dream. (I also realize I tend to be egotistical in the morning, thinking my dream somehow makes Obama's presidency real, rather than his presidency allowing for my dream to happen).

I dressed up for work this morning. And by dressed up, I mean I wore my nice black pants that I hardly ever wear, and an actual blazer over my little red sweater. I even wore the black heels, and did my hair. I was celebrating a little inside, because contrary to who it looked like I was sleeping next to, I secretly know that I was only moments away from spending some personal time with our President. And when one meets the President, one aught to look one's best!

Ray of Light Fund

On behalf of my very good friend, Ray Cruz, I am posting below the email launching the Ray of Light Fund, a nonprofit organization aiming to combine awareness of one's personal health and well-being with awareness that many children struggle with illness everyday, and that places like Childrens Hospital Los Angeles makes a real difference in many sick kids' lives. Please read his message below, and check out the newly launched Ray of Light Fund website.


To all of my family, friends, co-workers and people who I have yet to meet,

It is with my great pleasure that I present to you the Ray of Light Fund. Four months in the making, this started as a conceptual notion on a treadmill and proceeded to become my obsession. In August of 2008 I decided that I wanted to start my own nonprofit fund to benefit an organization that helped saved my life when I was a child, the Childrens Hospital Los Angeles. To make a long story short, I have come to a point in my life where I can give back to this great organization that treats seriously ill children and helps many live long healthy lives, like myself. I hope that you take the time to learn a little bit about the Ray of Light Fund and how you can help me raise funds for the Childrens Hospital Los Angeles.

The Ray of Light Fund is a fitness-oriented nonprofit donating 100% of its proceeds to Childrens Hospital Los Angeles. The Ray of Light Fund recognizes Childrens Hospital Los Angeles for the outstanding care it provides to ill children, and aims to raise awareness that we all have the power to help improve a child's life. Being an engineer stuck in a cubicle 40 hours a week I also want to relate wanting to stay in shape to fundraising. Thus, the Ray of Light Fund was created and I am very excited to discuss my goals with you.

Starting in January 2009, the Ray of Light Fund will host bi-monthly training sessions across the Greater Los Angeles area at popular trails, hikes, parks, beaches, and gyms. These will be open to anyone who would like to make changes in their life or just a get together with a group of people who want to stay fit. Young, old, tall, short, slow, fast anyone can get involved.

I feel that the best way to stay fit is to have a goal in mind, something to train for.. After participating in the 2008 World Famous Mud Run I committed myself to training for the 2009 race. A very short but fun marathon, the Camp Pendleton Mud Run will serve as a platform for the Ray of Light Fund to promote fitness and raise awareness of the Childrens Hospital Los Angeles. Registration and participation in the World Famous Camp Pendleton Mud Run does not have any ties with the Ray of Light Fund nor the Childrens Hospital, but I encourage you all to participate in this fun marathon. Signing up for the race is done through the Camp Pendleton Races website, with proceeds from these fees going toward another positive cause benefiting the families of the United States armed forces. Registration begins January 1st, 2009 and does sell out within the first couple weeks, so I urge those who would like to join me to do so quickly! Please note that the Ray of Light Fund will register for the Saturday June 13th 2009 run.

In addition to training events, the Ray of Light Fund will organize fundraisers to help reach and hopefully exceed our goal of $25,000 by June of 2009. Our main fundraising avenue will be through the website http://www.RayofLightFund.org/ where donors can link directly to the Childrens Hospital donation page. I would like to stress that all moneys raised go directly to Childrens Hospital. Donating on behalf of the Ray of Light Fund on the Childrens Hospital website will be the primary source of fundraising. Various events will also be hosted in the coming months to help raise money for our cause.

I invite you to get involved in this cause that I am very passionate about in any way you can. One thing I have learned is that Los Angeles is a great place to network and there are many people out there who are willing to help if presented with a good cause. So I challenge you to get your company involved, tell all of your friends and family, come to our open training sessions and fundraising events, and be a part of the journey. I personally decided to take things a step further and currently am a volunteer at the Childrens Hospital Los Angeles playing with the children at the Child Life Playrooms.

I appreciate you taking the time to read this email. Please look through the PowerPoint attachment and check the website weekly for event information and details of the fund. To learn more about the Camp Pendleton Mud Run and the story of how the Childrens Hospital saved my life, see the About Us tab on the Ray of Light Fund website http://www.RayofLightFund.org/. Help me make this small dream of mine become something larger than I could imagine. Forward this email or my web site to anyone who you feel would like to help.

Sincerely,

Raymond Anthony Cruz

Ray of Light Fund Founder

W: www.RayofLightFund.org
E: Info@RayofLightFund.org
C: 818.324.9474

For those interested in receiving Ray of Light Fund publications please look out for the ROLF Newsletter from Info@RayofLightfund.org.

'Tis the Season

Winter is finally upon us. I know this because today it was cold. Not Wisconsin-freeze-your-eye-balls cold, but definitely cold for an Orange County girl. The high today was 56 degrees in Palo Alto - definitely fuzzy scarf weather.

Another reason I know it is really winter is because Christmas is now around the corner, and I can get into the holiday spirit. The Christmas songs on the radio and in stores began a few weeks ago, which really bugs me because by the time Christmas rolls around, I'm sick of Rudolf and his red nose. But now, with December in full swing, it is time to deck the halls and be merry!

Yesterday, M and I bought "our" first Christmas tree! It was very exciting. We went to Target and scoped out the fake trees they had there. I was highly impressed with Target's selection! We picked a little four foot tall one, kind of fuzzy, not the typical wintergreen kind of fake tree. I originally had wanted a real tree, but with us not being home the two weeks before and after Christmas, I did not want a real tree to have died without getting the chance to bring joy on Christmas morning. The tree was actually really cute, though it was pretty scraggly when it came out of the box. We had to fluff it up a bit, and by the end, it was nice and bushy. I found a really cute Penguin ornament at Target, and some new ball ornaments, but most of the stuff in the tree came from my Christmas box that I've had for years. We also strung up blue lights in our little tree, because blue lights are my favorite. If I do say so myself, our little tree is not too shabby!

While I decked out our tree, M put up lights outside on our balcony, and inside around the living room's big window/door. We even decorated our little bamboo tree - no reason exotic trees can't get dressed up and join the party! And, our little Wilbur got his very own Christmas bell around his fat little neck. He is too cute not to share, so he got top billing in this entry. Some people have kids, others have pets; we have our Wilbur the Pig, and he is a great apartment pig. He is also a very politically involved lil' pig, and if you squint, you can see his Obama pin on his right ear.

It was really nice decorating our apartment and getting into the holiday spirit. We played Kenny Chesney's Christmas album, "All I Want for Chirstmas is a Real Good Tan" (how country of us!) while we put decorations up, and hummed along to visions of a white Christmas - white sand, that is! Domestic little things like Christmas decorating really make one feel like half a couple. It's still strange sometimes to think, Wow, I live with this person; this tree belongs to both of us. Strange, but warm and fuzzy, and isn't warm and fuzzy what the holidays are all about?

Thankful

This morning on KRTY, the DJs asked listeners to text in the foods they were thankful for, and someone must have read my mind, because they texted, "pudding." This may be a little-known fact about me, but I could eat chocolate pudding by the bucket-fulls. Pudding is delicious! But that is besides the real point, which is that the pudding text made me think of foods I am thankful for, and from there, different things over the past year for which I'm thankful.

I'm thankful I have friends who remind me it isn't proper writing etiquette to end sentences with a preposition (nearly did right above!). In retrospect, I did not spend nearly enough time during grad school getting to know the great people I went to school with, but somehow after school was over, I got to keep some of them as friends, and I'm thankful that I have peers who inspire me and push me to be my best.

I am thankful I have truly lovely parents, and that I live at a time of exciting technology that makes the world so small that I can talk to them and see them everyday without much effort. Just a few years ago, this would have been nearly impossible, and at the very least, expensive and frustrating. Back in 2003, internet connections were so crappy by comparison, that even a 5 minute conversation was a hassle, with the image freezing, and echoes, and so on. And speaking of technology, I'm thankful for our office copy machine! It scans documents directly to email, making my life infinitely easier when dealing with hundred-pages long applications.

On the topic of work, I'm thankful for my job, and that it's on a beautiful university campus with hundreds of trees changing their colors right about now. The people I work with or come across during my work day remind me how much one person can achieve if they set their mind to it. Sometimes there is so much ugliness in the world, and so many stupid people seem to populate it, that it's easy to forget there are many people who truly care to make this world better. Some of the things I do at work remind me that even when I feel smug about myself for the small accomplishments I have reached, I come nowhere near what others accomplish.

I'm also thankful that my job comes with a paycheck that allows me to enjoy other things I am thankful for, like my kick-ass boots. There are some articles of clothing that I become very attached to (in the past, these have included certain jeans and pajama pants that I literally wore until they fell apart, my Happy Bunny t-shirt, my silver purse), and my Born boots are my new obsession. I could wear these things all day (actually, I do!). They are the first high-heel shoes I can walk in for hours, and I can't wait to wear them with skirts. The only bad thing is they don't come in black, which I honestly can't understand. Who doesn't make boots in black?

I'm thankful that in a few weeks, I get to go away with my wonderful boyfriend for a little vacation. Even though we live together, and thus have lots of alone time, there is still something really exciting about the idea of being alone (amidst hundreds of strangers) away from home. Even more than being thankful for our vacation, I'm thankful for him, and for the little life we have together, and for the fact that he shares his family with me, and for the songs he sings to me when he practices on his guitar.

I'm thankful for many little things, like left-over candy corn that doesn't seem to run out and always waits for me in the cupboard. And my desk heater at work that keeps me cozy even when it's freezing. And the donuts shop across the street from our apartment that is open 24 hours a day, every day. I'm thankful for lemon pie, which I am seriously craving now that my coworkers went on and on about I'm thankful for my car, which I've had now for almost five years! And our swiveling TV that lets us watch "Dancing With the Stars" even when sitting on different couches. I'm thankful for country music, which keeps me positive and amused, and provides hours of guitar-playing and singing at our apartment. I'm thankful that one of the perks of my job is that I can use any library on campus and check books out for a year. Along that line, I'm thankful for literature, which constantly teaches me empathy. I'm thankful for books on CD, which make long drives feel shorter. I'm thankful that the Bush administration is nearly done, and we have a new chapter to look forward to in the development of our country, and I'm thankful that there are high expectations of our new president, so that he may reach high. I'm thankful for Facebook, which makes work endlessly more entertaining. I'm thankful for many, many things, and people, and hopefully I can keep that in mind throughout the coming year. It's a funny thing about holidays - for a few days, we think about the blessings we have, and appreciate them, and give thanks for them, but it seems like for the rest of the year, we take them for granted.

In just a few weeks, it will be "New Year's Resolutions" time. Last year, I didn't make any, so maybe this year I can make double the resolution to be more appreciative of the blessings I have. But that's not for another month. For now, Happy Thanksgiving!

What a week [will] bring

I have neglected my "What's in a week" series, and too much has happened in the past month to write about it right now, but a quick thought process about what MIGHT happen within the week to come.

In a week, we will know who the next president of the United States will be. God willing, we will make the right choice. Everyone always bitches about WHOEVER winds up being president, and I have no high hopes of the next 4 years being smooth sailing if Barack Obama wins, but I harbor deep-seated fears if "that [other] one" (how you like 'dem apples, John?) wins. He won't though. He can't. Can he?!? Oh God.

Moving on before I have an anxiety attack.

Oh wait, one more thing - In a week we will also be voting on all of those "props" that have been constantly in seemingly every commercial on the radio or on TV. Of course, the one everyone is talking about is Prop 8. Why are we voting on this, what is the purpose? We have already voted on, passed, and put into practice legal gay marriage in the state of California. Who are these people that suddenly decide that one vote is not enough, that we must keep voting and re-voting and re-re-voting because they don't like the way people have voted before on a human rights issue? Does this mean that given enough support, we may one day see on the ballot Prop whatever, asking that we amend women's right to vote? What if someone woke up and said, hey, I think a hundred years ago or whenever, they had it right, and black people should only count as a fraction of a person when casting their votes. Should that be allowed on the ballot, even though we have clearly made equal voting rights a human right for everyone a long time ago? How is marriage any different than voting rights? Everyone has the right to vote, to speak, to pray, to protest, to do all kinds of things! Why not marry? And why are religious groups the ones most against this? For Christians, doesn't Jesus tell us to love EVERYONE? Isn't he a defendant of the misrepresented, the marginal, the outcast? Isn't his first miracle performed at a wedding? Why should gay people not have the privilege to enjoy this greatest of human self-imposed misery? The thing that most irks me though is this insane propaganda for Prop 8 that tries to terrify us by using the oldest and lamest trick in the book - "the children." Oh, God, the children! If Prop 8 does not get passed, our children will be forced by their public school teachers to listen to endless propaganda about homosexuality. They will be corrupted! They will turn away from Jesus! They will all become homos and whores! I exaggerate, but this is the innuendo in these ads. I mean, what in the name of all that is holy? When did we EVER talk about "marriage" in elementary school? I don't remember a SINGLE time when we talked about marriage AT ALL unless it was "oh Pocahontas married so and so." Even during Sex Ed no one mentioned MARRIAGE. I highly doubt that if Prop 8 is defeated, suddenly PUBLIC, GOVERNMENT-FUNDED SCHOOLS will all of a sudden include curriculum about GAY marriage, let alone any kind of marriage. It's so sad really that this is even an issue.

In a week, I will have finished this most obnoxious book, Taltos. I don't know what possessed me (ha!) to pick this up. I had sworn off this book after reading Lasher last summer... Oh! It was listening to Blackwood Farm on CD during our long drives to/from L.A.! You see, that books combines the Vampire Chronicles AND the Mayfair witches! AWESOME! But thank goodness we are LISTENING to it and not READING, because I may have actually thrown the book at the wall, Anne Rice is SO annoying in her portrayal of Taaaarquiiiiinnnn Blaaackwoood. Let's out it this way, we are on disk 15 of 18, and we STILL have no gotten to the CORE of the novel!! Anyhoo, listening to BF on CD made me really curious about the gap between Lasher and BF, so I finally gave in and checked out Taltos from that haven of mine, the Mountain View Public Library. The first 200 pages were FABULOUS! I felt SO redeemed! There was character insight, interesting plot turns, short scenic descriptions, teasers, sex, the whole shebang. Now, smack in the middle of the book, it has gone incredibly sour. I should have known when I caught a GARRISH mistake on Rice's part -- on one page, the character Mona decides to drink orange juice instead of coffee, we even get a description of what the oj tastes like (so Rice!) and on the VERY NEXT PAGE, the character (Mona, the slutty 13 year old pregnant with her mentor's husband's baby who may/may not be a Taltos, a non-human giant) sits at the breakfast table drinking COFFEE! Then, in the very next paragraph, she is back to orange juice. Tsk, tsk, Anne Rice! I could have forgiven that, if the following chapters didn't deteriorate into a mindless mush. For some reason, my favorite character (aforementioned Mona) has become a complete idiot, and we have entirely lost track of the other, more interesting side story about the actual TALTOS, which gives the book its very title. Enough ranting about this bad literary mistake on my part, which I nevertheless will trudge through, and perhaps award myself with some Didion once I am done.

In a week I will have survived my lover's first midterms in grad school! I may not be the one studying all the time, writing the papers, doing the projects, but it is very tasking to stand by helplessly as your loved one sells his soul over to the demons of academia. Oh, this also makes me miss school SO much. Tonight, I actually felt envy when I read his paper because I want to be writing them too. Even though those going through this right now probably want to slap me (and probably Dickens, as well!)

In a week I will have entered my second month of being "gainfully employed!" I am still settling in at work but I am quickly becoming familiar and comfortable there, and I think it will bring lots of good things.

In a week I will have watched almost the entire first and second seasons of "Desperate Housewives," living on my DVR at the moment. When one's boyfriend is in grad school, and one doesn't have homework of one's self, and one has developed a DH addiction while UNemployed, one begins watching DH at random moments! Now I have gotten to the point where Bree finally finds out that it was George who killed her trifling husband, Rex! And Gaby is upset that her husband has found religion instead of spending lots of money on her after his return from jail! Escandalo! I think another reason I like DH so much is that the show reminds me of my mom, because we used to always watch it together on Sunday nights last year when I lived at home.

Oh what, oh what, will a week bring? No drama, vote for Obama!! ;)

Things that make me happy

I feel particularly jolly today. Perhaps it is because my morning started out by waking up next to my best friend (awe!); or perhaps it is because I have decided that I need to be positive and optimistic about life in general. Whatever the cause, today I was struck at nearly every turn by things that made me happy, and I'd like to share them.

1. I walked out of my apartment today, turned the corner, and arrived at the Copy Factory from which I sent a fax out. I love living close by to necessary things, and I love that I have small private business options, instead of having to go to conglomerates like FedEx Kinkos which basically suck you dry. Case in point: for the same project that FedEx Kinkos would have charged me around 200 bucks, the Copy Center charged me $16!!!

2. My blue suede shoes. They are adorable, and comfortable, and blue! I wore them to my interview at FSI today, and I think they definitely helped me feel confident, vibrant, and prepared to handle anything. Don't think a pair of blue suede shoes can accomplish this? You clearly have never stepped into a pair of blue suede Mary Janes with a flower on the side!

3. Sugarland. I L-O-V-E Sugarland. No, this does not refer to a candy store, but rather to my new favorite band! I have been listening to their music for about a year now without knowing who they are. First, I heard "Stay," a lovely acoustic ballad about loving a married man who inevitably never does leave his wife, and the hard realization that it's better to move on than to be a door mat. I used to bump this LOUD on my drives home from Honnold at 2 in the morning. Then, I heard "Settlin'," the should-be-theme-song for anyone who's ever woken up one day and thought, "What am I doing with my life, wasting it away in this dead-end relationship?" The song captures that moment of clarity when you realize that it's better to be alone that be waiting on Mr. Wrong to mystifyingly turn into Mr. Right. Then, I heard "Everyday America," a song that misleadingly gets you to bop your head and stomp your foot before you realize that you're singing along to a song pointing out that everyday Americans are often barely getting by, but that somehow they push on and make the best of life. Then, I heard "Baby Girl," the sweetest song ever! Basically it's about a young girl struggling to make it as a singer, asking her parents to send her some money so she can get by; luck is hers, and she becomes a big star, and it's her turn now to send money to her parents, to whom she writes,

"Dear Mom and Dad,
I'll send money. I'm so rich that It ain't funny.
Well it oughtta be more then enough to get you through.
Please don't worry cause I'm alright,
I'm stayin here at the Ritz tonight,
Whatta ya know we made our dreams come true!
And there are fancy cars and diamond rings,
But you know that they don't mean a thing,
Well they all add up to nothin compared to you,
Well, remember me in ribbons and curls...
I still love you more than anything in the world
Love,
Your Baby Girl"

Then, I heard... well the list goes on and on. But the point is, I had been singing along to these great songs without ever really knowing anything about the band playing them. Then, M and I watched them on TV, and it was love! This is their website, where it clearly says that they will NOT be playing any time soon in California! Tragedy! Anyhoo, the duo is composed of Jennifer Nettles, who is all teeth and perkiness and smiles, a prettier version of Janis Joplin (and with a cleaner voice) who seems to cute to be country!, and Kristian Bush, who plays a mad guitar and likes fedoras!

4. My DNC shirt. Today I wore the pink "Democratic - Denver Democratic National Convention 2008" shirt that I got in the Denver airport on the way back from Nebraska, and it sparked a nice conversation with the nice man from the Copy Factory! It feels a little like cheating wearing it, because I wasn't at the convention, but I was technically in Denver during the DNC! Anyhoo, the shirt makes me happy for the same reason that people wear Senior Class shirts, or team jerseys - it makes me feel happy to be part of a group, part of an identity with a common interest and a common goal. Plus, it's pink, and pink always makes the day brighter!

5. My upcoming drive to LA. I haven't been to LA in a while, and I really hope to see some of my friends this weekend, while my lovah is at the debauchery that is a bachelor party :)
5a. In addition to seeing some fabulous people while I'm in LA, I'm looking forward to the drive itself, as it will offer the excellent chance to continue listening to Anne Rice's "Blackwood Farm" on CD. It's been too long since we spent any time with Taaaarquuuiiin Blaaackwoood, and I have to know what happens! The book-on-CD is 18 CDs long!!! We are barely on CD 9, I think, so we have a long way to go, but the story is getting good!

6. Costco. How great is Costco? I bought a 36-pack of Diet Pepsi today for the same price as 2 6-packs at Safeway. The only drawback is I can never really make up my mind what else to buy besides soda, bread, and non-perishables, because I fear that the mass quantities will inevitably go bad before we have the chance to eat them! I mean, really, who needs that much cheese?!?!

7. "Scrubs." M and I were pulling "Scrubs" marathons for the past couple of weeks, but we have reached an impasse and need to wait for the next CDs to come. This show is briliant in so many ways. Not only is my second ex-husband, Zach Braff, at his best in this show (or is his best in "Garden State"? Hmm.. It sure as heck wasn't in "Last Kiss," the evil movie from hell! But I digress...), but the writing is fantastic! I didn't think it was possible for a comedy to successfully and sensitively tackle death, or for a show about doctors to make you relate to nearly every character, but somehow, "Scrubs" does. We have temporarily replaced "Scrubs" with "The Office" and it just isn't the same. Sure, "The Office" is funny, but it's no "Scrubs"!

8. Colder weather. I love wearing sweaters, coats, scarves, floppy hats, socks, and my boots with the fur! Fall is beginning to peek through, with a cold breeze every now and then reminding us that the seasons are a-turning, and my new down jacket from Costco is already getting some wear! I feel cozy and comfy in chilly weather, and I only wish it could get only a tiny bit colder, instead of the inevitable COLD that I know I will have to face living in NorCal. I'm trying to hold on to memories of Honnold at 2 am (hmm I see a theme now!) in December, and think, "I can do this, I can do this!" Let me tell you, it is COLD in Claremont in December at 2 am, and after 10 hours of Martha Gellhorn paper-writing, I would emerge from Honnold in scarf, beanie, gloves, and coat, and would drive home to Upland trying not to touch the steering wheel with my bare hands because it was so cold, but also unable to drive wearing gloves because they would slip on the wheel when I turned corners. Oh, joys of grad school!

9. Webcams! I can see my parents every day with the magic that is the webcam! Makes the world much smaller, and lets me show my parents my pretty blue shoes!

10. My boyfriend. Sorry, ladies, but he's taken, and he's the best, so eat your hearts out!

This is from way back when! Winter of 2005, in Big Bear.