how good it can be

Like a dream

2010-07-12T22:58:00.001-07:00

It's an ad for glasses, but really I'm coveting the gorgeous dresses Shirley Manson gets to wear. And I'm pretty sure I want this song to be my own personal soundtrack. Love!

Can someone teach me to do this?

2010-05-24T17:49:00.000-07:00

I just adore little videos that make me smile and feel all girly inside. This is one of those.

Frankie & Johnny from Isobel Knowles on Vimeo.

Today

2010-05-09T22:28:00.000-07:00

Today I woke up and decided I was going to be productive. By the end of the day, I learned I am not very good at being productive. First, I slept in late. I justified my 11 hour slumber by thinking, "Wow, I must've been really tired. I obviously needed some sleep." Genius. Next, I decided I ought to celebrate Mother's Day (because it has sooo much to do with me) by having breakfast in bed. A breakfast that consisted of a mug of Trader Joes new Joe Joes Ice Cream. Mid-way through "breakfast," I got a text from Jessica asking if I wanted to grab brunch. To avoid confusion, brunch is a term used by my friends and I for a mid-day meal, often consisting of coffee and breakfast items. Sometimes bloody marys or mimosas as well. It is NOT an expensive all-you-can-eat buffet. Of course I agreed, so Jessica and I headed to Heirloom. Luckily, the mother's day crowd had either risen much earlier than us, or were chased away by the clouds. Either way, we breezed in for coffee, a sandwich (as we had missed breakfast by an hour), and conversation. Notice at this point in the day, nothing of any substance had been accomplished. It was 2:00.

After returning home, Jessica asked me to upload some songs onto her ipod, of which I readily agreed. Finally, at this point, I can say I achieved something. And by I, I mean Jessica did my dishes in exchange for an ipod mix. With the dishes sparkling, Jessica left. At this point my dreams of cleaning my entire house seemed impossible. The fact that I am easily distracted does not help my lofty "clean my whole house" goals. So, while my house is not white glove clean, I did make some steps in the right direction: washed and folded laundry (including sheets and towels), made bed, washed couch and chair slip covers, vacuumed living room and hall (including use of attachment for corners and cobwebs), painted toenails (counts right?), conversation with friend regarding baby shower we're planning, put give-away clothes in car, watered plants, tidied living room, made dinner. Oh, and I watched 3 episodes of Project Runway. Really, looking at the list, I did okay. Maybe I didn't purge my apartment of unnecessary items, as was my original goal, but maybe chipping away at things little by little is more my style.

Oh, and yes, I did call my mom and wish her a happy Mother's Day. But that could never be considered a chore. On that note, I did make a rather delicious, easy, inexpensive meal from items in my pantry. Here's the recipe just in case you like things like that.

Lentil Stew with Sausage

1 T Olive oil

2 onions, chopped (about 2 cups)

3 cloves garlic, minced

4 carrots, coarsely chopped or sliced (about 1 1/2 cups)

1 lb Smoked Sausage, sliced

1 lb lentils, rinsed and drained

4 cups chicken or vegetable broth

1 tsp dried sage

1 tsp dried thyme

1/4 tsp ground black pepper

1 tsp salt or to taste

1 lb fresh kale or spinach, stems trimmed, leaves chopped (about 8 cups)

In a 6-8 quart pot or Dutch oven, heat oil over med-high heat. Saute onions, garlic and carrots until soft, about 10 minutes. Add sausage lentils, broth, sage, thyme, pepper and salt. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, until lentils are barely tender, about 20 minutes. Stir in kale or spinach. Bring to a boil, cover, and simmer for 10 minutes or until lentils are tender. Ladle into soup bowls.

Makes 8 servings

My notes: I halved the recipe. I didn't have carrots or kale/spinach, so I added some frozen peas at the same time as the sausage. I also added extra broth, but I think this might have been necessary because of the peas. I used fresh thyme instead of dry since I had some. The sausage I used was Trader Joes Smoked Andouille Chicken Sausage, which was perfect. It's a thick, chili-like consistency when it's all cooked up. I think it would be yummy with some bacon in it. And celery. I also for a moment thought to Greek-ify it by adding kalamata olives and feta. I'll let you know if I try any of these variations.

Quite possibly my new favorite thing ever

2010-02-13T20:54:00.000-08:00

I ran across this on someone else's blog and had to share it on mine. It's like five minutes of pure bliss for me: beautiful clothes, cotton candy indie pop, red lipstick, Frenchy hair, color, Jason Schwartzman and Kirsten Dunst, fun. I'm pretty sure you'll agree.

I am ok

2009-12-08T09:17:00.000-08:00

Disappointment stifles all.

I try to push it away,

But all my strength is not enough.

Friends lend a hand,

But it stands firm,

Steadfastly cemented in place,

And the resistance

Seems to make it stronger.

There was so much hope:

Mounds and mounds

Piled high.

I let it cover me

'Til I could see nothing else.

But all has been devoured

By the greedy monster of absence.

How can nothing take so much?

It gets fat off sleep, joy, motivation

And I am left with an emptiness

I want desperately to fill.

Why do I always run with arms

wide open,

When I should tip toe cautiously--

wary of the land mines hidden

below the surface,

Ready to destroy me.

Holiday Gift Guide

2009-12-03T21:53:00.000-08:00

A little something I put together for fun. Most are under $30!

The Pencil Factory Newsprint, $10
Promotional newsprint poster zine by the illustrators and designers in The Pencil Factory
http://thepencilfactory.bigcartel.com/product/15-uses-for-newsprint

Bananagrams game, $15.50
Sorta Scrabble crossed with Boggle. Shout out to Jessie Rupert.
http://www.blueribbongeneralstore.net/2008-p-Games.html

Pride and Prejudice with Ruben Toledo, $16
Jane Austen plus couture fashion illustrator equals girly perfection.
http://fredflare.com/customer/product.php?productid=5268&style=N/A

Foodie Fight game, $19.95
All the fun, none of the mess.
http://fredflare.com/customer/product.php?productid=3232&style=N/A

Studded Blackhearts Belt, $14
Add a little edge to an outfit.
http://fredflare.com/customer/product.php?productid=5348&style=MD/LG

Fuji Instax Instant Camera, $130

The Polariod of 2010.
http://www.urbanoutfitters.com:80/urban/catalog/productdetail.jsp?itemdescription=true&itemCount=10&startValue=11&selectedProductColor

=&sortby=&id=17140518&parentid=A_COLL_TOPRATED&sortProperties=

+subCategoryPosition,&navCount=60&navAction=poppushpush&color=&pushId=

A_COLL_TOPRATED&popId=APARTMENT_WHATSNEW&prepushId=

Jamie’s Food Revolution Cookbook, $26.25
I fell in love with this cookbook while in England this summer. Love Jamie for his delicious, simple, straight-forward approach to cooking.
http://www.amazon.com/Jamies-Food-Revolution-Rediscover-Affordable/dp/1401323596/ref=wl_it_dp_o?ie=UTF8&coliid=I21TUHSEU4LTRJ&colid=2AXJR49FOSHS3

The Twilight Saga: New Moon Soundtrack, $9.99
Whether you’re obsessed (Team Edward! Team Jacob!) or just wish it would come to an end already, you will be impressed by this collection of music. Bon Iver, Anya Marina, Death Cab for Cutie. Like a really good mix CD. Every song’s a winner.
http://www.amazon.com/Twilight-Saga-New-Moon-Soundtrack/dp/B0029O08WA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1259789406&sr=8-1

Personal Pocket Calendar, $25
Staying organized and beautiful.
http://www.jcrew.com/AST/DynamicAsst/GiftGuide2009/forher/25under/PRDOVR~20918/20918.jsp

Crushed Glitter Magic Wallet, $16.50
Because sometimes you need a little glamour in your pocket.
http://www.jcrew.com/AST/DynamicAsst/GiftGuide2009/forher/25under/PRDOVR~20986/20986.jsp

Sprigs Banjees Wrist Wallet, $14.95-$17.95
Solves my “what to do with my keys during my run” problem. Am also considering wearing it as a cuff next time I go out dancing.
http://www.sprigsville.com/banjees/index.html

Bean’s Moonbeam Clock, $39.50
The sound of a buzzing alarm makes me cringe. Being awoken by a light sounds wonderful. And the cute retro design is fantastic as well.
http://www.llbean.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/CategoryDisplay?catalog_id=PN&storeId=1&langId=-1&catalogId=1&categoryId=33149&ddkey=http:LLBSearchDispatch

Mr. Beer Deluxe Edition Home Brew Kit, $29.95
What guy (or girl!) wouldn’t love to a) make his own beer, and b) drink it!
http://www.mrbeer.com/category-exec/category_id/2

Sephora by OPI Nail Colour Gift Set, $18
Tight budget means no extra cash for manicures and pedicures. Not a problem with these three perfect colors in a formula that really stands up.
http://www.sephora.com/browse/product.jhtml?id=P249357&categoryId=C19281

Main Street Market Tote Bag in Cream Stripe, $35
Yes, it’s a man-purse, but why should girls have all the fun?! Plus, if he doesn’t like it, you can steal it. It’s a win-win, really.
http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=32886190

Happy shopping!

Hold on tight cause you might fall

2009-11-23T22:41:00.000-08:00

She felt so hopeful.
This one was different.
This one was easy from hello.
But as each minute passed,
the optimism dissipates
like steam on a mirror
once the door opens.
And try as she might
she couldn't quite shake him.
The thin thread of hope
she clings to with both hands,
fists clenched as though ready for battle.
But she didn't want a fight
or a struggle.
She wanted the ease and simplicity
of the click, the knowing.
To compare the then with the now
would be quite a distance to cover:
From a no-escape, beaming smile
To a pit of despair.
Once again realizing,
she falls too fast.

What's On Your Sleeve?

2009-11-09T21:37:00.000-08:00

Nonchalance is not in my repertoire.
I wish it were.
Oh! To be flippant and free
from the weight of opinions
and desires,
To not be bogged down
By the whys and what ifs
and maybes.
But me,
I wear not just my heart
on my sleeve,
but my head, my mouth, my skin,
as well.
And it's impossible not to care
When left exposed like that.
I want to cut myself open,
Tuck them back inside
And sew it all back up.
But the crooked stitches would show:
The flaws left out
for visual fodder.
How do you do it?
Or am I just blind
To the seams and organs?

okay

2009-09-23T09:31:00.001-07:00

sometimes okay should be enough
happiness should be found in the simple
the melody of a song
a beautiful family
a conversation with an old friend.
but at times
life is too much
and knowing it's good
doesn't make it so.
thankfulness is overshadowed
by disappointment
the uphill never peaks.
a longing for
the joy of the downhill run,
carefree and easy.
but feet drag and breath is heavy
and past and future joy
cannot sustain the present.

three

2009-07-17T17:06:00.000-07:00

1
He has seen more than I
His height betrays his age
He has watched from his steady home
The ever changing parade of fashions
On this outdoor runway.
He has seen the timid, soft-feathered duckling
become the sleek, assertive duck.
He watched as lovers kissed
and others fought, spouting words of hate.
He has taken part in picnics
and observed teenagers tasting their first drink,
puffing their first cigarette.
Oh, the stories he could tell.
But no one will ever hear.
His is a life of silence,
A life of beauty and strength,
But quiet.
The only sound,
The sigh of a breeze
passing through his leaves.

2
Perfection exists:
in a cold glass of Pimms,
a view of the river,
the dome of St. Pauls.
Making you feel
a little closer to heaven;
the eternal joy of a life enjoyed.
Can I sit here forever
in this moment of bliss,
where I taste the divine?
It blows over me
like a welcome breeze
on a scorching day.

3
Just because I should know better
doesn't mean I do.
I grow tired of the constant battle
between my head and my heart.
I want to dream big
but an exposed heart
is often left raw.
But one sheletered,
is that better?
The possibility of pain is small,
but the chance of joy even smaller.
Shall I take the gamble,
toss the dice,
lay my cards on the table,
or maintain my poker face?
Cause this is an all or nothing situation.
Not sure if I can give it all,
not willing to end up with nothing.

A Park in London on the 4th of July

2009-07-04T15:40:00.000-07:00

Ah, the irony. I am in England on the day we Americans celebrate our independence from England. But it was a beautiful day and I spent it in a park with friends. Started at the best farmer's market ever, Broadway Market in East London. Mushroom and cheese sandwich, Vietnamese coffee, and salted caramel Violet cupcake (apparently Stella McCartney, Keira Knightley, and Jamie Oliver are fans). Seriously delicious. Then Mark brought Cara and I red wine. The Europeans get it right here. Good food, wine, and friends, outside on a gorgeous day. There was one 4th of July party going on: American flag hanging, BBQ, "American" attire (consisting of cowboy hats and boots and Red Sox and Mets Tshirts). And they were British. Funny. And some of my musings from the day:

Burst of green overhead
A mosaic of blankets laid every which way
Clouds of gray smoke pouring from BBQs
Tall cans of cold beer
A melting pot of people
Celebrating independence?
Probably not
Far too many British accents for that.
But perhaps freedom.
Freedom from clouds and rain
From work and everyday mundane
A celebration of sun and Saturday and summer
So happy fourth of July
from this American girl
sitting on a London plot of land.

***

Are people more in love in the summer
or does the warmth and sun
force couples out of hiding?
Winter is all wine and fireplaces and
cuddling under old quilts.
In the winter, love is private.
But once the golden rays of sun
streak the brilliant blue skies
People are awakened
from their lovers' hibernation.
Summer, that time of little clothing,
melting ice creams,
the carefree "school's out" feeling,
sweat dripping down the body's covered valleys,
the seductive pull of the ocean, the pool.
And instead of a cuddle under a quilt,
a cuddle on a quilt
surrounded by trees
beckoning lovers to come
lay among them.

I Am Sad

2009-06-30T15:58:00.000-07:00

Why, you may ask? How is this possible? I am in the middle of a lovely holiday, seeing breath-taking sights, drinking pints, not a care in the world. But unfortunately, tragedy struck on my last night in Liverpool. I was sitting at the Cavern Club, former musical venue of the Beatles. I went to take a picture of something I found fascinating. And it just didn’t work. The instructions on screen said “Turn camera off then on again.” I followed them, and it still didn’t work. Since that night, I’ve tried everything. Fully charged battery. Check. Change the memory card. Check. Download pictures. Check. Give it a bit of a rest and try again. Check. All efforts were unsuccessful. And now, my one-year old camera is dead, and I have five weeks ahead of me, and one behind, photographically undocumented. It really is a tragedy.

So, since I have no photos to share, I will give “word images” of some highlights.

2:30 am. Hostel hallway in Liverpool. Tousled hair, squinty eyes, pajamas, wallet in hand, asking hostel worker if we have to evacuate due to the fire alarm.

Teeny, tiny, narrow country English, lake-side road. Anna squeezing our car between a stone wall and a tractor. Me gnawing my nails and praying we fit through.

Me seated on a grassy hillside staring out at a postcard-perfect lake surrounded by lush green hills, sheep chewing their green grassy dinner nearby.

A sunny day in Glasgow. Corner coffee shop. Me standing, cell phone in hand, arms straight and stiff at side, uncomfortable look on my face. Strange Scottish man, curly longish hair, hugging me. (Side note: not hot, not rich, not my age, not a missed opportunity. My quote as he hugged me “Oh, ok then.” His reply: “If the sun doesn’t come out today, my day will still be bright because of your smile.” Seriously? Seriously.)

Seated in a booth at Kama Sutra Indian restauarant (Truly. The menu cover had a romantic black and white photo of a couple in an intimate embrace) in Glasgow with Anna and Gerry. Three starters on our table; me taking my first bite of haggis, Indian style. (Scary, but surprisingly tasty. If you don’t know what it is, don’t google it cause you’ll think I’m gross. Although, as Anna said, anything fried and dipped in sauce would taste good.)

Outdoor seating on pedestrian only Rose Street in Edinburgh. A small salad, a glass of white wine, crusty white bread, and a heaping bowl of brothy mussels. Squinting in the bright sun. Tide pen in hand trying to “erase” the soupy mussel mess I got on my white T-shirt.

Seated in an old Edinburgh square surrounded by stone buildings and cobblestone streets. Half pint in hand. Dusk. Male and female actors telling the stories of Scottish literary figures.

Really really hope I can get my camera fixed.

Tomorrow, big tour around day in Edinburgh. xx

Road Bumps

2009-06-24T14:49:00.000-07:00

So far, so good. It's been a busy, fun, tiring, exhilirating, relaxing, tasty, frustrating few days. Started off with a delayed plane and a center seat. I was able to change to an aisle (!) and when I boarded the plane, no one was seated next to me on the window(!!). I had two seats, an aisle, and a window all to myself. Awesome. And a word of advice: if you are on a Virgin flight and they ask you your meal choice, don't waiver between chicken or pasta; instead, ask which includes the rich, chocolatey, fudgy brownie. Trust me, you will thank me later.

After a well-slept flight (thanks to Ambien and Lisa), I rushed off the plane. I got a bit of the 9th degree at customs (How are you paying for your trip? Umm...my salary?, Schools in the US are on summer holidays? What...yes. Why does customs always make me nervous?). Eventually, I made it through, got my luggage, and met Anna. Because of my delayed plane, we rushed to the bus station and stepped on the bus literally a minute before he closed the door and drove off! Phew!

Made it to Bath. Had a lovely meal at a lovely restaurant. Except I got fish. It was a very bony fish. Needless to say, eating it was a bit of a task. Next day, Anna and I went on a FREE 2 hour tour. Informative, fun, great overview of Bath. Ate at Jamie's Italian. Anyone who knows me knows who Jamie is. They had carbonara on the menu. Pff...I make that! Did eat the best antipasto plate ever-mozzarella, mortadella, salami, olives. And truffle pasta. I swear, Jamie can do no wrong. The early evening was spent soaking in the rooftop baths, and the underground baths, and sweating in the steam rooms. However, there were these 18 year olds making out the whole time. I saw the boys tongue twice. And I was trying hard to avoid seeing them. Gross. Ended the day with pints and crisps at The Pig and Fiddle, outdoor at picnic tables. If I lived in Bath, this would be my spot. Truly ended the day with chips with cheese from a "taco truck" style auto (except they don't serve tacos, mainly just burgers). Anna and I like to call out "-Insert current city of residence- Kogi" every time we see one.

Ran around Bath the next morning. Most of today was spent in the car. Anna drove, and she has been a quick learner. I clap every time we make it through a round about. However, our two hour trip took about five. Two of those extra hours were spent driving around Oxford. Oxford loves bikes. Oxford likes pedestrians. Oxford hates cars. HATES. Streets are not labeled. And even if they were, they change names after one or two blocks. If you are lucky, they continue beyond one block. Because streets in Oxford like to dead end or close to only pedestrians or bikes. I thought finding a hotel in the city centre was a good idea. It is now we're here. Not so much getting here. Oxford will punish you for having a car. Not only in the form of confusing streets, but financially as well. It cost 22 pounds to park our car somewhat near our hotel. Thank you Oxford. I must say, though, Anna is a star. She has the best attitude ever. I get stressed and try to stay calm, but usually fail miserably. Anna is a rock. A positive rock.

Our hotel is adorable, our room like a little cottage. We saw the "quarter boys" that ding the bell every fifteen minutes on a clock tower. We saw the place where Bloody Mary burned martyrs at the stake. We drank and ate at The Eagle and Child where C.S. Lewis and Tolkien used to hang. We walked and then negated any good that did by eating tasty, creamy homemade ice cream (I told Anna, only eat ice cream from places with a line...this line went out the door). And the sunset was beautiful.

Sorry this reads a bit like a list. I promise once I get to London my prose will be more polished. Or maybe as my trip goes on I'll be more concise. Loads of love to all.

only time will tell

2009-04-01T09:17:00.000-07:00

So I stumbled across this comic online at xkcd.com. There's some great stuff on the site if you have a few minutes to kill, but this one stuck out to me as super appropriate to the crazy world of dating and relationships.

the bar series

2009-02-27T09:42:00.001-08:00

I
He could fly away from here:
Away from the endless drinks,
The pumping bass,
The incessant small talk.
He could be happy somewhere else.
Peaceful.
But night after night
He returns.
And hopes what?
That here,
Amidst the noise and hectic chaos,
He'll find his peace?
Oh no.
Not here.
This is a false promise
Full of empty desire
And hollow hope.
No.
He will construct his wings and take flight.
He will find his inspiration
Among the clouds and stars,
Where dreams are sent.

II
She could listen to the words sung
Of love and heartbreak
And she'd try and remove herself,
Detach herself from reality.
But the resonation was too true.
And in the middle of the room,
Packed with strangers, and a few she knew,
She wondered if she would stand
Alone forever,
Her only support
The sticky banister,
Her only fill,
The remnants of an Indian dinner.
She wondered if she could be
Happy in this.
If this could be enough.

The Study of Dating

2009-02-18T09:20:00.000-08:00

Who's your Daddy?
http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/personal/02/11/lw.programmed.to.marry.parents/index.html?eref=rss_topstories

and

Money vs. Man?
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/12/fashion/12dating.html?_r=1

Happy Reading!

A Good Holiday For Music

2009-02-12T11:32:00.000-08:00

Ah, St. Valentine's Day. What I like about it: chocolate, flowers, love, valentines, cinnamon candy hearts, champagne. What I don't like about it: crowds, expensive prix fixe dinners, feeling more single than usual. Either way, here is my homage to the day of love. My Valentine's playlist: Love, Loss, and Longing. (A little something for everyone.)

LOVE LOSS LONGING

She’s Mine – Brett Dennen
Brand New Start – Little Joy
My Love (Siik Let Go Remix) – Justin Timberlake
Crack the Shutters - Snow Patrol
Everyday – Vetiver
Sleepy Tigers – Her Space Holiday
Feel.Love.Thinking.Of – Faunts

Let’s Get Lost ~ Elliott Smith
I Tried ~ Matt Costa
White Horse ~ Taylor Swift
Try Again ~ Keane
Tiny Vessels ~ Death Cab for Cutie
A Falling Through - Ray La Montagne
You’re A Cad - The Bird and the Bee

Littlest Things ~ Lily Allen
My Stupid Mouth ~ John Mayer
Dropped – Phantom Planet
Extra Special Guy - Gomez
Tired of Being Alone – Al Green
I Don’t Know – Lisa Hannigan

You can listen to most of the songs at this link http://www.playlist.com/playlist/15078667787

There are 3 songs missing (not available on playlist.com): from the LOVE section Feel.Love.Thinking.Of by Faunts, from the LOSS section You're A Cad by The Bird and the Bee, and from the LONGING section Extra Special Guy by Gomez.

Love to all! xxx

I am not invinsible

2009-02-03T13:43:00.000-08:00

Funny how some things sort of catch you off guard. You're going along, living your life, and--kerplunk--down drops some obstacle you never expected to appear. Usually, for me, it seems to be some weird health problem that usually only happens to old people: pleurisy, fractured ribs, bronchial infections. The latest one, though, caught me a bit off guard. In late December, this weird rash appeared on my chest, face, and back. It wasn't going away, so I decided to take a trip to my dermatologist. She diagnosed me with pityriasis rosea. It is rare to appear on your face, but this is me, so...While there, I asked her to check out a mole on my right calf. She said it looked fine, but would remove it as a precaution. In. Out. Done. Five days later I got a phone call from my dermatologist telling me the mole was melanoma. I had a little bit of cancer.

Yesterday I went back to remove some of the additional area around where the mole had been. I got a little nervous lying on the paper covered table. A few shots, cuts, stitches, and bandages later, I walked out of the office. I was feeling fine last night. It was uncomfortable, but not too painful. I could walk pretty normally. This morning I woke up and climbed out of bed. My leg hurt pretty bad. So now I am stuck hobbling around. It's kind of tough to teach. My students are calling me Miss Wobbly and like to imitate my limp. They all wanted to hear the story, see the wound. I go back in two weeks to get the stitches removed.

I am not really scared. The survival rate is over 95%. My dermatologist said I caught it really early. But it's weird how something like this can make your realize that you are indeed human. A little part of me always thinks, I take care of myself, eat well, exercise, wear sunscreen, don't smoke, I should be fine. But even trying my best, there are some things that just happen. You just gotta climb over that little bump in the road, and keep moving forward.

In My Head

2009-01-29T15:01:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I like to consider different fantasy scenarios in my head. For example, I used to read through my InStyle Magazine and imagine what I would say if they interviewed me to find out what was in my makeup bag. Why InStyle hasn't called me up to ask is beyond me (what? they only want to interview celebrities for that feature?). A couple months ago, while driving with my sisters a music topic came up: if you could be any musical performer alive today, who would you be? Now, this was a bit of a struggle for me. My musical taste is eclectic: from indie rock, to electronica, and hip hop to the poppiest of pop (see post on Taylor Swift). I'm also very much a girly girl. I have no desire to prance around in jeweled lingerie like Britney (everyone heaves a sigh of relief), but I don't want to be a complete hipster, thrift-store wearing rocker chick either. So I threw out Kylie Minogue as my choice: a little older, a little classier, but still very much a popstar. My younger sister, Patty, wasn't convinced. And to be honest neither was I. This morning, while driving to work, I discovered the answer to this question. And it is the right one, I just didn't know it at the time. My choice: Inara George from The Bird and the Bee. Rolling Stone describes the music as, "Greg Kurstin (`bee') and Inara George (`bird') mak[ing] syncopated danceable pop that sounds like audible sunshine." Seriously. You can read this description and know this is the music I would be making if I could. That said, go buy this album now. Or let me know and I'll burn you a copy. It sounds as if I took all my favorite albums and stirred them together into a magical musical soup. It is music to dance to, clean to, drive to, bathe to, cook to. I honestly cannot think of anything I would not want to do without these wonderful little songs drifting through the air.

I'm A Night Owl

2009-01-09T14:43:00.000-08:00

Mornings aren't really my thing. Most days, my reluctance to pull myself from my cozy bed means I'm left dashing out the door for work, wearing an ugly outfit, my hair in a ponytail, and a packet of instant oatmeal in my purse (to be consumed during first period) . This morning I was able to get my act together a bit more. I had to, really. It was my friend-coworker's birthday and it was my job to bring "birthday Starbucks" for everyone. After ordering my coffees, I stood chatting with the barista as he made my four drinks. Another customer came up and stood near me. "Whatcha got there?" he asks, eyeing my crate of beverages. "Oh. I bunch of stuff. It's my coworkers birthday, so I'm bringing coffee," I babble on. He proceeds to inquire about what I do and where I work. Eventually he gets to the key question: "So where you going for happy hour tonight?" At this point I realize, oh(!), he's not just being friendly, he's hitting on me. At a Starbucks. At 7:00 in the morning. I tell him we are going to Irvine to Dave and Busters (phew...all the way in Orange County!) But he wasn't done. "So if I come to Irvine tonight can I buy you a drink?" After my uncomfortable laugh, I answer something like, "Uh, sure. Can't turn down a free drink." Luckily, my order was complete at this point. I grabbed my drinks and headed out. "I'm Carlos," he said, as I smiled goodbye and walked away.

Which leads me to ask, is there such a thing as being hit on too early in the morning? I think yes. Especially before I've had my coffee.

Stuck in the Middle

2009-01-06T09:08:00.001-08:00

I had a realization last night that my job as a middle school teacher may be rubbing off on me. Here's why. A list of a few of my current favorite things.

1) I am currently reading through the Twilight series. I am about to begin the final book, Breaking Dawn. I saw the movie. I <3 Edward Cullen.

2) I am slightly obsessed with Taylor Swift's album. I did not buy it. It was given to me. But I cannot stop listening to it.

3) My favorite TV shows include Gossip Girl and The Hills.

I am embarrassed and ashamed. I guess it's a good thing I'm not an elementary school teacher. Then I'd be crazy for the Jonas Brothers.

love it

2008-12-03T10:29:00.000-08:00

If there's one thing I love, love, love, it's music. I could spend hours wandering the aisles of CDs at Borders. I write down names of songs and bands I hear and like in my little notebook. Attending concerts is high on my list of favorite things to do. It is for this reason that I love the Special MP3 Deals on Amazon.com. Right now they have 50 albums for $5 each, including new Coldplay, Death Cab, Beck, and many, many more. The Deal of the Day is even better. Currently it's T.I.'s new album (ehh), but I got new Keane for $1.99 and the new Snow Patrol for $2.99. That means for less than my Gingerbread (sorry...Gingersnap) latte at Starbucks, I can have hours of listening enjoyment. For once, Apple has been trumped.

Change is Coming?

2008-11-05T09:24:00.000-08:00

Tuesday night was a memorable one, one of those "this is what life's all about" evenings. I am so thrilled that Obama is going to be our new President. I am hopeful that he can bring change and re-energize our country. It so needs a boost. Between war, environment, and economic crisis, we need a leader who has a fresh vision, charisma, and intelligence. I think Obama is that individual. Add to this the monumental, history-making fact that Obama will be our first African-American President! Indeed, change isn't coming...it's already here!

So Tuesday night, after devouring fish tacos with my girls, we headed to Vinoteca for a drink. Absent was the usual chatter of people talking as they sipped their Cabs and Pinots. Instead, we all sat staring at the television, listening intently to our future President. I got chills. I was filled with hope. I made a new friend who is going to mail me an audio copy of Dreams of My Father. She was one of those women with an amazing life story who are so engrossing and interesting to talk to. I talked politics with my girls. I look forward to one day telling my children (if I have them, otherwise my nieces and nephews...if I have them) about where I was and what my night was like the night Obama was elected.

missed opportunity

2006-10-02T17:58:00.000-07:00

Sometimes life is full of opportunity. While Jessie and Jo headed out of town to test their endurance and strength in a triathlon, Cara and I packed our overnight bags and took the opportunity to partake in a couple days of fun and relaxation in Santa Monica. To say the weekend was perfect would be an understatement. One thing that Cara and I share is an appreciation for good food. Burgers, beer, and sweet potato fries at Father’s Office, Italian coffee and pastries at Caffe Luxxe, wine and dessert at Bodega, paninis on Main. We also spent the weekend coveting items in various retail locations: dresses in Anthropolgie, shoes in Steve Madden, coats in Club Monaco, everything in Zara. And what perfect weekend would be complete without the perfect movie? The Science of Sleep was everything it should be: creative, beautiful, well-acted, funny, sad, introspective. And the company found in our favorite Santa Monica resident, Lisa K, was superb.

The story of the weekend, however, occured during our final minutes in Santa Monica. Cara and I had spent a few minutes sitting on the beach, enjoying the people, the sun, the waves, the little shells scattered in the sand. We wanted a picture. Usually asking someone to take a photo is not that big of a deal. However, the camera in our possession happened to be Cara’s vintage polaroid. A black, mammoth of a camera...a far cry from the tiny, compact, silver digital variety people are accustomed to today. We asked a lady on the beach, who snapped it before either of us was really ready. Soon it was time to return to the car. Our meter was going to expire.

As we headed up the beach toward the parking, Cara and I chatted about future weddings. Who knows how it came up, but Cara was sharing her idea of an old photo booth at the reception, and old polaroid cameras on the tables. As we approached the bike path we decided to take one final picture and looked around for someone to take it. I saw a man with a shaved head and aviator sunglasses walking towards us. I reached for the camera, and turned to wait for him to approach, but he had already arrived in our path. Cara grabbed the camera, held it out, and asked the man if he could take our picture. As soon as the tall, board short clad man opened his mouth Cara and I could not stop smiling. He had a British accent! Now anyone who knows me, knows I am a fan of the British. But Cara for one, puts me to shame in that category. Now, as if the accent weren’t enough, the good-looking guy starts exclaiming how great the camera is. He was thrilled and excited. As Cara and I stepped back, smiling from ear to ear, he snapped the picture. He handed the camera back to Cara and walked away.

As soon as he was a few steps away, I turned to Cara and said, “You need to give him your number. Get a pen, write your number on this polaroid, and give it to him.” Cara refused. I insisted. She was too embarrassed. I asked her what she had to lose. He was cute, British, loved her camera. And weren’t we just talking about polaroid cameras at her wedding? It felt like a sign. I had almost convinced Cara to go after him. Unfortunately, mystery-Brit happened to be the fastest walker in the history of the world. He was already a speck in the horizon. But I knew this was fate. I was determined for this man to have Cara’s number. So we got in my car and drove down every side street along the beach trying to find him. After we ended up on PCH, headed toward Malibu, I decided it was a lost cause. This fairy tale, unfortunately, does not have a happy ending.

One last part of our weekend. Driving home, Cara and I were giddy from too much fun. We went back in time to the days of childhood when tunnels meant wishes if you held your finger on a screw and held your breath. As we drove through the tunnels on the 110, holding our breaths, fingers pressed to the shiny metal (driving slowly in traffic no less), and wishing, I realized I had ruined my wish. Somehow, with the breath holding, the driving, the traffic, the tunnel, I’d forgotton the essential ingredient: the wish. I guess that makes a missed opportunity for me and Cara.

questions

2006-08-15T00:44:00.000-07:00

I have reached a point in life where I realize how many unanswered questions I have floating around in my head. It's odd how for so many years I just believed and accepted things. Not blindly, perhaps, but I never probed or challenged my views, or those held by others. I believed what sounded right, what made sense, but there was never really any depth involved. And then, less than a year ago, I was having a conversation with a friend as I walked on the beach. The conversation began as many single, 25 year old, female conversations begin: on the topic of guys. We talked about Christian individuals dating non-Christians, something I was (am?) against based largely on the fact that I'd been taught since a young age not to be "unequally yoked". This topic eventually evolved into a discussion of our core beliefs as Christians and why we believed what we did.

Since that day on the beach, I've felt as though a veil has been lifted from my eyes. Or perhaps the reality is that the veil has been added; things that once appeared so clear are foggy and gray. Now my mind is filled with questions, questions, questions. War, love, environment, marriage, family, heaven, hell, sin, death, dating. So many things I do not understand. Although these questions can be frustrating, I find it all rather exciting. I am so thankful to be able to ask questions and seek answers. I am so glad that I didn't go through my whole life believing something just because it's what I always heard. Now I can take ownership for what I think and believe. God created intelligent human beings, so shouldn't we be utilizing those God-given brains? I find myself reading the Bible, and other Christian writings, with interest, digging for truth. I listen intently to sermons at church in order to learn, grow, and challenge. I talk with my friends about what I believe, what I have believed, and what I should believe. I want to always be asking questions. I want to always be learning more about this world I live in, the people I interact with, the God I believe in. So tonight, I am thankful for questions and hopeful (and intentionally searching) for answers.

Moving

2006-06-24T19:16:00.000-07:00

As I reflect over my last school year, I must say I am quite pleased with how it all turned out. I feel like I really connected with my students and I am happy with the direction the curriculum is going. I enjoy my coworkers and, with my ipod, I don't usually mind the commute. I have been looking forward to a nice relaxing summer, but so far it's been anything but that. Right now I feel incredibly stressed. I'm moving. I was given less than a week's notice. I have a lot of stuff. I don't have enough boxes. Everyone is REALLY busy right now, so for the most party I'm left to fend for myself. The thing is, I'm not a good packer. I don't have that inherent ability to know what goes where. I don't have follow through. I begin packing the kitchen and end up in my closet with my clothes. I honestly feel so overwhelmed by the task in front of me. I spent the bulk of my day packing, taking breaks to read every now and then. I'm going to have to really buckle down tomorrow so I'm ready for moving day on Monday. To add to the horror of it all, I feel sick. Sore throat, cough, achy. Sick and moving. This was most certainly not what I was anticipating as I counted down my school days.

untitled

2006-05-09T18:36:00.000-07:00

So much to write, not enough time to write it in. I need to head off to Bible Study right now. It will be nice--coffee, pastry of some sort, prayer, friends, devotions. I am looking forward to it, really. I just wish I had an extra half hour BEFORE it started so that I can jot down a few things here first. Oh well.

Work is good. It's state testing time...two weeks where I feel really bad for the kids and hope and pray that I taught them everything they need to know to do well. I had an end of the year meeting with my principal today. It was nice. My students make me laugh.

Friends are good. I haven't seen as much of them as I'd like, but I guess I'll make it.

Marriage is good. I went to my friend's wedding in San Francisco this weekend. Sunny, blue day in Golden Gate Park. Turtles and ducks. It's nice to see the beginning of marriage. It gives me hope. Love is an amazing, incredible thing. Plus I got to stay in a gorgeous hotel.

God is good. His faithfulness amazes me everyday. Jesus brings a depth and passion to my life that I would sorely miss if he weren't in it.

Shopping is good. I went to H&M and bought cute stuff. I kamikaze shopped. It was sort of fun. I also got a new 12 inch nonstick, oven-safe skillet. It makes me happy to think of the possibilities.

Life is good.

i'm expecting

2006-04-24T21:12:00.000-07:00

I have a really difficult time with disappointment. If I am excited and anticipating something, and my expectations are not met, it tends to really bum me out. This is true of many things. Movies, books. It is tough when I am looking forward to an event or experience and it falls short of my expectations. The worst, though, is when people disappoint. Of course, I am to blame for this. I know that no one is perfect. It's not fair of me to expect people to be anything that they are not, or cannot be. So i'm working on this and dealing with it. And hopefully I will expect reality and not perfection.

time keeps on ticking (ticking)

2006-04-18T17:54:00.000-07:00

I actually have time right now. It's amazing. Incredible, really. I've been so busy for so long and now I have time to just be. Yesterday I went to spin class. Today I am at Swork checking emails and such. Free time is an amazing thing. But I feel this incredible tension between wanting to appreciate and enjoy the peace, and feeling like I ought to be doing something. So there's anxiousness in the calm.

Pretty soon I will be 26. I'm not sure how I'm going to celebrate. I kind of feel like sticking my fingers in my ears and "la la la-ing" the day away. It seems old. I should be writing or creating. Mothering or married. Why is there such pressure to grow up? I think I understand the story of Peter Pan better now then I did at 6. Why are we always so busy looking around the corner? I so want to appreciate what is right here in front of me. I want to grab the now and hold onto it. Squeeze every bit of life out of it. I want to enjoy being single and unattached. Sometimes it can be depressing or lonely, but it can also be exciting and surprising. I want, somehow to find a balance. Sometimes life can be messy. We hurt people. People hurt us. We care too much or not enough. But we can feel and we can love and we can experience. So maybe I should be excited about getting older. Refuse to be cynical or pessimistic. I will do my best.

a couple things i've been thinking about

2006-03-27T21:09:00.000-08:00

Number one. Boys. Relationships. Dating. I'm single and 25 years old, so obviously this is something discussed among my friends and I quite often. I just don't understand why it has to be so complicated. Why aren't people just honest with one another. If a guy is in a relationship, shouldn't he share that information? When I tell someone I'm going to call them, I actually call them! What makes a girl marriage material, but not dateable? Why are Christian guys so unable to initiate anything?

Which leads me to number two. I am quite sure that my earlier insecurities about myself are somewhat rooted in the fact that no guys ever asked me out. My confidence level was at about a zero. I think church boys have somehow been programmed to believe that asking a girl you don't know very well out is a bad idea. Dating leads to bad things. Instead the friend to relationship model is always presented. This is dumb. I think that if you like someone, if you are attracted, interested, whatever...ask them out. So I didn't date. So when guys started asking me out, I was shocked. I am still surprised when some attractive guys wants to go out with ME.

Number three. I am trying to figure out how I can make a career out of making mix CDs. If anyone has suggestions or knows of any job openings in this "field," please let me know.

Number four. Bowling, beer, karaoke, friends, dancing, and breaking 100 for the first time add up to a really, really good Friday night.

Everyone should go buy the book Velvet Elvis. It's really good. (Thanks Jo).

I hope this didn't come off as needy. I am really really happy with my life right now. I was driving in my car today, sun out, windows down, music on, and I just had to smile because I was so happy. So please don't post a comment about how someday I'll meet the perfect guy, because I'm really not fishing for that here. Now I sound mean. I can't win...

burn out

2006-03-19T12:14:00.000-08:00

So I'm realizing I may be doing too much. I don't really like sitting around all that much, but I think sitting around every once in a while is probably healthy. Healthy is not a word that I could use to describe myself right now. I took Wednesday off from work because I was achy and had a bad cough. I slept and slept and watched DVDs, ate soup, and drank an obscene amount of water. I felt a lot better the next day. Of course, rather than deciding to take it easy for a few days, I went out the very next night with friends. Then, after 4 hours of sleep and a day at work, I had 18 people over for a St. Patrick's Day dinner party. Taking it easy is apparently a foreign concept to me. So today I am trying to rest. I slept as long as I wanted and had breakfast with the girls.

But it's weird. Things that I want to do to be healthy (spin, physical therapy, cooking real food, bible study, church) take time. So many of my afternoons are devoted to this "healthy" lifestyle, that I feel a bit ragged by the end of the week. It's somewhat of a catch-22 really. Where's the balance?

giving up

2006-03-04T14:36:00.000-08:00

One of my co-workers gives up soda every year for Lent. For her, this is a difficult task because she drinks multiple sodas each day. This got me thinking about what I would be willing to sacrifice for 40 days. I have participated in Lent in the past. One year I gave up all sweets and another time I gave up speeding (a particularly difficult thing to do while living in L.A.). During this thinking process, I realized something: I have a lot of things that I'm "addicted" to. Here is a current list of things I would have a really difficult time giving up: morning coffee, my cell phone, weekend breakfasts with the girls, good music, oatmeal, Rosebud Salve, and Thursday nights at Bodega.

Now, if I were REALLY spiritual, I would look at that list and choose something to give up for Lent. On Friday, I had decided on chocolate. That lasted about one hour. What can I say? I guess I'm just not a quitter.

My entrance into dating

2006-02-19T14:06:00.000-08:00

You'd think that by the age of twenty-five I would be more used to interactions with guys, but the truth of the matter is, I am not. All the recent Thursday nights out with the girls have led to my giving my number to a couple of guys. At the time of number distribution, I don't think much about it. It is later that the trouble begins for me. So last night when I had two different guys call me up within an hour and a half of each other, I flipped out. Anxiety basically took over. All the confidence I had at the bar originally talking to these guys is replaced by stress and an unsettling flipping of the stomach. I am excited, for the most part. But I think I've been shaking for the last two days. This is going to take some getting used to.

about the blog...

2006-02-12T16:20:00.000-08:00

So I have a bit of a problem. I love my blog. I really enjoy thinking of something I would like to share with anyone who cares and writing it down. I like that other people can read my thoughts and comment if they feel so led. The problem here is that now that my internet is gone, my ability to blog on a whim is gone. So today, I sat down with a friend at Swork to utilize the wireless internet. It is the first time i've been online in over a week. I was welcomed by 73 emails (most of them junk, of course), and a handful of myspace comments. After wading through it all, I decided that now was my big opportunity to update my blog. I opened up a new post and was left wordless and thoughtless, staring at the blank box. So this is my frustration. Hopefully my ability to write has not gone away with my "borrowed" wireless internet. Maybe in the future I will keep a handy list of things I'd like to blog about when the chance presents itself. Until then, this will have to do.

my not so secret love affair

2006-01-21T15:19:00.000-08:00

I love books. I mean, I really really love books. I love the thrill of buying a new book. It is an amazing high. I love making lists of books that I want to read. Thrift stores and garage sales are my favorite. It is like an undiscovered treasure chest...and oh so cheap! There's something so thrilling about skimming a bookshelf, not knowing what the next spine will read. A beautiful red hardcover of A Tale of Two Cities. A like new copy of Amy Vanderbilt's Complete Book of Etiquette. On one of my recent trips to Out of the Closet thrift store, I purchased a hardcover copy of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. It is beautiful. It embodies everything that I love about books. It cost less than a dollar, and has a 1943 copyright date. It has that amazingly indescribable old book smell. Every time I open it, it's like stepping inside the public library (which, for me, is heaven). But this book, in particular, feels like a little slice of history. On the front page, in perfect handwriting, the kind you only see your grandma write it, is the name and address of the former owner. In addition, the date is scrawled in the top right-hand corner. It feels like this person loved this book, too. Enough to permanently mark it as their own. The book still has it's original dust jacket, stamped with a note about changing the book format, due to the government paper quota. As if this weren't enough, tucked inside the pages of the book was a brown-edged business card for an auto wrecker in Michigan. Much as I tend to use receipts as bookmarks, the former owner probably used the card. And now I'm using it to mark my place.

How did this book make the journey from Michigan to the thrift store shelf in California? Perhaps someone loved it so much that when they moved they couldn't leave it behind. Or maybe a mother gave it to her daughter, telling her of the beauty of the story. Whatever the case, I am happy that it found its way into my house, into my hands, and into my heart.

Enough Already!

2006-01-19T17:21:00.000-08:00

So I've been debating for about a month now how to handle the whole "Bryan Emerald" blog situation. A few days ago, I finally came to the conclusion that I would e-mail him and let him know how I feel. So I have composed a letter. I think it is pretty good. I showed it to two friends and they also thought it was good and appropriate and all that stuff. But my internet has been down for a couple days and so I haven't been able to send it to him. Today, I came home from school, and my internet was working. And now I just cannot send it. I hate confrontation. I don't like confronting my good friends with problems, let alone someone I don't know all that well. The problem is, I tried to ignore the whole ordeal and ignore Bryan Emerald, but that didn't work. It just made me frustrated and upset. So I have to send this e-mail. I am going to send this e-mail. Right now. I can do it. I feel sick...

ideals

2006-01-14T13:26:00.000-08:00

Several months ago, a friend encouraged me to fill out the eharmony profile. I filled it in and submitted it and was presented with a handful of my "ideal" matches. It was sort of fun to see what was out there, but I stopped at that. I never forked over the money and so was left with the knowledge that somewhere out there where some men that would supposedly be good for me. I hadn't logged into my eharmony account for some time now, but it seemed I was still on their mailing list. When I opened up my email today I got an e-newsletter from the dating service. I skimmed it, reading that they now have a compatibility profile availble to users. Apparantly, the profile tells you details about what your ideal partner would be like. Curious, I logged into my account and read the (lengthy) description. I was struck by a couple things. One, it was pretty accurate. Two, I'm pretty sure no one like this probably actually exists. I thought it might be fun over the next couple months to post parts of what my "ideal" looks like. First up: social orientation.

Based on your profile, you are most compatible with men who fit the following descriptions:

Vitality and Security: You have a particular need for a man who is reliable and honest. He is dependable and makes decisions based on his long-term goals. Friends see him as someone who tends to focus on shared goals in a relationship. He has probably chosen a job and lifestyle that lend themselves to longevity and financial stability. Like you, he wants to ensure that his future is safe and secure and he has a good understanding of what it takes to make a relationship work.

Character: Your ideal mate is a man who genuinely tries to care for others. His friends see him as someone who knows he's not perfect, but who makes a sincere effort for the important people in his life. He can show great kindness for others on occasion, but is by no means a saint. He will appreciate your compassionate side, but will also understand and empathize with your feeling that there are times when your personal needs and in life may overshadow concern for other people.
Some additional details about your ideal mate:

Kindness: Your ideal mate goes out of his way to shower you with attention. He is likely to perform small acts of kindness others would not even consider, like jotting you a note of appreciation or bringing home your favorite take-out meal when you're tired. He won't take you for granted. He wants to be there for you when you have a problem or when you just want to talk. He is motivated by a strong belief in the importance of treating people with kindness and consideration.

Autonomy: You will be best matched with someone who is interested to know all the important things about your past, but is equally if not more interested in experiencing the present and building a future together. You are most compatible with someone who believes that communication is vital in creating a healthy relationship, but you may have problems with someone who feels a burning need to know every last detail about your past or every thought that crosses your mind. When in a relationship: Your ideal partner sees himself as part of a couple, but still maintains his independence and identity.

Communication: You are best suited to someone who can appreciate the difficulty you sometimes experience in opening up and expressing your inner thoughts and feelings. You will do poorly with someone who expects instant intimacy. Your ideal mate won't feel the need to tell you every detail about himself, and he won't expect you to tell him everything about yourself on the first date. He will appreciate that it takes time for you to open up, and will be a supportive and understanding audience when you do.

Conflict Resolution: You'll be happiest in the long run with a man who understands that not all conflicts can be resolved easily, and that sometimes it's important to stand up for what you believe. He's the kind of person who thinks resolving conflict is important, but making peace isn't worth sacrificing his beliefs. If he thinks he's right, he will probably argue his position, even if it means a disagreement is going to get more heated before it gets resolved.

today, tomorrow, and yesterday

2006-01-11T21:27:00.000-08:00

There are days when I feel like I have it all together. The sun is shining. My dishes are done. I am prepared for the next day or two of teaching. And then there are the days where I go outside and find I have egg all over my car. The egging incident didn't actually happen today, but crusty remnants of yolk are still attached to my car door. This on top of the fact that my car, in general, is filthy and in desperate need of a cleaning. And I have a pile of laundry sitting on my couch that needs to be put away. I missed my spinning class today. I had eggs for dinner because I didn't have brown rice for my planned meal. Which wouldn't be so bad except that I have no leftovers to bring for lunch tomorrow. I know these all seem so trivial, but somehow the little things that never really bothered me before are creeping under my skin. Ever since my trip I've been in some sort of mood that I just can't seem to bust out of. I feel like I went away and came back a completely different person. I feel as though I am waiting for something, and I'm not exactly sure what.

random/beautiful song lyric:
if today was not an endless highway if tonight was not a crooked trail
if tomorrow wasn't such a long time then lonesome would mean nothing to me at all

From: "Tomorrow is a Long Time" by Bob Dylan
Nickel Creek - Why Should the Fire Die?

so much to say, so much on my mind

2006-01-04T18:01:00.000-08:00

My last night in Madrid I was quiet. I tend to get quiet and withdrawn when I am feeling sad. We went to a couple of tapas bars (the shrimp! the asparagus! the calamari!) and I just felt like I couldn't connect. I ended up crying as I walked across Puerta del Sol, the very location I had been cheering in the New Year the previous night. I didn't want to leave. I loved Madrid. I really, really loved it. I didn't want to leave my sister. I didn't want to go back to the responsiblity of a job, and a family. I wanted to keep seeing new places and meeting new people. I wanted to continue dancing to Shakira and drinking sangria at El Buscon. I still wanted to throw napkins and olive pits on the floor while I stood and ate. I still wanted to sit for 2 1/2 hours, eating a delicious lunch and enjoying wonderful conversation, knowing I didn't have anywhere to be, and all the shops were closed anyway. I love this life. And right now, I am wondering if this is the way life is meant to be. I love my life in L.A. I adore my friends and we have fun together. I missed them while I was gone. But coming home was hard. I don't have a conclusion to this becaue I feel very confused. Maybe it was just a really good vacation. But life can't always be a vacation. Maybe I love too much to be happy. I really enjoy embracing every moment and squeezing the life out of it. I think I am a passionate person. Perhaps to a fault.

Cue mangiata!

2005-12-24T05:43:00.000-08:00

For those of you who don't speak Italian, that is something you say when you are full...I'm thinking it is like when we say we are stuffed or couldn't eat another bite or something like that. I have essentially eaten my way through Italy. Many friends of Casey's have invited us over for meals. Meals in Italy are a bit different than in America. They have delicious appetizers, followed by a pasta course, then a meat course (or, in the case of last night, two meat courses), and finally dessert (or two desserts another night)! But this is not what I really want to write about.

A couple days ago we were in Verona, which is a gorgeous Italian city (you know, "In fair Verona where we lay our scene..."). And Verona certainly is "fair". Again, I am getting sidetracked. Casey's friend Costanza lives in Verona. Her family owns one of the biggest wineries in the area, and she and her mom took us to dinner. We began with an aperitivo, basically drinks and appetizers, and then headed to the restaurant. Costanza recommended items on the menu for us to order. One of which was cavallo. For those of you who speak Spanish, you may be able to guess what this is. It is horse. I have eaten it. And it is good. It was braised (sort of like a pot roast) and served with polenta. I also tried donkey that night. Aren't I brave?

Adoro Italia!

2005-12-21T08:28:00.000-08:00

Italy. Where to begin? I could write pages. I had a mild panic at LAX when I realized I'd forgotton my purse-containing my passport- in the car of the person who dropped us off. She didn't happen to have her cellphone with her and has a history of running errands when up early in the morning. So we had to hope she went home immediately to get the message that my passport was in the car. She wanted to stop, but i'm pretty sure God stopped her, because she missed a couple exits and went straight home. One hour later I had my passport and could check in. Aaahhh! Here is a list of some of my amazing Italian moments:
--Wandering streets at night strung from end to end with Christmas lights
--Shops filled with amazing food: homemade tortellini, salami, prosciotto, wheels of parmesan, artichoke, wine, pastries, bread. All lined up and displayed like jewels.
--Starting every morning with cappaccino
--Spending time drinking wine with twenty year old Italians, wishing I could speak their language.
--Walking the winding streets under miles of porticos
--Years old churches on every corner.

So much more. But I only have 5 minutes left. Tonight Lisa arrives. I love you all and Buon Natale!

Beware of the blog that bites

2005-12-12T17:35:00.000-08:00

So, as most of you know, Saturday was my Christmas party and I love love loved it! It was everything I hoped it would be times approximately 500. By the end of the night I just felt so completely blessed and was essentially floating on a cloud. I could not stop smiling the next day (well, at least once the post-proseco effects wore off in the morning). There is basically nothing better in the world than having all the people one loves stuffed into your candlelit home, eating your lovingly prepared food, talking, laughing, and mingling. I felt so loved and had so much fun. Then came last night.

After church Sunday night, I came home and decided to check myspace before heading to bed. Of course, because I willingly admit to internet stalking a particular person I have a crush on, I decided to scope out his page before signing off. Now, this certain someone...hmm...let's call him Bryan Emerald, had made a brief appearance at my party (as if the party wasn't great enough!) where I proceeded to chat with him for a short while before he left, complaining of a headache. I, of course, was thrilled that he'd come and gushed for the majority of the evening about our "great eye contact". Bryan Emerald also happens to blog quite regularly on myspace, and when I viewed his page, I noticed a new entry titled "Christmas Party Cannibalism". It had been posted the day after my party, so with anticipation on what he may have written, I clicked it open and began to read the following blog entry (I hope it's not plagarism to blog a blog):

After going to see Narnia with a bunch of friends, and with a head full of drugs I went to a Christmas party last night. My eyes were like swamps, and I, three days unshaven to boot. I surely looked my dankest. All the champagne, smiles, schmoozing, eggnog, red, green, noise, Christmas jazz music, strung lights, cheer, and crampedness of the place really drove me to the edge. I was so groggy it was like I was viewing the whole scene through a veil of slow-shuttered fog. Other than standing in the kitchen talking to the hostess for a spell, I only remember one thing of my twenty-or-so minutes spent at the party. There was this girl I walked by on my way out. Tall, really tall, and skinny as a rail. Black slacks and a red, really tailored blouse that hung on her frame perfectly. She looked like a real live model, she really did. She was wearing a really gaunt, serious look plastered on her face (though it may have just been her reaction to the sight of me), her nose stuck up in the air so as to almost hit the ceiling. The funny part about her appearance, however, was not her clothes, nor even her expression; it was her accessory of choice. With her left arm bent at a ninety-degree angle, she carried out in front of her a long, skinny, breadstick. The breadstick must have been about forteen inches long, and with one bite taken off the top. The breadstick struck me immediately because it made her look as if she were carrying around a toy model of herself. I could not help but think the breadstick was also her entire dinner for the night.

I finished reading the entry with a sad and heavy heart. I hated just about everything he had written. I was frustrated, shocked, disappointed, and basically pissed off. There were several things, in particular, that were upsetting to me.

1) His use of the word "schmoozing". He was there for all of 15 minutes, and the entireity of that time was spent talking with me in the kitchen. He had no opportunity to see any "schmoozing". If he had been a better, more friendly person, and actually went into the party, he probably would have been amazed at how open, genuine, friendly, and all around amazing my friends are. He reduced my lovely party to something superficial and cheesy, like a random bar scene or office party.

2) Along the same lines was the flippancy with which he described the party as a whole. I spent a lot of time and money on that party. I thought out all the details. I did this not to garner praise or anything like that. I did it because I love my friends and I love to have them together, entertained, and having fun. I tried to be a good hostess to him. I offered him food, something to drink, and talked with him for a while. He did not eat a bite, drink a sip, and he reduced our conversation to "talking to the hostess for a spell." He describes "strung lights" that didn't even exist, and "Christmas Jazz music" that wasn't all that jazzy to paint some sort of shallow party atmosphere that wasn't even there.

3) Finally, and most apalling to me, was his description of my friend. Yes, she is tall and thin. And she actually is in commercials. His comment about the breadstick being a "toy model of herself" didn't even bother me so much. It was the fact that he made the judgement that she must be starving herself that I found so offensive. Since when was being thin and beautiful a crime? God created us each differently. Some of us were created tall and thin. Why is that so horrible? And then, on top of all of that, to describe her as being stuck up with "a gaunt, serious look plastered on her face...her nose stuck up in the air so as to almost hit the ceiling." He didn't even talk to the girl, but apparantly he saw everything he needed to know to make an assessment of her in about five seconds. And she is not stuck up. She is kind, and thoughtful, and friendly, and generous. Had he given her (or anyone else at my party...or even just my party) more than five minutes of his time, he may have realized this.

So I am going to do what he apparantly didn't have the time or decency to do: make a judgement of a person based on evidence, not on immediate impressions. Bryan Emerald thinks that he is great. He thinks that he can write thought provoking and poignant stories at the expense of others. He thinks this makes him cool. In reality, it is mean spirited and immature. I thought we stopped putting others down to make ourselves look better years ago. He is hot, but he most definitely is not worth another glance.

Reverting to childhood

2005-12-06T22:27:00.000-08:00

What is it about being sick and wanting your mom? I mean, I'm not particularly fond of my mom at the moment, and she hasn't been incredibly maternal as of late. But, when I'm lying in bed at night, coughing in a such a way that I'm pretty sure all my internal organs are going to pour out of my mouth at any moment, all I can think about is how I wish my mom were there. It makes sense, I guess. She was always the one who took care of me when I was sick as a kid, so it only seems logical that I'd want her to care for me now. But still...

So before I was enjoying being sick, but now I hate it. I want to go out and do things and see my friends and this stupid bronchitis is getting in the way of all my fun. And today I had a headache which made me not want to read, or watch TV, or anything, which really takes all the fun out of being sick. But now I have REAL drugs. No more of that fake, over the counter stuff. The doctor said they should make me feel better in a day or two. So hopefully I'll be back out in the world again soon and I can write about more interesting and cheerful things than being sick.

The Optimistic Side of Illness

2005-12-02T17:41:00.000-08:00

Here are some reasons I am enjoying being sick:
-Sleeping in
-Lots of hot tea
-Reading a tabloid magazine
-Sweats and slippers all day
-Movies
-Dozing in and out of sleep
-Taking the day off work
Is this God's way of telling me I need to slow down?

Celebrity Radar

2005-11-27T12:25:00.000-08:00

For some reason, I've been blessed with a particularly acute celebrity radar. This often comes in handy living in Los Angeles. One day, standing outside of a restaurant, I saw a giant, old, black Cadillac (or some other car of that sort) pull up to the valet. I noticed the person getting out of the car and almost instantly recognized her as Drew Barrymore. She was with Fabrizio from The Strokes. I saw Julianna Marguilles at Coffee Bean, Jamie Lee Curtis at Blockbuster, Kristin Davis walking down the street in Santa Monica, Kobe Bryant at a hotel, and just this weekend I saw Gary Sinise at the Hotel del Coronado in San Diego. For some reason I'm always the first to spot them. I've seen celebrities at places you would expect them to be (movie premieres, parties, awards shows), but there's something disconcerting and surreal about seeing a celebrity walking down the street. I suppose seeing celebrities as normal people is always difficult. I know they are actors playing parts, but to me Drew Barrymore IS Josie Gellar with a little bit of Charlie's Angel thrown in. I mean, I knew her when she was a little towhead in pigtails. So seeing her hunched over her Italian dinner, whispering to her boyfriend just seems so odd. Perhaps this is why celebrity breakups affect me so much. I feel like I know these people. The news of Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson's divorce bummed me out. I chose not to believe the smattering of headlines on the tabloid covers. I don't even particularly like Nick and Jessica, but for some reason I was rooting for their marriage to work. Brad and Jen. John Stamos and Rebecca Romijn. Same affect. Maybe it's just the ending of a marriage that makes me sad. It just seems like if anyone should be able to keep things together, it should be a celebrity. They have beautiful clothes, homes, bodies, and can afford excellent therapists. I guess it just makes me realize how empty those things are. Not only are celebrities real people with real problems, but no matter how perfect things look on the outside, perfection is an unattainable goal. It makes me thankful for a God who allows for failure and mistakes. Grace is one thing that no amount of money could ever supply. Knowing that fulfillment will never be found in fame, riches, beauty, or another person is, in the end, encouraging.

Beginnings and Endings

2005-11-23T19:16:00.000-08:00

This is my first blog. The fact that I'm starting a blog seems sort of self-centered to me. I feel like, why should anyone really care what I have to say or what I'm thinking? But maybe they do. And if they don't, then at least this can be a place for me to write and think and process. Which seems to be all I've been doing lately. At least the thinking and processing part. Over the last month I feel like my stress level has reached mammoth heights. Generally, the best monitor of my stress level is the length of my nails. Over the summer, my nails were the perfect length, not too long, not to short. Now they are nubs. I hate the fact that I bite my nails. It's disgusting and ugly, but i'm not sure what to do about it.

Today is the day before Thanksgiving and I have so much to be thankful for. But right now I'm sitting in a room crying. I hope that's not too personal. See, here's where the beginnings and endings part comes in. My parents marriage is officially ending. That in itself is sad, and stressful, but I think what's really upsetting me is the fact that I am discovering the flaws in my parents, and I'm finding that difficult to overcome. It is the end of that naive, innocent view that my parents are perfect. And the beginning of trying to understand and get past that. How do you have a relationship with someone when so much of what you've believed to be true about them isn't? I love my mom. I love my dad. But right now, I don't really like them all that much. And I know that's cliche, but I feel this tension between wanting a relationship with them, and knowing how I feel when I'm trying to be around them. There's this line in "Garden State" that Zach Braff says in the swimming pool with Natalie Portman about coming home and realizing that it's not that secure place anymore and that's when you've really grown up. And I've always really related to that line.

It is also the ending of a perception of a perfect childhood. I honestly always thought that I had some fairly tale life as a little girl. I just looked back at pictures of when I was younger, and it was like I was looking at them through some crazy alteration glasses that distorted scenes that were once happy and comforting into scenes of dissension. My mom was not smiling in many of the pictures. In fact, she looked stressed and upset in several of them. The fact that most pictures were taken at high-stress times such as birthdays, holidays, and family trips could be a contributor. I also noticed that I was not a cute child. And I don't mean I had bad hair or was wearing some crazy 80s outfit, although that was a part of it. But I never, ever realized before that I was fat! I mean, really, truly honestly fat! It was like once I hit about 4th grade I became chunky, and like some well-nourished amoeba, just kept growing and growing. All the way through college. It made me surprised I had any friends at all. The fact that guys were always commenting on how hot my sister was (what about me??), suddenly made perfect sense!

Maybe it's time for some beginnings now. Because I think beginnings are times of hope, and Lord knows I need all the hope I can get right about now. I have new friends that I really really like and just adore spending time with. I am living on my own for the first time ever and loving that freedom and autonomy and the beauty of truly having my own space. So, as I mourn the ending of certain areas of my life, I take joy in the fact that beginnings cannot be far behind.