I Remember It To A Tee

I posted this as a response to a recent blog by Jason Mraz, but since it's such a good memory I'm posting it here as well. My apologies for the repeat to those of you who may have already read it in the comments of Freshness Factor Five Thousand.

My mom took me with her on a business trip to San Francisco when I was in 6th grade. It made quite an impression on me because it was the first time I was allowed to stay by myself (not even at home!) while she went to the office all day.

The Hyatt Regency in Embarcadero Center (i.e., the hotel we stayed at) is where I developed my love of jazz because there was a piano bar at the bottom of the atrium. I wasn't supposed to leave our room so when things got too boring, I would prop the door open in case Mom called on the phone, and I would stand just outside at the edge of the balcony that overlooked the atrium and listen to the notes float past me on their way to the top. I made up all kinds of scenarios in my head about being a princess in a tower, or a grand lady from 100 years ago on holiday as I listened to the music. My imagination was (is) limitless. Nowadays someone would've probably called the cops on mom for leaving me alone in a hotel at that age. Oh well, we do what we have to as single parents.

Anyway, Mom took me to a magic show one night at this little hole in the wall place. It was kind of late for a 6th grader and there were no other kids in the audience. The people on stage called themselves Asparagus Valley Cultural Society. Most of the comedy material went right over my head and by the end I think my mom was a little sheepish that she didn't know the show was NOT really for kids. I mean who woulda thought? Aren't all magic shows for kids? Even if they don't end until 11pm?

As an aside, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. When Katy was around 7 or 8, we were on a trip to Philadelphia. I took her to the movies to see Beavis & Butthead Do America. I knew it might have SOME jokes that went over her head, but I had NO IDEA what Beavis & Butthead were really all about. I mean, c'mon... it was ANIMATED! Aren't all cartoons for kids? And when they say "DO America" aren't they talking about a road trip?! haha But back to our story...

The Mystery of the Peking Snow Duck (which was actually a rabbit, as made obvious by the punchline "that's Snow Duck!" as the "peeking" rabbit is pulled from under a cloth) was the best trick since it was probably the only one I really got (comedy-wise - magic can be understood at any age :).

The magicians said they would be in the lobby after the show and I begged Mom to let us stay and meet them because I can never get enough magic. (Maybe that's where my groupie nature started!)

The big guy from on stage came out carrying a cage. He let me pet the rabbit and asked if I would like to stick pencils in its ears. (Weird, the things we remember.) I giggled and said no. He thanked us for coming to the show and gave me a green tshirt with their name and logo on the front. It was too big to wear, but I slept in it for years, and I still have it (and it fits now).

The best part of the story? Those magicians were Penn & Teller. :)

Picture was taken in 2008. Click HERE for an account of how Penn & Teller started out (and yes, Wier was still part of the act when I saw them in San Fran). I think it's SO ironic that they spent years performing in Philadelphia (where I grew up) but *I* saw them all the way across the country. Not the first time that's happened. I lived in Arizona for six years before moving to New Jersey. After I moved to New Jersey I started working for a company that was headquartered in Scottsdale, in the same building that I worked in while I lived in Arizona. Nothing like moving across the country to work for the people upstairs!

Retribution Shall Be Swift and Certain

I have this friend who shall remain nameless to protect the GUILTY. In the short time we've been acquainted, we've become pretty good at playing pranks on each other. I'd just like to say for the record: He started it.

No, really. He sprayed his cologne in my hair dryer so every time I turn it on, it's like a huge wave of Hei in my face. STILL. After a month! (Mostly because he keeps renewing it every time he's here!) Don't worry, his hair dryer smells worse now.

This past weekend I don't remember what prompted his impulse (not that he really needs a reason to feed his devious personality), but he managed to get ice down my pants not once, but TWICE, effectively rendering me without dry underroos while I was 45 minutes from home. The first time we had a good laugh, but the second time I was slightly pissed. Of course he was "sorry" (read: not really) and said so repeatedly in a lame attempt to avoid retaliation. Seriously, does that EVER work?

I played it off like I was mad until I figured out my revenge, then I looked him straight in the eye and said "You're forgiven" in that tone the evil villain uses when he/she's about to attempt killing the Hero. Except I don't give long speeches that offer the time needed for the Hero to form a plan and escape unscathed.

The rest of the day he was on his guard but nothing happened. I mean c'mon, I'm not THAT dumb. It's no fun if they're expecting it.

I helped him do laundry, clean the kitchen, and I made his bed for him. Except when I made the bed, I short sheeted it. :D Big mistake to leave me unsupervised. Short sheeting was not actually my original plan of attack - it was just something that came up while I was making the bed - but it turned out so well, I don't think the original idea would hold a candle to this now anyway.

I left him a note under the pillow too that said, "Still love me?" figuring he'd find it when he had to tear the sheets off to fix them. He usually asks me that after he's done something particularly evil.

That night he wanted to stay over at my house. You have NO IDEA how hard it was to say okay because I am not a patient person. You can run, but you cannot hide. And you gotta sleep at home sometime.

Honestly, today (Monday) I hadn't thought much about it because I was too busy. We talked a few times on IM, but nothing significant. Sometimes he takes a nap in the afternoon but today was not one of those days. I had all but forgotten the entire thing until we had the following conversation just around midnight. I was laughing so hard I could barely type back to him.

Keep in mind this man has a genius IQ and an ego to match (fortunately his ego is a positive, upbeat type - I'll give him that) which makes it that much funnier IMHO.

---

Him: u there?

Me: yep

Him: what did you do the last 15 minutes?

Me: Worked on the compset projects for Pearson

Him: know what I did? I spent it in the dark, trying to figure out how come the fuck I couldn't get under the covers...

Me: HAHAHAHAHAAAAAA

Him: 15 fucking minutes and I had to turn on the light

Me: ::is dying laughing::

Him: ok you so got me there

Me: 15 minutes? really?

Him: I turned off the lights

Me: ::falls out of chair::

Him: so I couldnt see

Him: and was feeling around

Him: and tried and tried

Him: and was "is THIS the edge

Him: no , that must be the edge

Him: wtf

Him: WTF

Him: ok HERE it is

Him: no

Him: not that

Me: OMFG my sides hurt

Him: then I was SURE I got it

Him: and got under

Him: then I was like "no it isnt right"

Him: back to square one

Him: how come my feet are cold and

Him: hmm

Him: ok

Me: OH man, make it stop - my back hurts now

Him: and ginger was meowing all the time
(Ginger is his cat who is just as much trouble as he is, trust me. She tattles on his other cat, Cinnamon, by meowing at my friend until he finds what all the fuss is about - usually something bad Cin has done.)

Him: was pitch black

Me: Tattle tail

Him: yes

Me: Did you find my note?

Him: yes

Him: then I knew what it was

Him: didnt find it until I turned on the light

Me: Now I have tears

Him: you so got me

Me: Damn

Me: 15 minutes

Me: I love it

Him: man I was all ready to get into bed

Him: and was like WHAT THE FUCK CANT FIND IT

Him: and had too much pride to turn on the light

Him: so I know I can find it

Him: I got in and out like 4 times

Me: I can totally see the whole scene too

Me: Oh man, now I need the inhaler I laughed so hard

Him: I am debating if I still love you

Me: No you're not

Him: its a tough one

Me: cuz you respect the skillz :P

Him: hAH

Him: YEAH

Him: ok I admit that

Him: but love is different than respect

Him: but you sooooo got me

Me: and that isn't even what I had originally planned to do to you for that ice cube

Him: sure

Me: It wasn't

Me: the other involved pancake syrup but you might be off the hook with this one because I dont think it could get better than 15 minutes of you fumbling in the dark with your pride and your sheets

Him: Ginger knew

Him: I think she wasn't tattling on me

Him: she was laughing

Me: ::still dying laughing::

Him: I hate you

Me: No you dont

Him: <-- NOT laughing

Him: ok I had a good laugh

Him: as soon as I saw the note

Him: I knew I had been had

Me: hahaha

Him: ok

Him: sheets straight now

Me: Good for you :)

Him: ok now I go to sleep

Me: You sure?

Him: if there are no more boobie traps

Me: I love you :)

Me: <--angel

Him: I love you too

Him: NOT

Me: :P

Me: 15 minutes...

Me: seriously need inhaler

Him: you soo got me

Him: couldnt figure it out

Me: FOUR times

Him: but when I saw the note

Him: man

Winter in Paradise

A couple Sundays ago I was headed home on the 15* and I noticed the Jeep’s temperature gauge said 80°. In January. How awesome is Southern California? Yeah yeah, I know, global warming, but my mood was too high to let those thoughts take over this time. The farther I went, the warmer it got… 82°… 84°…

When it hit 85° I said forget that To Do list, I’m going to the beach. (“Forget” is so the f word I used!) How often do those days come in the middle of winter? Ok, maybe a little more frequently here than other places, but c’mon! EIGHTY-FIVE and SUNNY. Who wouldn’t go to the beach? I’m not sure which would’ve been more of a waste: shirking responsibility for play time or staying indoors when it’s that beautiful outside. I blame T.S. for egging me on.

Time you enjoyed wasting is not time wasted.
~T.S. Eliot

A left onto the 78 pointed me straight at the afternoon sun. I flipped through the iPod while cars swerved around me until Marley’s melodic beat filled the car. “Is this love is this love is this love is this love that I’m feelin...” Why yes, Bob, I believe it is.

Cruising along I glance at the sky to my left and I see this:

Taking that picture proved even more dangerous than searching for music, so when this appeared:

I actually pulled over on the median to snap the shot. The boys from Miramar must’ve been feeling the groove too. Either that, or God is using our Armed Forces to send us love notes. How ironic would THAT be?

Seriously tho, how awesome is San Diego? Where else do you get hearts in the sky on a gorgeous day?

It’s been months since I had a chat with Big Blue**, and I’ve missed her lots. She was beautifully clear in voice and visage, and left a looking glass for me on the sand so I could reflect on some thoughts as I walked.

Anyone that says there are no seasons here just doesn’t know how to see them. Even on this warm, sunny afternoon, the shoreline appeared greyer, and the water abandoned on the sand gave it a wintry expression. Not unfriendly, just different. A quiet countenance, as if Summer was sleeping.

You see that tall white chimney where land meets ocean in the pic below? I walked all the way there. (Click on the pic to expand so you can see better.)

Strolling along, I found many things. Individuality...

and community…

love…

and some rocky parts…

that led to traps long buried in my thinking.

Sometimes you CAN see the forest for the trees tho,

and once you find the stairway out, it’s easy to step through and close the gate on old patterns.

Then you find more love all around you.

Maybe even enough to transcend the rocky parts.

Someone mentioned there was a big game on that day, but I have no clue what the score was. (Later I heard the Chargers were out of the playoffs, so I guess the score was Us: Some; Them: More.)

Towards the end of my walk, I found proof that all rivers really do lead to the sea,

and even if you're left balancing on one leg, at least you’re standing. And you still have wings to fly.

I am amazed and lucky and grateful to live here. There is truly nothing like watching that big orange ball sink into the ocean and paint the sky, and know while you’re watching the light fade that it is sunrise for someone else.

What an awesome day.

*"The 15" is how Californians refer to the north-south highway that is Interstate 15 out here. All roads are "the" then the number. Not I-15 or Route 15, but "the 15." I'm assuming it evolved from "The Number 15 Freeway" or something of that nature. Etymology majors correct me if I'm wrong.

**Big Blue = the Pacific Ocean

Being Grateful to Breathe Freely

I had to wait in line for almost 20 minutes to put gas in the tank today. At first I was annoyed because I had groceries in the car that weren't getting any fresher, and who wants to spend a beautiful day waiting to fill Big Oil's pockets with blood money? But the orange sharpie marker on my arm reminded me to "Breathe freely" (a new fav mantra that came to me last night as I was falling asleep) so I opened the sunroof and turned off the car to extinguish pollution from both air and mind.

I started by thinking about how grateful I was to again live less than a mile from the cheapest gas station in the area (hence, the lines - I also had this blessing in New Jersey), and that I managed to so easily manifest the money I needed so I could be there.

I also admitted that I was overreacting for my own convenience on the issue of getting the perishables into colder regions, and I was thankful that I was not truly pressed for time.

I then reminded my Self that everything happens for a reason, so maybe the delay had purposes I was unaware of.

When I leaned my head back to gaze through the sunroof, I noticed a beautiful hawk (or perhaps one of our resident golden eagles, I still have a hard time telling which is which) playing in the air currents above. Normally I see them over the field across the street from my house because it is a veritable buffet of tasty raptor snacks. Not sure what this one was looking for over the gas station unless he'd become addicted to stray fries in the McDonalds' dumpsters next door.

My feathered friends are one thing that makes Bonsall really awesome to live in. We have many large birds soaring around and I've often had the opportunity to watch them at length. The more I do, the easier it becomes to lose myself so completely in their flight that I can feel the waves and dips in the breeze as it sweeps over their wings and carries them aloft. Today was just like that. It was so nice (and easy) to rise above my negative thoughts, and I'm grateful to Great Spirit for giving my attention a better focus.

I'm also idly wondering now if gas stations breed negativity because the corporations behind them are doing such awful things to our planet. And now many of them (at least here in CA) have the balls to put TVs at the pumps and try to fill your brain with more blather and pre-programmed propaganda while you fill your tank. Not to mention the "convenience" stores carry such crap food and drink... but that's another post I suppose.

~*~

This manifestation of money over the weekend has been interesting. Katy and her bf (we'll call him E) finally made it out here this past Thursday. I'm amazed but grateful my trusty old Camaro made it all the way across country without even blinking. I should've had more faith in a Chevy.

The kids have definitely been having fun on the way as this trip has also served as a vacation for E. A well-deserved one I imagine after living with my overly-dependent daughter for four months. I've been struggling just to meet my bills on the salary from my job, so I was very worried about how I was going to afford doing anything fun with them while E was here. (He leaves Monday to go back East.)

The first challenge came up when E decided he wanted to see the Padres play at Petco Park since they're at home this weekend. My stubborn Irish pride was not about to let him pay for me, who is almost 40 and should certainly have enough funds by this time to not only pay for herself but the kids too. I mean cripes, I may not look my age (which I'm infinitely grateful for) but I should at least be able to act it. (Once in awhile. :)

I've seen people advertise free tickets at the last minute on craigslist before, so I decided I was going to ask the Universe for help. I posted in the Items Wanted section asking if anyone had four tickets that they weren't using to any of the games this weekend. I know this happens all the time, and the Padres are already out of the playoffs, plus they were playing the Pirates, who are in last place. Not something you would call "a big game." I had two responses within an hour. The first one was bogus, but the second one was legit. The tix were for that night's game, so I called the kids to tell them to come back from the beach while I emailed the lady to make arrangements to pick up the tix. I am so infinitely grateful to her and told her so several times. (I feel like I'm abusing the crap out of the word grateful in this post - there should be more than three words in the thesaurus to express gratitude dammit!)

Now I had to figure out how to get enough cash for gas and whatever else might come up. I remembered I still have a second computer monitor we're no longer using, so I quick took some pics of it and stuck it on eBay with every related keyword I could think of in the coding. Normally these things take a few days to sell, so I knew it was a long shot. I priced it above the going rate but with free shipping and I'll be damned if it didn't sell within the hour. I was surprised and not (and OMG was I grateful!) at the same time. Since I make all my Buy It Now auctions the kind where you have to pay immediately, I then had enough cash to be comfortable for at least that night.

We went to the game, I got to see my new friend again (we'll call him K) since he lives downtown near the stadium, and we all had a great time. K wanted to show us around the Gaslamp District (a section of downtown that's been revitalized with tons of restaurants and clubs), but Katy and E were wiped out from their day at the beach. We headed home, but agreed to meet today instead.

Of course, going down there again meant I had to come up with more funds, so last night when we got home I put something else on eBay, and damn if that didn't sell by morning too. How awesome is the Universe for helping out like this?

The kids ended up being super lazy today though and weren't ready to go anywhere until after 7pm. (And people think I'M bad about taking an hour to get ready! HA!) I wasn't going to encourage them to leave earlier because the more they're happy being at home, the less money we're spending. Unfortunately tho, by the time we left I couldn't get hold of K, so we were on our own tonight. We managed to walk the entire Gaslamp District anyway and had a nice dinner at an out of the way pub. It was a good time and I loved just roaming around observing all that was going on. Also found the House of Blues, which was good for future reference since there are several musicians I like that often make that their stop in SD, and Dick's Last Resort, which is a restaurant I've always wanted to check out.

Incidentally, one of my observations was that San Diego women really dress to the nines to go clubbing. There were so many stiletto heels and short skirts on little black dresses that Mark probably would've dropped over from sheer testosterone overload. (That's something I really miss about him - being able to discuss how hot people are and not feel like a total lesbian if the hot person happens to be a girl. I truly have no interest in girls [and he has no interest in guys], but we both appreciate pretty things no matter which gender they are. Too bad most pretty things totally ruin the image as soon as they open their mouths.)

The clothes (or lack of) are what really got me though. I had to stop and think, "Damn, did I dress that slutty when I was that age?" And Ego was totally like, "Honey, you were ALL OVER THAT." (I remember the first time I met Mark I was wearing a red dress and black stockings with 4 inch heels and my father said I looked like a whore before I left. At the time I was pretty hurt and defensive, but now I'm thinking he may have been right. Mark didn't mind tho.) I got all my clubbing/drinking/"whoring" done before I had Katy at age 20, so I was actually younger than most of these girls (in years anyway) when I was dressing that way. Thank God for fake IDs.

So anyway, the Gaslamp District rocks even tho I had to walk around with my hands in my pockets instead of holding someone else's. I was thankful I no longer have the peer pressure to freeze my ass off in a skirt and heels; my jeans and Chucks were never so appreciated.

Best of all, when I got home, I had email from two people answering ads for things I've had on craigslist for a week, so now, not only am I covered for this time with the kids, but I've managed to cover the overdue phone bill as well. Go me.

Breathe freely. Have patience. All I am seeking is seeking me.

It's worked so perfectly since I've lived here it's like I've been given the gift of magic.

Manifest Destiny

So what about this great place I’ve landed in? "Far out" is exactly what it is, but in a "totally rad" California-good way. :D

The movers delivered my belongings the very next day, after I agreed to pay their full ridiculous price. The only other option was they unload everything into storage and we argue over it in court. Stuff is simply not worth all that negative vibe to me. At first I told the guy to just keep it all – I wasn’t paying, but I only half meant it. I probably would’ve gotten over the loss (I find my attachment to things is shallow – out of sight, out of mind, with very few exceptions), but I knew it would end up in court because they would want the rest of their money and who wants all that hassle? Not me. I will probably end up suing them in small claims for the difference because I can’t afford to be an extra $1600 in debt, but confrontation is so not my bag. In fact, I dunno why I’m even headed down that thought path because it stresses me out. I wanna write about the fun stuff.

In the Now, let’s check out my list of what I was hoping for in my new address, down to the silly (and sometimes unreasonable) details:

• Washer/dryer – check
• 2 bathrooms – check
• Lots of space (including closets and storage) – check
• Kitchen sink: double sided porcelain, not stainless steel (I’m weird like that) – check
• Dishwasher – check
• Gas stove – this one’s electric. I can deal.
• Fireplace – check (I don’t care if I never use it, it looks cool. ☺)
• Offstreet parking for 2 cars (the Universe is like, “does a garage work for you?” Uhh, YES!) – check
• Tile or wood floors, but carpet in the bedrooms – check (they’re tile)
• Individual owner, not a management company – check
• Viewable stars in the night sky (the sky at Mom’s house in New Mexico spoiled me, but there’s at least as many stars here on a clear night as NJ had) – check
• Small town atmosphere that’s still convenient to shopping and daily needs – check
• Organic grocery – check check check (I think there are more organic stores here than “normal” ones)
• Color in the vegetation – (is there ever NOT color here?) check!

In other words, I was blessed with EVERYTHING I wanted, including stuff I didn’t really expect, but wished for anyway. (Ok, except the stove. It still heats my tea water, so I'll survive.)

I was gifted with things I didn’t even think of as well: I’m surrounded by horse ranches and golf courses, which makes for a beautiful drive in every direction, and the energy of affluent people due to the nature of those businesses. There are Golden Eagles - EAGLES! - that fly around here all the time. I’ve heard their cries, and the other day I saw one circling the house. WOW. Talk about powerful energy.

What I didn’t get, but then I didn’t ask for it either, was central heat and air conditioning. This place is a little weird that way, but I chalk it up to the Cosmic Sense of Humor. I mean technically, I didn't ask for it, right? One should never assume.

The heat is radiant heat (not forced air), and Kathy told me it’s in the ceiling. Makes no sense to have it there since heat rises, but I guess back in the 80s when the condo was built, they were still learning. I’m not sure how warm downstairs will be in the winter (upstairs will probably be fine), but then it probably gets down to a chilly 60° on the worst winter day here, so I’m not anticipating much of a problem, even though I’m one of those people that’s always cold. I still have all my thick northeast sweaters and my space heaters. Perhaps I’ll get some use out of them.

I’ve unpacked most of the boxes and pretty well settled in. I’ve been abusing craigslist, replacing many of the things I sold before I left, enjoying the hunt for deals and driving around to pick things up. Turns out furnishing your home from craigslist is an excellent way to learn your way around a new city. It’s almost like living in a rat maze – if you take all the right turns, you get a treat at the end! Unfortunately, the people waiting with the treat don’t like accepting payment in rat poop. Shame that, because I’m RICH in rat poop thanks to my fuzzy brats.

A couple Sundays after I got here I went to Encinitas to pick up a rug for the dining room and passed a sign for Moonlight Beach. I’d heard of it before because Switchfoot (my second most favorite band ever) puts on a benefit concert there once a year, and I planned to go but then I chose to stay in New Mexico for that week instead so I missed it. (Ok, yeah, Jason was supposed to play too, but in this case it really wasn't just him I was going to see.)

After stuffing the rug in the back of the Jeep, I thought I would “just go check out the ocean, then go home.” HA. Two hours and a mile or so later, I came back with a wicked sunburn, but I don’t regret it a bit.

As expected, most people were within 100 yards of the beach entrance so I walked a little ways down the shoreline to admire the view in peace. However, something about the atmosphere fostered an otherworldly, dreamlike state and I was loathe to break it so I just kept walking. As I wandered down the sand, it was hard to decide whether to absorb the geology of the cliffs to my right with the wonder of the mansions sitting atop them, or the vast, commanding presence of the ocean to my left. I was walking between the perfect opposition of Earth and Water with a clear, blue Sky overhead. (I guess that makes me the Fire element – no wonder I got burned!) Time was easily suspended. Being in that space, one would be hard-pressed not to feel close to whatever name you lay on God.

In those moments, all my doubts about moving here were sucked into the undertow and I recognized it was that which drove me. The feeling I get when I know I’m completely in the right place, no matter what chaos happened in getting there or what chaos may lie beyond it – experiencing that connection was/is the reason for all the sorting, packing, leaving work/friends/family, driving through tornadoes and deserts, sneaking animals into hotels... When I started this adventure, I knew I would find it – I counted on it. I just didn’t know when or where it would show up. I certainly lost sight of it when I arrived, but I kept my faith in what I set out to do, and that unyielding knowing is what I was after. It was in that very moment, standing before Big Blue that I knew down to the cellular level: This was SO worth it.

I even snapped a pic and sent it to Jenn with those very words. ☺

Yeah, you know, that is such a powerful feeling I can’t even think what to write next, so I’ll leave it be until tomorrow. It’s 5 am anyway and I need to sleep a little before work. If you’ve ever had that feeling you know what I’m talking about. If not, you’ll get there with faith.

Trust in your Self.

Valentine's Day (Technically)

2.1.08

Books are always one of those sneaky wake up calls for me. They look all unassuming sitting on the shelf, then you open them up and BAM it's like God wrote you a really long letter and stuck the finished, bound product in your hand since you weren't really listening to all those subtle voice mails he left on your Univer-soul answering machine.

Up until today I hadn't read the famous book The Prophet by Khalil Gibran. I'd heard the author's name, but thought maybe he was a basketball player for the Lakers? How did I manage to miss this in all my spiritual reading? I'll have to chalk it up to "when the student is ready, the teacher will appear." I really liked the chapters on love and relationships. Lots of good verses that make you think in there.

Another book I recently started reading is Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. I first saw it while cruising through our intranet at work (as if cruising Barnes & Noble doesn't cost me enough, but at work I can get Penguin books for half price). I had it on my list, but many other necessities came before it. I saw it again a couple times at B&N, but I didn't want to pay full price for it so I waited. Mark bought it for me while I was in Texas, so that rocked. It's a good read too. Very parallel to some things in my life right now (minus the mental breakdown), and full of stories of her travel (which I intend to have in my future!).

2.14.08

We were in LA/Hollywood last week for a trade show, but stayed a few days extra for vacation as well. What a blast! Kinda took the sting out of some not so warm and fuzzy stuff that happened just before we left.

We saw the Walk of Fame, Chinese Theater, Universal Studios (tour, movie, and CityWalk), Pig & Whistle, LA Ink, Hollywood & Highland mall, took the requisite touristy pics of the Hollywood sign (I would've loved to hike up there if you're allowed, but didn't get around to it), saw Bushwalla live (and in concert) at The Mint, Santa Monica pier (a little lame except for the sunset pictures), local color at Venice Beach (fucking rocked), Rodeo Drive,

drove all the way to the top of the hill up Pacific Drive in Glendale, got a little nervous while driving through Almost East LA (we didn't know), Science Center (the only totally lame thing we ran across, but Mark says we're just spoiled by the museums in NYC)... we did it all.

Well, not all. We did not take any "celebrity home tours," nor did we make it to Warner Bros studio tour (which I hear is better than Universal); we didn't get to go to any vintage shops (there were so many too!), and we never made it up to the Griffith Park Observatory. It's all good though - gives me a reason to go back. I can't believe how much we packed in as it was. Mark even got to visit with a friend he knew when he lived in CA just after high school.

We stayed at the Celebrity Hotel on Orchid, which was charmingly vintage in a glamorous 50s kind of way. I love that it had a kitchenette. I immediately sought out the nearest Whole Foods (there were two! And a Trader Joe's! Score!) and ended up buying more than we could eat during our stay. I hope the front desk guy really did offer the rest to someone who would use it. I hate wasting food. There was a Starbucks in walking distance too.

We both agreed we could totally see some famous movie star overdosing in the bathroom of this place, and the cops busting in to find them lying on the floor in a coma. (Something about black and white checkered bathroom floors with bright yellow walls makes me think that... go figure.)

We had a really good time. Mark was disappointed with the amazing smog that was hanging over LA though. It made photos a challenge sometimes, and I didn't like thinking about breathing it (how does anyone living there escape lung cancer?!), but I've heard the stories, so I guess I kind of expected it. I didn't want to think too hard about what that meant to the environment because I really wanted (and needed) to be happy on this trip. I saved all our plastics in a bag hoping the maids would recycle them. It doesn't make up for much, but I didn't want to contribute to the ickiness either.

We took a red eye back on Sunday night, arriving at JFK at 5am Monday morning. (Yes, we are apparently INSANE.) It was weird watching the sun set over LA, hopping a plane, then watching it rise over NYC only a few hours later. (Shortest. Night. Ever.) After manipulating baggage and driving home through Manhattan's OverAchiever Rush Hour (6:30-7:30 am) I was just getting home at the time I should've jumped in the shower to go to work. And here I had the misconception that somewhere in there I was going to get a couple hours of sleep. HA. I called and told them I'd be late and they were very cool about it.

We're going to San Diego in the Spring. Mark wants to see what a west coast city is like sans smog, and of course that's really where I intend to live eventually. We're even going to check out apartments and such while we're there.

So today is Valentine's Day (well, in California it still is) and we went to see the movie Definitely Maybe with Ryan Reynolds as our date. It was really cute. It's a chick flick, but I love those. (My Cinderella complex totally eats that shit up.) Even though I can barely look at Reynolds without seeing Van Wilder, he did a good job of playing Average Guy Without A Clue That Finally Comes Around, also known as Every Woman's Improbable Wet Dream. Mark says I'm like the character April, the cool chick with red hair that drinks tea and doesn't like politics and reads lots of books. Those characters are usually the ones I like best in movies like that. I guess minus the international travel, that is very like me. (Although in the movies these chicks always work in awesome coffee shops and bookstores - I'd like to know how they pay rent in NYC working minimum wage jobs?! I don't think you could live in a closet in NYC for minimum wage! Or maybe they just don't eat - like ever. That would explain the skinny ones.) I hope someday I can get my finances back in order and remove the "minus" before that travel thing. I think I'd go to London first, then Scotland, and I'd have to hit Ireland since I'm already on the island. India, Morocco, and Greece are also on my list. Maybe Rome, and I'd like to see Venice but I hear it really smells. (Which makes me think "Listen! Do you smell something?") Tuscan countryside definitely, and the south of France would be cool. And Hawaii... I'd love to experience that. (Nothing romantic about any of those places, right? What can I say. Maybe I should just run away to Hollywood and be an actress so I can play all those parts and get it over with.)

Speaking of old 80s movies, we saw a preview for a new Indiana Jones and awesomely, Harrison Ford is still going to play the part. How fucking cool is that? I am so stoked. IMDB says it comes out in October. Katy's really into the two National Treasure movies lately and I keep saying "We need to watch Indiana Jones - they were even better." We borrowed the DVDs from a friend, but haven't got to it yet. I hope they're timeless films that are still as funny as they were back then. I haven't seen them in forever. It's disappointing when you go back and watch a film you remember as being so funny and awesome, but the jokes are stale because you don't remember the references that were part of the pop culture then.

Damn, 2:30am. It's no wonder I'm always tired until the weekend comes around. There's just so much to DO though (fun or not). Funny how time is all we have, yet there never seems to be enough of it. I have another Giancoli chapter to proof too; this one's on particle physics. My favorite. I can already feel my brain starting to hurt from the expansion. Ha. :)

Pictures of California coming as soon as I have time to download them from the camera. I took lots of video too, but I haven't even made time to compile the video from Texas in November yet. :sigh: More time! I need more hours!

Wrapping Up 2007

Random thoughts (that went long):

I had to put Earl down a couple days ago. It sucked balls, as expected, and I cried so hard I have another headache just thinking about it. It was better than looking at him suffering though, which he started to do the night before. I wish I could’ve taken him in right then because watching his ragged breathing was awful, but Oradell Animal Hospital’s Emergency service is the most ridiculous bunch of BS I’ve ever regretfully dealt with in the past. They won’t let you be with the animal when it’s put down, the doctors are condescending, and for all that they charge you out the ass. No. I won't have it. It’s selfish that I made Earl wait 6 hours until my regular vet opened, but I just couldn’t let him die alone from a hand that didn’t give a shit, and then be in debt for it. NO. NO. NO.

As it was, Dr. Welch wasn’t at Franklin Lakes A.H. when I went in and Dr. Kozak was the one to play Grim Reaper. Fitting, since she’s the one who broke my dog when we took Jazz in for X-Rays (Jazz came home with cold tail, which is caused by overworking a dog's muscles). I wasn’t thrilled, especially since she charged me for an office visit simply because I wanted to be with Earl when she put him under (that would’ve never happened with Dr. Welch), but I figured she can’t possibly fuck up killing an animal.

He’s at peace now though, whole and perfect again, and not in any pain. I hope Zeus was kind enough to meet him at the bridge and help him get acquainted with the new existence.

Edwyn, his cagemate, seems unaffected for the most part, except that he’s taken to scaring the shit out of me by sleeping entirely on his side with his big ol’ feet sticking straight out like he’s dead. I wonder if he thinks it’s a joke. Wilbur did the same thing to me, but only once. Edwyn's been doing it daily. I tried pushing Edwyn’s and Wilbur’s cages closer together, hoping maybe the two wimps (I say that affectionately) of my chinchilla herd would get along and live together, but they spent a good 30 minutes posturing and biting the bars between them, erping threats across the divide. There’s nothing funnier than pissed off fuzzy rats. How can something that cute get so mad?

~*~

Everywhen is my new favorite word. I found it today in a Wikipedia description of “Dreaming” as defined by Australian Aborigines. What can I say? One click leads to another. I’m not even sure how I got there, but it’s been an interesting read.

Credit for coining the term goes to Emeritus Professor W.E.H. “Bill” Stanner (1905-1981), an anthropologist I fully intend to check out further.

“He coined the terms the "Great Australian Silence" and "everywhen" in the 1968 Boyer Lectures titled "After the Dreaming", reflecting on the silence on Indigenous Australians in Australian history after white settlement.”

Go Bill!

As I read more about this exclusion of the Aborigines' story from Australia’s historical accounts, I see the root of the problem is that the Aborigines were basically ignored as if they weren’t even there when the British were writing the history books - and the legal books - for Australia. Sound familiar Native Americans? How ‘bout you Maoris? WTF? Was I sleeping during this lecture in high school or are we so narcissistic in America that it was deemed too unimportant to include in the curriculum of basic education? Why were/are Anglo-Saxons so afraid of indigenous people, or anyone not of A-S descent for that matter? What put this insane fear into us white people?

My gut tells me it’s because somewhere deep in the subconscious we recognize that these are the people that can debunk the bullshit of organized religions and patriarchal hierarchies. These are the keepers of the Truth that remember how and why we are here, and if enough of us acknowledge that primordial Truth (because the memory will never completely leave our genes), there is fear that the Few will no longer control the Many. Oh, calamity. :rolls eyes:

Fear is such a twisted, ugly thing. Just look how it’s changed the tone of this entry already. I started out fine, now I’m pissed and upset. I don’t even want to be – this started out with a cool new word that I love the concept of. I gotta let it run its course now tho cuz I don’t want it sticking around.

Have you looked at any given politician or national religious figure lately and noticed their twisted visage compared to someone truly considered “good people?” Go look. Pay attention. The longer they’ve been at the game, and the more corrupt they are, the more twitches, the more immobility of their mouth, the more lines (aka lies) are written on their face. PR people can only hide so much with makeup and hair color and carefully chosen wardrobe. Read between the lines and on most accounts, you’ll find a shriveled, starving soul. It just makes me sad that there are so many like this. And it takes being outside that groupthink to see it. And if you’re outside, you’re spending so much time defending your position, how can you expect to live and discover and create? But that’s what they want – robots, not creators. :sigh:

My thoughts are that the solution lies in respect and acceptance among all levels of living beings. Yeah, this isn’t new info, even to me, but I’m just riding this train of thought to get it down in a communicable media because obviously there are still people out there that don’t get it and someday I hope to wake those people up.

Of course the key to respect and acceptance is an absence of fear, e.g., Love. We all have a place in the world, but our place is not all the same, and thank goodness for that! What a boring existence it would be if everyone was on exactly the same level. Peace can only come when all levels of beings respect all other levels of beings, and accept their Here-and-Now Place on Earth. That doesn’t mean they can’t move betwixt and between levels, just that whatever level they may currently be on, they still must respect the creativity of all the other levels. Guess I'm not respecting the level of the fear-mongering politicians, but it would be nice to just not have fear at all.

Humans. It’s no wonder the Gods weep sometimes. :shakes head:

Ok, I’m done with that.

~*~

I completed my 39th year on the planet yesterday, and with a gentle breath over sugar-laden candles officially celebrated my existence through another turn around the Sun. 39 doesn’t feel as old as it looks. Sometimes I wonder if because I can’t seem to sync up with the clock everyone else abides by, maybe time is counted differently for me. My hair disagrees, but there are means of persuasion for that and I’ve been considering them more seriously lately despite my vow never to go there. (Yeah, let’s pour toxic chemicals on our largest organ at the closest point to the brain! That sounds like a good idea! Take up smoking and go on a fast food diet too, why doncha? Meanwhile, Vanity whispers in my ear, “Red-gold is so much sexier than grey. No one’s gettin’ out of here alive anyway. C’mon, you know you want to.”)

The word “never” is always the kiss of death for my vows.

[Note to self: If I ever do acquiesce to marriage, make sure “never” is banned from the script!]

~*~

My Father’s Good Name is a brilliant UK duo working on their success story. The following is a reply I posted to Mike’s blog about his ex-girlfriend becoming engaged to the person she was cheating on him with. He’s hurt and angry, as anyone in that situation would be, and asks for opinions from the readers. I’m posting my reply here for archival purposes because these words reflect part of who I am and what I think about romantic relationships:

One of my most favorite sayings comes to mind here - When you lose, don't lose the lesson.

Relationships are so unique, each with its own set of trials and justifications, but personally I think they are what helps us evolve most here in this Everywhen, and so they are ALL worthwhile in some way. If you can come to see them as learning opportunities, for better or worse, then you will find yourself better able to enjoy the ups, and deal with the downs more constructively.

My own view is that each person in a relationship must be a Whole unto themselves, walking along a shared path. It's more of a "you compliment me" thing than a "you complete me" thing. I'm not sure sacrifice should be part of love; compromise yes. Sacrifice implies something you don't really want to do and normally ends up in resentment. Compromise is something you're willing to do; it may be uncomfortable, but it won't violate your boundaries. It's understandable why so many people don't know where to draw their line, and no doubt the line is blurry to boot.

I cheated once in high school and it didn't involve any sex, just a date with a guy that I'd been interested in for years, but we'd only been friends up to that point. I was found out by my boyfriend, in person, and the pain it caused me to see how much I'd hurt them both made me never want to burn the candle at both ends again.

On the other hand, I seem to attract cheating men like bees to honey and I haven't yet figured out why. Perhaps it's just the lot of those born with (natural) red hair and absentee fathers? :chuckle: It's taught me that you must absolutely be honest with yourself, know your own boundaries, and accept others for who they are. And I'm still learning.

Honor your anger, but don't let it eat you up. Put a limit on how long you're willing to feel it, then do what's necessary to move on, and be firm with yourself because the temptation will be there to slip into self pity. If your relationship with this girl didn't work out, that must mean it was only meant for a short while, not forever. Forever is a very long time, and outgrowing a relationship is not a crime.

In every situation, there is much to be grateful for. Imagine what it will be like to look behind you and see this relationship from the light of something more in tune with your boundaries and beliefs. Be thankful for the songs that will come of it (just maybe a #1 hit!), and the wisdom you'll now have for application in the next relationship.

Remember you can only control YOU, and you can't go wrong if love is your true intent behind your actions. Picture holding onto the lesson while the emotions sift through your soul and back into the universe. If you retain the knowledge gained in the lesson, chances are you won't have to repeat the course. :)

~*~

My 2007 Highlight Reel:

~ Traveled to San Jose in January to visit Mom (she was there for a work project) and discovered I LOVE Santa Cruz (but San Diego would still be first choice). Successfully completed my goal of sticking my feet in both oceans in this lifetime, communed with the redwoods (which was awesome), and updated my memory of San Fran from 6th grade. Also saw (from the highway) Apple Headquarters - the Mother Ship. ::cue celestial angel choir::

~ Went to Joe’s house in SC for a weekend of solitude in February and discovered how amazing it is to get lost in the stars while sipping chai on the deck, wrapped in blankets, even when it’s only 32 degrees out.

~ Mark and I went to Tempe in March and I got to see “the old place.” Confirmed that I don’t miss it that much, although it’s great to visit while the NE is still frozen!

~ Katy turned 18 in May so she’s officially an adult (just wish she’d act more like one!).

~ Katy graduated in June (thank God!) and my goal of making sure my kid at least has a high school diploma was met.

~ Tried to go to Marie’s first anniversary party in June, but the plane got grounded because of weather and since I was on a free ticket they couldn't reroute me. This started a trend of planes being grounded when I’m on them. If you have trouble getting out of the airport, check the roster and see if I'm on your plane. I will try to break this curse in 2008.

~ Took my second trip to SC in September for a Mraz concert at Converse College. Survived heart skipping several beats. I hung around early and watched them set up hoping to run into him, but no luck. My only regret is not staying after to see if I could untie my tongue this time. We would have so much to talk about, but I feel so guilty doing that knowing he’s tired after a show and not into meeting fans at that point, then there's that chronic shyness thing. Still absolutely an AWESOME time.

~ Mark and I had a rad Halloween party and I realized how many friends I’ve made at Pearson (very cool).

~ First class trip to Dallas in November to visit Marie & Scott and attend TRF with them. Plane was only grounded for a couple hours. Met Bud “the Commander” (former Hell’s Angel) and discovered another badass biker that turned his life into something awesome (and legal). I am duly impressed. Shit, I still have to get him a Rutgers tshirt and hat as promised.

~ Awesome New Year’s Eve party with many of the same friends from Halloween, plus some that didn't make it last time. Included the shouted countdown at midnight while the ball in NYC dropped on our TV. (Not literally.) Ending the year in a Kodak moment always rules.

My new mantra for 2008: More travel, less stuff.

I’m out! Thank you New York! Goodnight!

Brought to You by the Letter P

My mother recently moved from Austin (read: Big City) to the Four Corners area of New Mexico (read: Podunk). Most of my mother's family has lived in New Mexico for about 10 years, so I think this will eventually be a good thing for her (to be near more family), but right now I can tell the adjustment is taking a toll.

If I had to sum up my mother in two words, it would be Corporate Shark. All my life she's been the one running the show in big and small companies. She made crazy money and wasn't afraid to enjoy it. Now she's selling modular homes (read: Trailers) to people that generally live on the border of poverty. I'm not saying this is a bad thing (it was her choice, not a necessity), just that it's like taking a fish out of the ocean and expecting it to adapt to a cat litter box (a clean one).

What? If Darwin is right, we came out of the ocean and we're livin large in the litter, poopin up the whole planet too! Just because we had several generations to adapt and she only has several decades doesn't mean a thing. Pssshhhh.

She sounded discouraged in her recent email. Apparently selling trailers in the desert is not ALL THAT, and the slower pace of the area seems to be a concern (as I predicted). I know she'd rather be on the construction side of the real estate industry, but she tried that and found there are a lot of crooks that cut corners to make a few extra bucks. She decided she couldn't live with that, but she's been interested in construction since I was little so I had a hard time believing there's no way to fit these pieces together.

As I pondered her plight, I was reminded of the coolest thing since penguin cheeks:

http://www.earthship.net

My friend Amado introduced me to these homes many years ago and I've been dying to live in one ever since. Totally off the grid. Fully sustainable. CHEAP! (At least when compared to the insane real estate of the Northeastern Freezer I currently reside in.) They are so beautiful inside, and ecological, and damn, how awesome would it be to live like that?

I replied and told her she should get involved in making these the Next Big Thing. The Man with the Plan says they can be built anywhere. She would be doing something she loves in a niche that is less likely to rub her morals the wrong way, and contributing to the greater good.

Phukin A.

I went to Texas last month just before Thanksgiving. Marie (high school friend) & Scott (still has that new husband smell) sent me a plane ticket (first class - my friends ROCK) so we could go to TRF and hang out. It was an awesome weekend.

Marie is very Irish. Scott is also very Irish. Spike (as Marie affectionately refers to her first unborn child) is due on St. Patrick's Day. There's no irony in that AT ALL.

I have both Irish and Scottish blood in my woodpile. Needless to say, our normal M.O. at faire is to ride the pubs hard and put 'em up dry, but since the doctor said Spike doesn't need a head start on The Affliction of His People, this will forever be known as The Year We Were Sober at Faire. I think it was better this way. I certainly remember more of it. In high school we were party animals, but I barely drink at all now so I've become quite the lightweight. The last time I tried to keep up with Marie, well, it's a good thing Scott can stop the truck that fast. Being 18 for 20 years does not make you better at it.

While on the plane I wrote down a few random thoughts to share:

1. What do you suppose the protocol is for eating on an airplane? Do you observe the rules of polite dinner etiquette and wait for your neighbor's food to arrive before chowing down or is your seat your own little world so you should dig in before it gets cold? Does it make a difference if you're in coach or first class? I guess actually it would since first class is the only place you get fed on a plane these days.

2. Sneezing is kind of gross but we can't help doing it in front of others, so isn't it nice that someone usually blesses you each time anyway? And of course the power of suggestion just caused me to sneeze. Ew. At least I'm in the window seat and not stuck in the middle of two people with no proper way to turn.

3. They served ice cream as dessert and all I could think of was J's paradoxical love of ice cream and fear of any smell in the cabin being blamed on him. I passed on the ice cream.

The clock on the nightstand is glaring at me in disapproval, and the sheets are promising sweet dreams if I hurry up and snuggle in.

The stars have been especially sparkly the last few nights too. Good night stars. Thank you for looking in on me.

The Wind in the Hallows

4:44am. The house is finally quiet and the day ends like it began with me lying in bed listening to the wind playing in the treetops. It’s been a long day, but I’m still a bit wired and I can’t fall asleep so here I am writing.

We had a most triumphant Halloween costume party tonight. We’ve been planning for weeks, buying decorations and making arrangements, coming up with ideas for games, prizes, and decorations.

I woke up at 8:30 this morning to a huge tree crashing down in our neighbor’s yard thanks to the Santa Ana wind that’s made its way from California to our side of the Island. I’m glad to host the winds over here because it’s given the firefighters a chance to get things under control over by San Diego.

I went back to sleep after making sure nothing hit our house, and didn’t wake up again until noon, then the race against the clock began. Even with the best planning there are things I always forget so I had Katy and Mark running out to pick up stuff all the way up to the party hour. They were a huge help.

Jessica and I worked on the decorations most of the day and it came out really well.

I’ll probably be picking the cobweb stuff off of my furniture for days, and I might still be finding little silver skull and crossbones at New Year’s, but every time I find one I’ll think back to tonight and smile. It looked great with the pirate flag Rog painted for us hanging as the backdrop to the food table, and my huge old dictionary doubled as a very impressive spell book.

We kept all the alcohol on the kitchen island and it’s a good thing judging from how the floor looked by the end of the night. There will be much cleaning going on tomorrow, but I don’t mind that part a bit. The more cleaning to be done, the more fun you know you had and this place is a mess!

I labeled the party “DeathFest 2007” and explained this was to celebrate the death of all the things we’d like to let go of in our lives this year. I wrote in the invitation that everyone should bring a list of the things they wanted to “put to rest” and we burned our lists at midnight in the firepit on the patio. I was impressed at how many people remembered to bring a list, and glad that I could provide a way for them to at least take a step towards letting go of things that were no longer serving them in their lives. It wasn’t quite the ceremony I pictured in my head, but I think we made our point under the just-past-full moon.

We went through five boxes of hors d’oeuvres like it was nothing. The Jello shots were a big hit, as were Katy’s “Black Death” shots. Our magician friend, Ray, worked the party beautifully, freaking people out with his tricks left and right. He’s excellent at his craft. There was a good mix of guys and girls, and I think everyone moved about pretty well. I didn’t see too many sitting in one place for long. That thing I read about putting food in one room and drinks in another works really well to keep people mingling.

The costumes were great! There were several pirates and fairies, Dorothy and Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz, and Gene Simmons in the Kiss make-up days. We had a geisha, lots of ren faire costumes since many of us are into that, a bee, a clown, Johnny Depp from Pirates, and a military guy. My costume was Audrey Hepburn from Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Even though the dress wasn’t quite as slinky as the dress in the movie, I think people got the point with the big pearl and diamond necklace, elbow-length gloves (big mistake to wear gloves as the hostess - I can’t tell you how many times I had to whip them off to deal with appetizers and party fouls) and the long cigarette holder that was kind of the hallmark. I had a lot of trouble getting my hair in the up-do, but I think it was passable. Mark was a Rabbi and Katy was a pirate wench. They both looked fabulous although Mark had trouble with the beard and finally gave up and ditched it.

Overall I think the party was a great success - high five! I may not have stuck with college long enough to get a degree, but I damn sure learned how to throw a party. It is definitely a lot of work, but at the end of the day, when you’re laying in bed listening to the wind and reviewing the night in your head, and you can’t get to sleep because it was all just so cool, it is totally worth every detailed effort.

Pictures here.

The Path of Gratitude

I love this picture, despite it being slightly blurry. To me, it looks like the trees are reaching across the path to hold hands (or roots). I could go back and try to take it again, but it would be a different picture since some of the leaves will have fallen and lighting may be a little altered. I'm not good at remembering to take pictures because most of them get stored in my head anyway. It's nice to have a medium to share some scenes with others though.

The trees are really putting on a show this year. The reds and oranges are out in full force, accented by lovely yellows and fading greens. I really have to make good on my promise to myself to head up to Harriman Park for some picture taking this week. It's hard to get there after work since it gets dark so much earlier now, but maybe if I took my hiking boots with me I could make it in time.

I've been satisfying my need for nature with the Environmental Center in Wyckoff in the meantime. Three times I've been out there now towards the end of the day, and although the trails aren't much more than short footpaths, the scenery is pretty, the animals are friendly, and I have a favorite bench with a good view from which to record thoughts on the Mac.

I've had a couple people stop on the path and mention with amusement how out of place the laptop looks. They ask if I have Net access, which I don't. I think it's funny that they assume that's the only thing I might be doing on the computer. I wonder if it's a reflection of their own habits or a conjecture due to my age. It does feel a bit strange to be tapping away on a keyboard and have to brush aside the occasional leaf or bug, but it goes so much faster than longhand with less cramping in the palm. Technology rocks.

The deer don't seem bothered at all by my presence. They come within 10 feet and watch me giggle while they thoughtfully crunch on an acorn or three. They have very funny chewing movements. I'm almost sure if I remembered to bring some hazelnuts, the chipmunks might come right up on the bench and sit with me. I love watching their little racing stripes streak by and disappear into a hole I couldn't even tell was under the leaves. I can't imagine how they remember where all the holes are.

I can always find things to be thankful for, but there are days when I'm paying the Universe lip service, and then there are days I'm really feeling it. Today I was immersed in genuine gratitude. Everything that came to mind made me feel huge appreciation for whatever the thought of the moment was. I can't explain it in words. I wouldn't quite say I felt connected, but it was something on that level.

On my drive to work this morning all I could think about was how grateful I was to have such a gorgeous drive to take every day. It's only 15 minutes, but it's wonderful to be in the car alone with the sun bouncing off leaves and flowers, music playing and fresh air rushing in the windows. I take the back way because it's pretty, and by luck it's a couple miles shorter. The pace is slower which can be a detriment since I'm one of those people that is always late, but I'll take that over the highway any day.

Huh. I'm so tired I can't even think of what else I wanted to say. Guess I'll say goodnight then and get some sleep. One of these days I'll remember to get a handheld recorder to capture the more interesting things I think in the car.

It Just Suggests Happiness

I’ve had a very interesting week. Tuesday I was at Barnes & Noble proofreading in the cafe and a guy about my age came over and hit on me - gave me his card and told me he “just had to come flirt with me.” I haven’t had anyone approach me like that in years. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I was flirted with by a stranger. It was nice to know I’m still that attractive. The incident wouldn’t have been so weird by itself, but...

On Thursday I was at the mall and decided to get Starbucks before I left. As I was standing in line another guy came up and hit on me! This one looked no more than mid to late 20s. I was like WTF? I haven’t consciously been putting any of that kind of energy out there. He was probably a really nice guy but his tone of voice was a little creepy so I was nervous walking to my car in the garage, but it was all good. I figured he may have been talking like that because he was nervous.

Today was a beautiful day for an entirely different reason; I went on an apple picking adventure. I’ve never done that before and it was a fun new experience. It was a large group that went - about 25 in all. Kristy, who I work with, organized the outing. Most of the group were Kristy’s friends, and they were some nice folks. Jess (who also works at Pearson) and her boyfriend, AJ, are closer friends of mine and went with me in the car. We met the rest of them there. I was disappointed that Mark didn’t go, but I know these kinds of things aren’t his cup of tea and he had some obligations with his son this weekend.

It was like romping in a fairy tale. The sun warmed my skin, the orchard was full of monarch butterflies, and the apple-scented breeze followed everywhere you went. There is nothing more awesome than picking an apple right from the tree, polishing it up on your shirt, and getting sticky hands eating it out in the fresh air. If Eve had really existed, I couldn’t blame her a bit.

We found one tree that was loaded with fruit, and I ducked under the leaves to get a particularly fat beautiful apple. I found myself in a little alcove between the branches and it was so cool looking from inside out, greeness and sweet-smelling fruit all around... a very surreal moment. I could’ve stood there for an hour just taking it in. Made me wonder if the birds appreciate that view as much as I did.

The orchard was on a pretty steep hill and after hauling a half-full bag around for an hour we took a little rest. I picked up three apples to see if I could remember how to juggle. I was surprised it came back so easily. My friend Merle Hampton from high school taught me originally, but I haven’t tossed any beanbags around since I graduated. I miss Merle. None of our mutual friends seem to know what became of him. He was great at juggling and magic tricks. Anyway, Jess wanted to learn how to juggle so we spent a good half hour teaching her. She picked it up pretty well and by the end of the day she could get the apples around a few times before dropping one. It takes a lot of practice.

After running around the orchard all afternoon we went to dinner in Warwick. It’s a quaint little town (blink and you’ll miss it) and the restaurant didn’t look like much from the outside, but turned out to have amazing food. I had Caribbean seasoned pork chops - a little out of the ordinary for me, but wow it tasted good. My friends agreed that the food was deserving of their Zagat rating.

Most of the group went to a drive-in movie after dinner. That would’ve been fun, but the three of us decided to hang out at the coffee house around the corner instead. We had a great chat on the porch while sipping tea and lattes. Welcoming in autumn doesn’t get much better than that.

We brought a bushel of apples home and set them out on the counter, but quickly gave up trying to remember which was what kind. You can smell them all the way upstairs - it’s awesome.

I’ll tell you what too: a hot shower is more satisfying after you’ve been getting good and dirty all day out in the sunshine and fresh air. It’s like a special kind of clean. A good meal, good friends, and good conversation just make this day one for the books. My only regret is that I forgot my camera.

The $10 Chair

I realized recently it was time to stir up the chi in the house again, so I've been moving things around and purging closets. The pile bound for eBay and craigslist is quite impressive. If you ever feel poor, just drag everything out of your closets and estimate what it must have all cost. How could you possibly be poor if you afforded all that stuff you don't even use?

During this shake-down of the abode, I decided I was going to manifest a more comfortable reading chair for my bedroom. My wallet doesn't usually live up to my taste so a lot of the money I make on eBay gets spent in the same place. It's like magic really, turning your pile of old stuff into something new through virtual transactions. I love it. I take my stuff to the post office and it goes away to make someone else happy, then new stuff shows up in my mailbox to make me happy. I think the standard postal uniform should be robes and a pointed hat. Or they could use owls.

Sometimes you get a good story along with your item, like the Mumpy Couch story, or my $10 chair story last night. Those are the pieces you cherish because you can't buy a good story, some furniture just comes with a tale.

I've been looking for this chair for a few weeks now. You have to have lots of patience and ready cash to shop like this because you never know when it's going to pop into existence and you don't want to miss out. I laid out my specs to the Universe like I was placing an order.

I adore the chairs at Starbucks or Barnes & Noble because they're squishy comfortable and funky cool. I'm not sure if it's a factor of down-filled cushions or the number of butts that have contributed to their wear, but I could sit in those chairs for hours (and I have).

I've asked managers at both chains for a manufacturer name, but apparently they're sworn to secrecy even if they did have an answer. Google searches revealed mostly speculation with no true knowledge. My only choice was to go to Starbucks (twist my arm!) and memorize the lines and materials they choose, then compare my mental notes to hundreds of ads online.

I found a perfectly shaped moss green Mitchell Gold chair on eBay starting at $20, but it had several days left and a corner of the cushion chewed open (still fixable though). The chair lived about an hour away so I watched the auction until it went over $75, then I gave up. I was disappointed, but it was for the best because at the time I only had the faith that I could scrape together the cash, not any actual money.

A search on eBay the next day over a wider mileage range revealed a nice Broyhill chair in light green stripes, very nice curves, starting at $9.99 with no bids and only a few hours left. Awesome. I had plans that night, but I left the auction page on the Mac and made Kaytee promise to be home at 9pm to bid on it for me. I pestered her on the phone from Barnes & Noble for the last 10 minutes of the auction:

"Has anyone bid yet?"

"No."

"How bout now?"

"No."

"Awesome. Check it again."

"No, Mom, nothing."

"Did you refresh the page? Did anyone bid?"

"NO!"

Since I call this my $10 chair, you can already guess that we won the auction for only $9.99 as the sole bidder. This was an awesome deal. I thought the Universe really did me a favor with the price too because when I "placed my order" I said I wanted a chair for $50, knowing I'd go up to $75 for a really great piece, but also knowing I really shouldn't be spending that money at all with the bills I had due. This was a perfect compromise. But the Universe has a sense of humor and once you place an order you can count on getting it.

I paid for the chair right away through PayPal hoping the owner wouldn't back out when they realized their chair went for much less than it should have. The eBay store that was selling the chair on behalf of the owner tacked on another $5 local pick up fee so now my chair cost $15. Still an amazing deal for a brand name chair in a great shape and color.

This chair lived on Long Island, about an hour and a half away. Between bridges and gas it cost me about $25 to get there and back. Everyone else was busy the night I had to pick it up, so I went alone. A three-hour trip with Jason Mraz tunes repeated ad infinitum with no one else in the car to complain is my idea of an awesome drive, so I didn't mind.

The owner's address sounded like a single family home, so I figured no worries. I'm an experienced Mover of Large Things so I was sure I could find a way to get one chair out her door and into the car by myself, and if you look like you're really having trouble, most sellers will help you out a bit.

When I got there tho, the joke was on me because the owner lived in an upstairs condo, the chair was as wide as the entry stairway, and she had back problems so she couldn't help me at all. My brain was doing overtime but I couldn't think of a way to get it down the stairs by myself. It wasn't heavy, just awkward. She suggested several times that I come back with Mark on the weekend, but I wasn't defeated yet. I asked her to give me half and hour and she reluctantly agreed.

I drove a block away to an ATM and got some cash. In case you're reading this and you don't know me, you have to understand how horribly shy I am, and also how stubborn my Irish genes are about asking for help. Put the two together and it's a lot to overcome, but sometimes the need to get something done kicks my inner issues to the corner.

There were bars across the street and I saw a bunch of college-age guys standing outside of one. I was trying to figure out how to approach them without sounding completely lame when two guys and a girl came out of a nearby restaurant. They were discussing where to go next, so before I lost my nerve I jumped in and asked if they wanted to make a fast buck. They looked unsure of how to respond to that, so I quickly described my situation. In classic Long Island accents they agreed to help. They must've both had good, scary Italian mothers that taught them to help a lady in distress... or else they looked at me and saw beer money. My bet is on the beer money.

To the owner's surprise, I knocked on her door again inside of 15 minutes and the two guys and I went upstairs to survey the situation. One guy must've been in college for engineering because he asked if I had a tape measure, which I did (yes, I have everything in my purse, and he looked appropriately shocked). He measured the chair, measured the stairwell, directed the other guy to hoist the chair and tip it diagonally, and down the stairs they went like professional movers. They had the chair in my car in less than five minutes. I paid them $30 and thanked them, and the chair owner, profusely, then got in the car and breathed a huge sigh of relief as I headed home.

So remember I said I was going to spend $50-75 for this $10 chair? Let's add this up: $10 auction price + $5 pick up fee + $25 for gas & tolls + $30 for L.I. Italian Help = $70. And we'll have it cleaned next time they come to clean the carpets, so that will be even a little more.

I'm telling you, the lesson here is Reality may be malleable, but you gotta know what you're asking for because you definitely will get it.

By the way, don't judge me by the wallpaper. It came with the house. I think it's hideous, but it's a lot of work to take it down, so I've just rolled with it for now. I prefer a more southwestern/Mexican look, but that stuff is so hard to find on the bEast coast.

Big Basin Redwoods

This is a picture of me standing underneath a very tall Redwood friend in the Big Basin National Park near San Jose, CA. This was from earlier this year, but the picture just came up on my widget and it got me thinking.

These trees are so beautiful and have such a peaceful energy. I was sad to see evidence of fire inside most of their parted trunks. At first I thought it must've been an accidental forest fire, but later I learned they have controlled burns in the redwood forests. I was even sadder to know this was done on purpose. The rangers say it's to "help" get the seeds through the forest bed so they can root and grow more trees. I haven't studied forestry like they have, but this doesn't sound logical to me. You're going to damage the old trees so you can have new ones? There are ancient forests, redwoods being some of the oldest trees on the planet, that are twice a human's age and more, and they got along just fine before we started "helping" them. It just feels awfully conceited of us humans to think they need our help. The best way I feel we can help them is to admire their beauty, offer our love, and be careful not to ruin their environment, but otherwise leave them alone. Nature always takes care of itself.

I think the real problem is that humans are too resistant to change. They want everything to stay exactly as it is day to day, but change is inevitable. Forests evolve just as we do. The forests your children will enjoy may be different than the ones you grew up with, but it doesn't mean they're any less enjoyable. It would be so much easier if humans would learn to just go with the flow - roll with the changes and adapt. We're not all here to have the exact same experience, nor would we want to if that were actually happening. We should celebrate our differences, and the difference time brings to all living things.

If you sit inside one of these gentle giants and listen, you'll hear them whisper how you must bend with the winds of change so you don't break.

Obtaining the Perfect Star Tan

I’m at a friend’s house in South Carolina for the weekend. It’s built at the very top of a mountain, as evidenced by the rather treacherous gravel road you have to traverse to arrive at the garage door. I will definitely be in before dark each night because I can’t imagine going up or down that road with only headlights and no guardrails.

This weekend retreat of solitude was a Christmas present. Some friends think I’m weird for this, but I like to be alone more than most people. Not lonely, but alone. Big difference. Being alone gives me time to sort my thoughts, reconnect with my I.nner D.imension, and often leads to well written pages that will someday be published. (I literally laughed out loud when I realized I am on top of a mountain contemplating Life. How beautifully cliché.) Mark is a social butterfly and the traffic in our house resembles Grand Central Station, so alone time at home happens as often as the Yankees have won a Series this century. Yeah, think about that again.

This is the first time I’ve been to my friend’s house even though he’s been inviting me to come down for years. It’s every bit as gorgeous as others have said. A Great Room banked by a wall of windows overlooking the valley is the main attraction. My bare feet pad smoothly across cool hardwood floors, a perfect reflection of the vaulted wood beam ceiling. A small kitchen with custom cabinetry and all the modern conveniences opens to the side, and the pièce de résistance (besides the view out the windows) is a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace, in which my pyro self has stoked the wood into something like a magazine picture, thank you very much. Even though there are two bedrooms, I’ll be on the couch tonight so I can lay here with the fire crackling beside me, and the stars above through all those windows. I’ll probably regret it in the a.m. when Mr. Sun reminds me that he awakens much earlier than I do.

After settling in and making all the requisite phone calls to let everyone know I am not a retard with directions, I made myself some dinner and waited for the fire in the sky to disappear behind the mountain. About 8:00 I dragged one of the summer deck chairs outside, grabbed a blanket and laid back, warm mug o’ chai in hand, to watch the constellations watching me.

When asked to select a date to go on this trip, I blindly pointed at the calendar and came up with this weekend. As it turns out, this is the perfect weekend to be on top of a mountain because the moon has emptied its light into the stars, and the clouds have graciously taken their leave to another part of the globe for this evening. We contemplated each other for a good 40 minutes in the 32 degree air. The winter chill eventually found its way under my layers of sweatshirts and covers though, and I reluctantly bid adieu to the sky after a shooting star made the perfect finale on the curtain of the Cosmos. It was a grand show.

Tomorrow I must venture briefly back to civilization and procure speakers for the MacBook as there is no stereo here and the only thing missing from the evening was music. I enjoy a good potent silence like that of the redwood forest in California a couple weeks ago, but as with all things, it must be taken in moderation.

More thoughts as they come. Or not.

A picture of the windows in this amazing house: