Post Trip Blues

I am sad today. I think it's mainly because Cabo was so fun and it went so fast. So now I'm sad that it's all over.

I am sad for KM because she misses her fiancee, and because I know what the emptiness she described feels like. And I know how long those days are gonna be between now and then.

I am still sad about my dog. We saw a dog on the beach this past weekend playing the way Buck used to. And it made me miss him.

But maybe I'm not sad. Maybe I'm just tired.

My 15 Minutes

I made the Blogebrity List !!!
Well, it's just the C list but at least I'm there.

Gingham-Clad Hay Jumping

Today I am wearing a red and white gingham scarf-like head-band thing. It makes me feel youthful and jubilant. I feel like skipping. I feel like wearing cowboy boots and cut-offs and running in the sunshine.

One afternoon when I was little, my mom and I watched some 1960's Debbie Reynolds movie. My mother explained that Debbie Reynolds was Carrie Fisher's mom. My mother then explained that Carrie Fisher was Princess Leia. And since I planned on being Princess Leia when I grew up, this woman's connection to her made her infinitely more cool. My interest in the movie grew. I don't remember much about the movie's storyline, but I do remember one scene where Debbie Reynold's spunky young farm-raised character leaps from a loft-type thing in a barn into some hay below. The boy who is courting her watches this and giggles with delight. Then she giggles and the whole family giggles, and the audience really understands how sassy and fun-loving Debbie's character is. Well, somehow my red-and-white gingham head-band conjures all of this up for me. It makes me want to play in some hay. Preferably with a cute cowboy who will chuckle at my sass.

Matthew? Matthew Mcconaughey? Where are you???

I went to the dentist yesterday. I DO NOT like the dentist and always start a strict routine of crash flossing a month before my visit. This time, I musta done good because I got a, "Your gums hardly bled this time." Which I interpret directly to mean, "Your gums are in fabulous health." Call me crazy, but I have always been of the theory that if you DON'T poke sharp metal things into soft tissue, there won't be any bleeding...

And despite what any family members may think, I also got this comment: "You have a very small mouth." Yes, dear readers, despite how big my mouth can be figuratively,my mouth is smaller than average. Especially my lower jaw. I have had 4 teeth pulled from my lower mandible to make more room and still the teeth tend to bunch up together in the front. Dentists/Orthodontists/Mouth People like to point this out.

Well tomorrow I am off to Cabo for our second annual weekend of wholesome, pure spring-break style fun. And I go armed with my freshly polished teeth, a smaller than average jaw, the mental freedom of just having finished finals, and the spirit inspired by my memories of Debbie Reynolds hay-jump. It's gonna be a great trip.

KM told me this an in email today: "Let your heart be free and shamelessly make out with a tan man on the dance floor." I wouldn't want to let her down...

With Arteries Afire

After having spent many many hours this past week/end cramming for my Physio final, I've thought a lot about the inner workings of the body. And one area that we spent some time on recently is the Cardiovascular system, my fav. The other night I was driving home and one of my favorite songs came on, Night in my Veins by the Pretenders. And this got me thinking...the veins get all the attention. Do you know how many songs include veins in their lyrics? Here's a handful discovered via a quick google search:

Veins of Hell
Veins of Frost
Veins of Immortality
Veins of Glass
Night in my Veins
Blue Veins
My Veins are Open
In the Veins
End of Green Death in Veins
With Veins Afire

And we can't forget everyone's favorite scary heavy metal guy Alice Cooper and his poignant song Poison ("You're poison running through my veins!!!!!!")

I get the reference. When "vein" is used in a song it generally refers to something big and important. Something larger than life. Something worth struggling for. It's something that the writer/singer needs and must carry with them at all times. Something that is so much a part of them that it courses through their body. Like oxygen. Or maybe it's something they don't need because it's bad but it's too late because it has permeated their soul (insert dramatic music here). Like drugs or anything evil. Whatever they mean, the veins symbolize something getting spiritually, mentally, physically visceral.

But you never hear anyone talking about arteries. And frankly arteries are a bit more physiologically interesting than veins. Arteries do things like deliver oxygen rich blood so you can, you know, live. Obviously veins are important too. And if it weren't for them we couldn't get IVs when we're sick, we couldn't get blood tests, and intravenous drug users wouldn't know where to inject. But I think the main reason why people use the word "vein" as their symbol of choice is because it works better. That's all. "Vein" rolls off the tongue with ease. And it's got only the one syllable. And it rhymes with things like pain, rain, and sane (other popular song topics).

Sometimes art just isn't scientifically right.

The Best of Friends

Most of my friends and most of the people who read this blog know that for the last two years I’ve been slowly working towards becoming a nurse practitioner. And last Friday was officially the end of the marketing career path I have been on for the last five years. It’s been a long scary road, but I am very excited about putting more of my energy now towards the next career. And I want to thank a few friends in particular for their support. A few months back, I was having a really stressful, scary time in regards to figuring out the details of this. The Private, in trying to keep me from getting too discouraged, suggested that when I am ready to quit work, we do something to celebrate. While I don’t like to make people celebrate something on my behalf too often, the idea of celebrating something that was scary and exciting sounded fun. These plans evolved into going out to dinner with just a few closer friends. I didn’t want to make it too big deal. I expected a night of good company, good conversation and good food. That’s all. But I have to say I was thoroughly honored and touched when not only did my friends come to dinner for this, but they also had a really special, meaningful gift. They donated money in my name to Doctors without Borders!! DWB is the organization that I want to volunteer through when I am done getting my masters. And, regardless of my intention to be involved with it, DWB is a fantastic organization that helps people all over the world get the medical attention they need to survive. And sometimes, all that is needed is a vaccine or an IV. DWB helps saves lives and it is really special that my friends wanted to show their support (of me) while also donating to an organization that helps others and gives back to the world.

So Y, Hbo, Private and General: Thanks so much for your continued support. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.

And Y, please tell T I was really touched by the flowers. He most definitely didn’t need to do that, but I’m glad he did. I love them! Especially ‘cause it’s been a hell of a long time since a boy or ANYONE for that matter has given me flowers. So even if they are given to me by a friend’s boy, I’ll take it when I can get it.

A Link and a Smile

I have updated links! I want to link each and every one of you up in my love!

Happy navigating.

Sugar Magnolia, Blossoms are Blooming

I was out on my lunch break doing some errands today. When I went into the store the sky was full of May's June Gloom (AKA "May Gray"). But when I came out the clouds were gone, the sun was shining and all was right in the world. Driving back to The Man headquarters I had the windows down and the moon-roof open so I could more fully bake in that inland, Orange County heat. It finally felt like summer. And to celebrate I put in my Grateful Dead CD. Yes, it's true. I like some Grateful Dead songs. For the record, I am not a "dead-head." But that doesn't mean I never tried to be. I went through a phase when I was 16 where I wanted to prove (to myself) that I was more than just good grades and extracurricular service-oriented activities. I was going to hang out with the "bad" druggy surfer kids. And I was going to go to wild parties on the beach. And I was going to listen, and respect, the dark side of Kurt Cobain. And I was going to wear a Dead Head patch on my backpack. But, essentially, I was just a poser.

I did, however, genuinely like some of the music that accompanied this phase of my life. Operation Ivy, Bad Religion, Nirvana and The Grateful Dead always bring a smile to my face. And today it felt right to smile. I popped in my (only) Grateful Dead CD--their greatest hits--and sung along to Sugar Magnolia and Uncle John's Band. My mind wandered to these things:

My brother is starting to really fall for a girl. I mean REALLY fall. This has never happened before. He misses her and he wants to hang out with her and he doesn't want to date anyone else. It got me thinking...I forget how all that feels. I do remember that at one time I felt this way, but like pain and any other visceral emotion, I don't remember the actual feelings. And because I can't remember how it felt, the whole thing feels impossible and foreign...

After those thoughts my mind wondered to the horoscope I read last night in a recent edition of Elle. It said: "May calls for exciting new experiences--now is the ideal time to up the ante. Join a book club, take up photography, or enroll in French Lessons." I am already in a book club, I am into photography, et je parle francais. Check! Of course maybe I should just take Elle for what it is: a magazine full of pretty pictures of pretty girls with good eye make-up. Maybe it's best to not turn to its Astrological section for advise. But it would be fun to up my experience ante...

And speaking of upping the ante, my thoughts then turned to the future. Three days until I'm no longer a full time employee. And soon I'll be applying to schools in Southern and Northern California. I am curious to see how this plays out. For years I considered moving to the bay area. I never put a lot of effort towards that sort of move and subsequently it never happened. And then one day I realized I didn't want to move up there. I love where I live and the life I've created down here. And yet, here I am...about to apply to schools both here and there. I may not get in everywhere, so these questions may become irrelevant. But what if I do get in everywhere? Where will I choose?? Will there be a reason to stay down here? Or will I pick the superior program in the less favored area merely for its prestige??

Jerry Garcia asks several times in Uncle John's Band, "How does the song go??" He was probably referring to forgetting all the lyrics due to a drug-induced memory lapse. But today it seemed to be a relevant question for my whole life...how does it all go?

Well whatever happens, I'm going to forget that I forgot how to be infatuated and trust that one day I'll feel it again; I am going to try and increase my experience ante; and, I pinky-swear to remain excited about all the unknowns.

Love the Thug in Ya*

Wednesdays are my favorite day of the week because I feel like they are the only day that is truly and 100% for me. Monday night I am usually doing homework/studying. Tuesday and Thursday I have class. And weekends are generally filled with socializing and spending time with other people. So Wednesdays are the only consistent "me" time I've got. This generally means that it's a busy night. I try to go to the gym. I try to make a healthy dinner (which usually necessitates going to the store to buy food to cook with). I catch up on stuff around the house. I watch some of my favorite TV shows. I catch up on personal computer stuff (photo editing, uploading, my space, etc.). And if there's time, I read my book.

Wednesdays --> Fun; Wednesdays --> not always relaxing

Last night I came home after doing several errands and making several phone calls. I cooked a healthy meal, I plopped down to watch ANTM, and then remembered I had to take the trash out, bring the trashcans back in from the street and vacuum! Also there were dishes to do. I knew if I didn't do it last night, I wouldn't be able to until Saturday morning.

So at 9:30 I did a power cleaning job of the apartment, dusting and washing, vacuuming and sorting. While I was busy cleaning I got a phone call from my next door neighbor. Not TCN, but the guy in apartment 1. The guy who likes to have loud, late-night sex with his ex, the girl in apartment 3.

It was strange that he called because he never does that. Sometimes we text message but usually--since we lives next door--we just talk in person. He didn't leave a message so I texted him "you called?" He called back right away and said, "So, I'm trying to have loud crazy sex right now and you're vacuuming is getting in the way of my concentration. Can you arrange your cleaning schedule around my sex life?" The ex was laughing in the background.

It was all in good fun. And it's great that we can joke about their exhibitionist ways...but seriously, if anyone is going to inform anyone else of behavior, it should be THEM warning ME as to when THEY are going to hook up. Otherwise, those new brightly-colored Rite Aid ear plugs I just splurged on will go to waste.

*This title has nothing to do with this post. But I love the new Ciara song and I think that line is funny. Especially 'cause when I think of a "thug" I think of Vin Diesel. And I don't think I could ever love him. So I am not sure I will ever have the opportunity to say "I love the thug in ya." Except here on the frog, to you fine people.

Go See About a Boy

Once upon a time, a spirited 16 year old girl and her younger sister spent a summer in Costa Rica with some family friends. While on this trip, she met a boy. And they fell into a deep and passionate young teen love. They tried to have a little relationship and he even came to visit her back in the US after she left. But alas, time and distance separated them and their romance faded. But they never lost touch with each other. Letters and emails were exchanged over the years, tracing and relating the ups and downs of their separate lives. Through the beginnings and endings of other relationships, through graduations, new careers, and new homes, they remained connected. And one day ten years after they first met, their contact changed. It intensified and grew. And it grew and grew until one day they realized they still had feelings for each other. And then it grew some more until they fell in love all over again.

And today, 12 years after the first met, the girl is traveling back to Costa Rica to see her amor again.

KM: Love without abandon, regret nothing and enjoy the context of every single moment. It's time to go see about a boy.

The Power and the Fog

The other night I was lying in bed trying to fall asleep. My window was open and the complex was spectacularly silent. So silent that I noticed two things: 1) I couldn't hear the fog horn, and 2) I could hear louder-than-normal buzzing sounds from the large, nearby power generators. My mind started to wander--as it so often does--about how these two details would play out were my life a novel (remember, this is something I do).

I love the fog horn. It is used on some nearby, very-close-to-shore islands. The sounds make me feel like I'm living off of a some rugged, mist-shrouded coastline where lonely sailors must be carefully guided to shore. Of course the reality is much less romantic. I think the islands have something to do with oil drilling. But nonetheless, I find the fog-horn lulling, and I like the nights that are punctuated with those deep tones better.

I do not like the power generators. They hang from tall, splintered dark wood columns and are connected via large thick cabling that stretches out to streets and communities beyond. Their hums have come to symbolize for me all the bad things about industrialization. And I can't help but wonder if their crackling sends out negative energy that settles upon us and colors the happenings of our quiet little neighborhood.

A couple blocks up from our apartment there is a Buddhist temple. I am not Buddhist, but I like the little I know about their beliefs and philosophies. Sometimes I see the monks strolling up our street. They always smile and wave and I like their presence. They make up for the power generators.

There are some other interesting facts about my street that would play out in the novel of my life. Firstly, we almost moved to this street when we first moved to the LBC over three years ago. We liked one of the apartments about two blocks from where we now live. And P, my fling from our Cabo trip last year, actually did live in that very apartment complex.

And it's interesting how we found this apartment. I was driving back from a failed surfing attempt early one morning. I was tired and cold and worried about finding a new place to live. I decided to drive home a different way and took residential streets instead of the main one. I looked back and forth each time I crossed through an intersection, without finding much and without expecting to find much. As I approached my current street I looked at the name of it and had a good feeling. Not sure why. At this time, I didn't realize it was the same street P lived on and the same one we almost moved to three years prior. I looked first to the right and happened to swing my head to the left just before it was too late to see down the street. There was a big banner advertising a place for rent. What I saw in that instance didn't impress me, but I had a feeling I should go back. I drove up, parked under a big tree and called the number. The rent and the timing and all the other things we wanted in an apartment (at that time) were right. A week later we signed the lease. A month later we were living there.

I know I do not live in a novel. But if I did, a setting of an apartment complex like ours nestled between the coast and a Buddhist temple, bathed in the hiss of power generation and soothed by night-time fog-horns would be a good one. We almost lived here before. And I met, and once liked very much, a boy who did. And then we ended up moving here. All these things were unconnected but maybe there's some greater reason for us living here now. Or maybe it's just all coincidence. Either way, it's been an adventure.

I hope tonight is foggy.

in the tropics

How do you like my make-up?

Natalie Portman, Renaissance Woman

RAP (Natalie Portman)

She acts, she does accents, she poses well for pretty pictures...and she raps?

Visit the link below for something really, really funny.

Video Code provided by VideoCodeZone.Com

Love in the Time of Chai

I haven't posted for awhile due to a big exam and quitting my job. But I've been creating posts in my head since last week, and now today, I've finally had some time to actually write some of them. There are three new posts now, starting with this one:

I have a new addiction to obsess about: Chai Tea Lattes. This is actually a rebirth of an older obsession. And the reason for its renaissance is because of the book I'm reading: Shantaram. It's a great book based on a true story. It's called a novel, but I think that's just to avoid a million little pieces of disaster. The story details the life of a fugitive hiding out in India where he gets involved in the Bombay Mafia (yeah, they have one). Very good read. And I just found out they're making it into a movie starring Johnny Depp. But I digress.

In the novel, they drink a lot of Chai. This novel is over 900 pages long, so that's over 900 pages of me reading about Chai over and over. Which makes me want it. And so now a Chai addiction is in full swing. TDG has fantastic Chai Tea Lattes. And of course, there's always the old standard of The Coffee Bean. For a lower fat alternative, I also enjoy Trader Joe's powdered decaf version. It is a perfect low-calorie dessert for high-calorie days.

And because I am sure you were all wondering, I still love the fresh Roasted Tomatillo Salsa from TJ's. In fact, I love it so much that I am only letting myself eat it on the weekends. If I didn't relegate consumption to Saturdays and Sundays, I would RUIN my stomach lining.

Wedding China and the Anti-Bride

I have a confession to make. I have decided to take on another TV show. It kind of snuck up on me...and really, I have ABC to blame. They stuck an episode of What About Brian in the Gray's Anatomy time slot. And I watched it. And now I like it. And now I look forward to watching it. Which is a problem because I don't have time to watch it. C'est la vie, n'est-ce pas?

A recent episode featured one of the couples searching for china to include in their wedding gift registry. And I came to this realization: wedding china is dumb. While I do think it's nice to have a more formal set of plates and bowls around for nice occasions, I don't get why it's become this thing couples do when they get married. It's like they do it because that's what they should do. Because that is how it's done. But the whole concept of getting new fancy china that will probably hardly every be used--just because you're getting married--seems to me like something out of the 50's.

Which got me thinking...I can't think of a single wedding tradition that I like*. I don't want any of them at my wedding. No bouquet toss, no borrowed blue garter belt, no cake smashed in my face. It's just not for me. Somewhere between childhood and 27 I became very turned off to these little cliché traditions. And now I'm like the anti-bride. Of course I'm not married or engaged. In fact, I'm not even dating anyone...which brings me to my next little story (see the next post).

*This is all just my opinion on the kind of wedding I one day would like to have. I realize some people like these traditions and will want them at there weddings. And I am in no way trying to insult or criticize anyone else's opinion on what traditions to include or not. If a friend wants to do the something borrowed/something blue thing, I will loan something blue. And if a friend does the bouquet toss, I'll try and catch those flying flowers. And if cake is smashed, I will genuinely smile and
clap encouragingly. I am in full support of anyone else who wants the traditional set-up.

Honestly, I want the Bad One

I went on a date about a month ago with a nice guy. I actually enjoyed our conversation and I think he did too (three hours went by like minutes and he wanted to keep talking at the end). During the conversation we discussed why girls like bad guys. He had some pretty strong opinions on the subject, as do I, and it led him to ask me this question: "If you were on the TV show Lost who would you side with, Jack, Lock or Sawyer?" (we had already both established that we watch the show. And for those of you who don't, these men all represent various archetypal levels of "good guy" and "bad guy").

I knew what the right answer was. But I also wanted to be honest. So I said, "I'd choose Jack. ...But I'd WANT to choose Sawyer." (Translation: I'd chosen one of the good guys but I'd admitted wanting the hot/bad one. Just for a little while. On the side.)

I think I failed his test. Neither of us called the other again.

I was just being honest though...and honesty is never bad, right??