Shelves in the Closet

Game ON!

2011-09-20T16:24:00.000-07:00

I've realized something about myself recently.

See, some friends and I have gotten into the habit of playing this certain board game well into the night. Like stupid unthinkable hours of 2 and 3am. I am luxuriously unemployed so I'm not accountable to much except my sleep cycle but my friends are med students and actual contributing members of society so they have a bit more at stake than I do.

Anyway - the first time this happened and one of my friends recounted the previous evening to my brother he didn't believe it. "My Sister? My sister who loathes board games? My - my? Sister?". Apparently it took about 20 minutes to convince him of the veracity thereof because on the whole, I don't care for board games the way some of my constituents do. I've found tons of excuses not to like them. "I like movies better", "I'm not smart enough", "too many pieces", "that's a boy game", "my brother played that game and we didn't get along too well", "It's not fun for me" (and I stand by this one. There are some games that I find more tedium than fun.), "I'm not patient enough for this game" - etc....

But when I thought about this I realized that I DO like board games. I like them a lot as a matter of fact. I just have little patience for them or limit my interaction with them because (and this is the recent realization) is what I DON'T like is how competitive I am. I find myself getting overly competitive, upset, and generally being a nasty unhappy person when there is a point structure in play. For this reason I avoid games because I don't like that part of my personality. I think that's a major reason that I stopped playing water polo. I flat out didn't like who I was when I played. She was an angry Liz.

However, this new game doesn't bring out that side of me. I don't know if I've matured (which is a possibility) or I genuinely like the group of people with whom I'm playing it but, yeah - Game on!

These are a Few of my Favorite Things

2011-09-09T00:03:00.000-07:00

So it's been another difficult week with a fruitless job search, a fresh heatwave, some nasty PMS and the "I" key deciding to pop off my laptop*.

However my years of Polyanna Training are fighting hard against the reds and as such I came across this article via a friend's Facebook feed and it got me feeling all warm and fuzzy.

See, Disneyland has been a serious boon to me, especially during this and my previous bout of unemployment. 1) because it's simply a lovely escape. I get to forget that I'm a near-insignificant college grad who is doing little more than existing and trying to pretend that it's not a big deal and 2) I get to be a part of visiting friends' vaycays and be the Disneyland guru.

See, I'm one of those rare Annual Pass holders that also used to work at Disneyland. Many moons ago, before my mission and exploration into adulthood I worked on Main Street peddling collectible Disneyland items, mainly Time Pieces and Jewelry. I also spent a good amount of time with Crystal, China, Silhouettes, and Disneyana. Yeah - I was one of those people. I left when I went to go serve in Washington DC and during my tenure there I saw a number of things that could have disenchanted a lesser being with Disneyland. I'm not sure what I'm legally able to talk about considering they made me sign a stack of paperwork an inch thick when I first started there and even 10+ years later I still feel emotionally obligated** to keep up the "Show" for the kiddies of the world.

The time I worked there was a time that I felt any and everything was possible and when I go back I still feel that. I've been a passholder for years now and in the spirit of the article above I'd like to tell you My Top 10 Reasons Why I Love Disneyland in no particular order or ranking.

1) The Music
After you elbow your way through Main Gate and past the tourists congregating in front of the flowered mosaic Mickey*** you go through one of the two tunnels on Walt's version of a red carpet and all 5 of your senses are washed in a whole new world (hehe). You smell the vanilla coming from the Candy Palace, you see the amazing gardens and Mickey and whoever else walking around hugging people, you feel cooler because there are all of a sudden groves of trees on either side of you and then - you hear it. You hear the train whistling behind you and the Music of Main Street inviting you in. There is a chipper loop of "Wells Fargo Wagon", "Put on your Sunday Clothes", and happiness constantly going on in the background. If you're lucky the Barbershop Quartet might also be out or Alice and the Mad Hatter having a Rag Time moment by the Coke fountain. EVERYWHERE you go at Disneyland Walt is humming to you. He seemed to figure out exactly what your heart might be singing in every corner of the Park and attached speakers to it. There's the constant Jazz in New Orleans Square, the tin drums in Adventure Land, Aaron Copeland's "Rodeo" in Frontier Land, every princess' song ever in Fantasy Land - it's all there. There is always something to hum along to, something to take you back or take you away and I just love it.

2) Strawberry Ice Cream from The Gibson Girl

I'm not typically a fan of strawberry ice cream. I'm usually firmly in the vanilla/chocolate/caramelized side of the spectrum but for some reason the strawberry ice cream at Disneyland eclipses them all. I make room in my money and calorie budget for a serving at least once every 3x I go (I go pretty often). It has magic in it. I could write a whole food blog about Disneyland "Eating My Way Through The Magic" and I might as a follow up to this but this is the most noteworthy methinks.

3) Churros

I lied. I need to talk about churros too. There are some foods that in the real world I don't regularly seek after or like at all but in specific places they're all I want. If I'm at Dodger Stadium, I want a hot dog. Would I eat a hot dog anywhere else? Nay - but at Dodger Stadium it's all I want. On a plane I only want to drink ginger ale. At Disneyland it's churros. Where else can that baseball bat of warmly fried cinnamony sugary goodness be openly consumed. It's almost required. When the nice lady at El Pollo Loco asks me if I want flan or a churro with my two tacos al carbon and a brc I firmly say NO. It doesn't seem right, like I'd be cheating on my Disneyland churros if I stooped to a non-Disneyland churro. They're the food of childhood dreams. Anyone who says differently has never had one or simply doesn't get it and needs a timeout.

4) The Story

I could speak for days about my devotion to stories. I'm essentially dedicating myself to them seeing how I want to teach, have a degree in English, and am of a Celtic Bardish background. They seem to be the only thing I'm suited for. I recently finished some unique comics called "The Unwritten" and at one point a villain is monologing and the kid hes captured doesn't really get the full ramifications of his situation and says "It's just a story. It's not worth dying for" and the villain replies

"Just a story? Tell that to the Greeks who fought at Troy. Tell the women burned as witches. The Rosenbergs. Sacco and Vanzetti. Tell the martyers of all the religions and the millions who fell in all the wars since time began. Stories are the ONLY thing worth dying for."

I agree. Walt understood this and I truly believe that it's at the heart of Disneyland. We all love stories. We crave them. They're how we learn, how we cope and how we're hopeful about the future. We identify with them and bend our lives to look like them. They inspire us, comfort us and remind us that the world is a whole lot bigger than it typically seems. We feel the people in them are our friends and to a degree they are. Disneyland is a place where that corner of our imagination has ground. We get to, in a very real sense, BE in our favorite stories. The ones where we know the endings and love them. We get to see the White Rabbit's house. We get to get into Indiana Jones' jeep. We get to board a transport to Endor. We get to go into the castle and you know what? It's marvelous. It's how it should be. It's childhood and Disneyland wrapped up in a castle spire. Every ride, every line for every ride, is a story in which we're characters and that means the world to me.

5) The Jedi Training Academy

So how is the only way that Disneyland could possibly get any cooler? Oh right - by contracting with George Lucas. I think there are fewer larger nerd eruptions than when Disney devotion and Star Wars devotion meet and it happens 4x a day in Tomorrow Land. The Jedi Training Academy is something I dearly wish I could have had when I was a kid. The stage and dance floor at the Tomorrow Land Terrace are taken over by a Jedi, four Paduans and a flury of kidletts that are selected, outfitted, and lightsabered to be instructed by the Jedi on a light saber combination and then out of the ground comes Darth Vader and Darth Maul and every kid gets a chance to fight the evil Lord Vader. Can you think of anything more formative and empowering??! They all beat him but not before Vader does his best to entice all of the Younglings to join the Dark Side. They all decline, Vader is expelled, and all the kids are presented to their parents and onlookers as the newest recruits in the Fight for Freedom in the Galaxy. I cry every. Single. Time. DON'T JOIN THE DARK SIDE KIDS! Have you ever seen a 4 year old in a kid in a tiny brown cloak battling his heart out with Vader with a plastic light saber? My ovaries ache every time I do. It's Good Parenting 101 and about as wholesome as the world gets.

6) The Prince and Princess bathrooms in Fantasy Land.
There are bathrooms specifically for Princes and Princesses. In a Castle. I would like every bathroom ever from here on out to be referred to for Princes and Princesses. The world would be a better place.

7) Fantasmic

I'll be honest. I've seen this show a number of times. I think I'm in the multiple hundreds. When I worked in New Orleans Square I saw it twice a night and you know what? I'm not sick of it. As a matter of fact, I desperately love it. I love every thing about it. It's a great story. It's on a RIVER! Well - "river". You get to cool off via the spray from the jets/movie projection screens. Mickey kicks a dragon's trash by asserting "This is MY story" (see #4) and the music (see #1) is about as good as it gets. I may or may not know every note and every dance move and during one sparsely attended fall performance some friends and I may have taken over the wheelchair area (we were there legally) and danced and sang the whole show. In my opinion it remains the best show at Disneyland (including World of Color).

8) The Dinosaurs

Did you know there are dinosaurs at Disneyland? Bet you didn't. However, if your feet have ever been at the falling off point (a frequent occurrence at Disneyland) and, in desperation, you take the railroad back to Main Gate to avoid another hike through people and the park, somewhere in between the Tomorrow Land stop and Main Gate Walt takes you back. That's all I'll say because it's that cool.

9) The Striking of the Colors
A little known tradition on Main Street is the Striking of The Colors. Like any good solider knows, when the sun is down the flag comes down too. Walt, being the real patriot that he was, made sure this would ALWAYS be the case at Disneyland. Whenever time the sunset is, the Barbershop Quartet and the Main Street band invite everyone on Main Street to gather around the flagpole. We sing a few patriotic songs and then they invite everyone that has served in the Military to come forward to the inner circle of the square, right by the flag pole for special recognition by the crowd and to be the first to grab the flag as it's lowered. They call them up one branch of the military at a time and you see everyone from young dads on leave laden with sippy cups and still freshly shaved heads to silver-topped old men in Tommy Bahama shirts and fishing hats walking with canes coming forward with the same pride and respect. We clap for each of them and thank them in turn for their service. Then they stand at attention (well, most of them) and a color guard strikes the colors while everyone sings "God Bless America".

By then everyone is pretty much in tears and I'm prouder than ever to be an American, to have been walking amongst these heroes all day and not even known it, to remember that my day of larking and freedom isn't all that free. It's an amazing way to end the day and to keep the love flowing.

10) The King Arthur Carrousel

There are a multiplicity of rides that I love at Disneyland (Space Mountain, Big Thunder Mountain (but only at night), Peter Pan, the canoes, the Mark Twain...) but the one that truly has my heart is The King Arthur Carrousel and I don't really know why. I'm a sap I guess. It's just this lovely traditional ride. Also, Mary Poppins is one of my favorite Disney movies and I've always wanted a magical carrousel horse ride like Jane and Michael. The lead horse, Jingle, on the carrousel is even dedicated to Julie Andrews. That's just classy. It's the heart of Fantasy Land which is the heart of Disneyland which is the heart of the Disney Empire. It's the concentration of simplicity and innocence and thrill all in one.

Because this is in conjunction with the spirit of The Carrousel, is

10a) The Fireworks
They're perfect. Some shows are superior to others like the Christmas show (Christmas in general at Disneyland is a whole other blog) but few things are more thrilling, beautiful and evocative of wonder and delight than the Disneyland Fireworks. Like the blog aforementioned said. If everyone everywhere had the chance to see them all at once we'd have a real shot at World Peace.

God bless Walt and God bless Disneyland. Keeping hope alive since 1955.

*I spent a good hour and a half using two pairs of tweezers, a reading light, and my best impression of a surgeon to reattach it. I think I did a fine job considering all I had to work with was an online tutorial, my mad puzzle skills, and some gumption but it's still a bit tender.

**I still scan the crowds for people who look lost when I'm there. I still offer help and when giving directions I still point with two fingers or gesture with my whole hand like my meticulous Disney training dictates (We have a lot of international guests you know - don't want to offend anyone with a single digit hanging out there). Oh - and they're still "guests". The word "customer" is the rudest idea possible. I've seen a lot of a lot of different things and I'd be happy to tell you in person but not in print (the Mouse is everywhere).

***I made the mistake of crossing in front of Mickey going on a break once and got innundated with a gaggle of Japanese tourists asking me to take their picture. It was hilarious but took up my whole break. I made sure never to do that again.

Something Fun

2011-09-05T17:26:00.000-07:00

There is not enough silly dancing in the world so this made me very happy.

Daily challenge: Do something silly preferably with someone who will do it with you and report back in the comments. GO!

It's My Birthday Shout "Hooray" - Installment III

2011-08-25T22:53:00.000-07:00

Around the beginning of July I was thinking

My birthday is coming up and I'd like to have a party but I'm afraid that if I threw a party for myself no one would come. Parties are like nicknames, they kind of have to be thrown for you. Who would throw me a party? All of my girls are out of town. Maybe Nick. Has Nick ever thrown a party? I threw him a pretty amazing Star Wars birthday party for him in December. I even learned how to make an orange creamsicle cheesecake for him. It would be nice if he could return the favor.

However, knowing my amazing brother like I do, he excels in many things but emotional intuition isn't one of them. He would never put it together that because I threw him a party it would be amazing if he returned the favor. So did what any mature woman would do. I texted his girlfriend (now fiance) and explained myself and said any help she could offer in helping him understand where I was coming from would be appreciated. I couldn't have picked a better future sister-in-law because she and he came through like nothing else.

Nick has the amazing good sense to marry Amy Burch. I have been friends with the whole Burch family for the last 15 some years. They know me very well too and Amy has 3 older sisters all of whom I count among my nearest and dearest. So she circled the wagons and asked for party ideas and the amazing Hannah came up with the idea of making it have a Club 33 theme. For those of you who don't know what Club 33 is here's a link and a brief history lesson. Walt, when he built Disneyland wanted to have a place for him and his buddies so he set aside some space in New Orleans Square where he hand his boys could have a drink and a cigar. It's evolved into a very fancy exclusive restaurant and one of the best places at Disneyland. So basically it's everything I love. Disneyland, jazz, dressing up, good food, and a quite place.

This all translated very well for a birthday party. I didn't put it together that I was turning 33 and it was Club 33 for a good hour or so. I was just so thrilled at the idea of a cocktail party. Nick sent out the invite, told everyone to dress up, that the dress code will be enforced and be ready for fun. Well naturally I had the best time finding a new dress (which was lovely and on clearance!) and practicing a new smokey eye look (which turned out very well).

We had it at one of our friends' amazing house, Nick and Amy got plastic champagne glasses and bucket loads of Martinellis. Our engineer friend made an expert tower of glasses. My awesome pastry chef friend made some amazing desserts, they got a mini marzipan cake for me and yes - people showed up. I wasn't allowed to help with anything. All I was told was where to be, when, and how to dress. Nick and Amy handled the rest. I was surprised to learn that this was the first party Nick has ever planned. Some of my nearest and dearest were out of town so Nick, sweetly arranged for all of them to, too, dress up and had them join us via a Skype video conference call. This was a total surprise for me. I cried one, because I missed them all so very much and two, because how sweet is my brother?!

You can't see the whole 30+ company of people that Nick gathered into the living room to see the surprise with me but they're there and I was touched. I was on the verge of grateful tears all night.

There's all 4 my new sisters looking as pretty as ever.

We had a bunch of other rogues that came through dressed up amazingly but sadly I was having too much fun being glamorous and loved to snap a lot of pictures. Here's a sampling though.

The Todd came in an awesome plaid get up and Joe chose some formal digs from his recent jaunt to India. Nick almost didn't let him in but he eventually passed dress code.

Nick and Amy being as cute and in love as ever.

The Emily x2

There really isn't anything more envigorating to me than a room of men in suits, ladies in dresses all of whom I love and all of whom are having a good time. It was a real gift how many people came and how well they dressed up.

One of my favorite moments of the night was when Emily and Joey came. They had just come from eating at Club 33 that afternoon and between the both of them they swiped all of the gold embossed Club 33 paper towels in the bathroom there and presented them in one fell cluster out of her purse. It was an amazing moment and we were beginning to run short on napkins. Serendipity? Methinks so. Walt knew we were having a party and wanted to contribute.

I took a moment more than once to pause, look around at my favorite people, listen to the buzz of them all enjoying each other, all looking so nice and quietly soaked up as much happiness as I could. I figured it would be good to keep a little bit of that contentment close to my heart to pull out when it's a less than ideal day. And honestly, how much better does it get? Maybe if Jon Hamm was my escort...

This was a remarkable birthday. Joey, Emily's sweet husband, said "I don't say this unless I mean it but Lizzie, you get better looking every year. Some people can't say that but for you I can say that I see constant improvement." He's very good at saying all the right things. I'm also choosing to believe that hes right. He is a pastor and all. He can't lie and stuff. I think the best is yet to come and with enough belly laughs, hydration, skin care, good friends and prayer each year can improve. My 30's haven't been the easiest but I can't complain because they've also been the most fun.

Best of times worst of times and all that. If the Dickensian circumstances persevere then so be it because with friends, family and nights like this I'm pretty sure I can weather anything. If you're ever on my side of town just say the word and I'll be back in my heals and satin for a reprise.

All in all I think Walt would be proud.

It's My Birthday Shout "Hooray" - Installment II

2011-08-25T20:39:00.000-07:00

Medieval Style!!

I'm an avid Angelino. I love LA and anyone who has ever had more than 5 minutes of conversation with me typically might understand that. However, there are a lot of landmark things here that I've never done. I've never been to the Griffith Park Observatory. I've never hiked to the Hollywood Sign. I've never been to Grauman's Chinese Theater. I've never been to Universal Studios and the worst one, up until a few weeks ago I had never been to Medieval Times.

It's a tragedy. I know. I'll own it.

BUT - to my rescue was, again, the amazing Emsy. She took a friend of hers a few weeks back and had the time of her life as you can read about here and upon learning my ignorance to the glorious silly, me adoring things like that, and it being my birthday she had me get the special super secret birthday code from the "Booking Maidens" at the "Court Circuit board" and away we went.

She gave a fabulous rundown of our night here but my experience was a bit different. Mostly because I was enjoying the armor instead of figuring out ways to get under it. I know - I'm broken but it was my first time after all.

So in preparation for the night my little sister from another motha - Lisa - sent me a darling birthday package with a purse of hers I'd been lusting after for a while and because she knew of mine and Emsy's plans there were also some Princess Party favors including 4 sparkly pink wands, 4 foam tiara kits (for ages 5 and under) and a very large sparkly hot pink conical Headdress of Princessistitude.

I was super excited about it all. One, because time with Emsy = non-stop hilarity. She gets my Disney channelified brain better than almost anyone I know and as such thinks I'm hilarious because only about 0.00001% of the population and 0.0005% of my friends get my very silly/sad/awesomely bad jokes, references, and song cues. Emsy is one of them. This will manifest itself later.

So we drive to the "castle" and I'm all a dither about what to expect. From what I could gather from Emsy's description I was diving into what would happen if Las Vegas, Rocky Horror, Monty Python, Point Break, a sequin street vendor from TJ, and a badly translated book of fairy tales and all ran at each other very fast. The stuff of dreams really.

Just knowing that this place is in Buena Vista which is a neighboring city to Anaheim which is Latin for "Disneyland" and thereby is subject to the runoff of over-themeing that a place as magical as Disnelyand can produce would be enough to get me to go. See, Buena Vista is the sparkly armpit of the Disneyland supermodel. Driving through Buena Vista always reminds me of "Lester's Possum Park" from A Goofy Movie

The city's crown jewels are the Ripley's Believe it or Not Museum and Knott's Berry (Scary/Merry) Farm. We were in for a GOOD night.

When Emsy and I were roommates we bonded instantly over our love for things that are so bad they're good. Eg: how well unicorns changed into anime women can sing about being a woman, cast commentary on DVDs from totally drunk or inept cast members, random parts of Disney movies, Smee's dance moves, the pronunciation of the word "pistachio" and how much the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland legitimately freaks me out. Seriously. It does.

I think Medieval Times was built as a monument to our friendship and it wasn't realized until now.

From the playground style cobblestones to the over-tanned and Valley affectations of our princess I was in love. You know you're either in Vegas or a comedy club when the first middle and last thing that you see at the establishment is the bar and was there a bar. I think it was 3 miles long. You'd think all of the high ceilings, random banners, vague impressions of suits of armor and a castle silhouette here and there would be enough to suspend reality but NO, apparently significant amounts of alcohol are required as well and it was busy. Every square foot of it. The place was awash with everyone wearing a crown that would make the Burger King jealous indicating the color of the section and knight they were assigned to. This fashion statement was delicious to me. One, because they all so badly clashed with everything anyone was wearing. Like, I wasn't sure there was something in the universe that wouldn't go with anyone or a single look but no. Medieval Times found it, made it theirs, mass produced it and made it the central point and chief souvenir of your experience there. Two - because it was very successful in making everyone look equally silly. That was also impressive.

When we got into the arena I was still off balance. Here we were in a hockey rink full of sawdust with the semblance of stage weaponry resting on pegs on the side and above us was a whole matrix of I would venture to say would be millions of dollars of stage lighting. I was a theater tech for a spell so I know what I'm looking at when I look up in a theater. Some theaters are drastically under lit. In fact, most are. It's uber hard to properly light a stage. It's rare to over-light a stage but I think Medieval Times came close. There was more lighting in there than I'd seen at the Staples Center during a Laker game and I thought What on earth would they need all this hardware for? They're not more than 50' from the floor, they're all antiprose gel lights, good grief are they going to perform surgery? Turns out they didn't. They just like colors.

So the night begins and there is this scene where some dude in a white tunic and too much hair gets apprehended by some baddies with whip and sparkly strobe lights and then our gymed, tanned, laundried princess comes on a-pining for her prince that is missing - moaning to her father-blah-de-blah-de-blah. And I, like any proper English major immediately start rewriting the whole show in my head. Thinking this would provide more rising action and that would be much better character development but not to the point that I didn't adore everything that was going on.

When we sat down I dispensed the wands and tiaras to Emsy and myself and our neighbors who were also celebrating their birthdays (yay Leos!) and we mucked about with our foamys and stickers and eventually made something worth putting on. I threw away the picture guide so we were a bit monkeys and a monolith about the whole project but we had fun. So once the gallantry started I had my sparkly conical Headdress of Princessistitude, my Medieval Times crown AND the tiara. I was as regal as they come or as Medieval Times would allow. Oh and my wand. It was a rare exploration of sparkles and the color pink for me. I rarely visit either much less pair the two but it was a special night and Lisa sent them all the way from Tennessee. Wearing them was the least I could do.

While we were being brought some soup and our choice of Pepsi (only Pepsi, only regular, only soda), iced tea, water, or the door there were... horses I think. Lots of them, trotting a bit in formation, much like a high school marching band running drill. That they just got. After a long competition weekend and a test. For 20 MIN! All I could think was Well - look at those horses. They're there. And they're horses. And they can trot. TALLY HO! It's my birthday!

Finally the announcer man who we were introduced to at the beginning of the night by the bar came riding in. At the first announcements Emsy and I bravely tried not to laugh but bitterly failed. He was trying to warm up the crowd, create atmosphere and organize green crowns from yellow and black ones but all he managed to do was practice what Mr Movie Phone taught him in his voice lesson that day and channel William Shatner. Between his over-elocution, Emsy trying to gloss my lips but only finding teeth, and the half-hearted trumpeters that sounded more like 1st and 2nd chair from the Boy's Club band we were in hysterics within the first 5 minutes. Yes we're 14 but that's what happens when bffs get together OK?!

So fast forward to the knights' introductions. Emsy was only looking for red and I was enjoying her in a rarely allowed abject girly moment. Lusting after boys with swords wearing tiaras, eating with our hands and sparkles EVERYWHERE - its enough to make one burst into song!

I found most of the knights to be some kind of handsome. I especially appreciated the ones with beards and not just the long locks. I really appreciate a thick, kept up, manly beard. There is an epidemic lack of testosterone in the world. I appreciate it wherever I can find it. Aside of their manliness, which is impressive any was conveyed despite the sparkly jumpsuits that were supposed to be chain mail and sequins these gents were pretty dang good. They were jumping off of their horses at full gallop, hitting the ground and rolling so fast they landed on their feet. I was blown away. The fighting was... OK. I think the best stuff that I saw was the final fight between the green dragon baddie and Emsy's Red Knight. He was the best fighter of them all and was with the handsome but luckily Emsy and I have VERY different taste in men. She's more on the Bowie/Jonathan Rhys Meyers side of the spectrum and I'm the more Karl Urban/Richard Armitage/Jon Hamm type.

Between costume changes and rough scene transitions everything but a puppet show came out. Some sparkly Arabian horse man came out with his steed doing the two step, there was a falconer too and other excuse for sparkles. The music changes were something from a fair ride too. One felt distinctly Latin to me and out of no where I started singing "I like to be in Ah-Mer-Ree-Kah!" and Emsy did a legitimate spit take and almost lost the bit of garlic bread she was working on. Once she stopped laughing she said "You will be the death of me Libs (that's her awesome nickname for me) and I considered it the crowning point of the evening.

I was not mooned over by any passing knights or thrown any flowers but I was also in a sparkly conical Headdress of Princessistitude, wearing a Wonder Woman tee shirt and by all accounts seem to be invisible to men anyway so I didn't count on that being any part of my evening. It was adorable watching Emsy be in her element though. Flirting with men in costume doesn't come easy to me.

So pretty much it was an amazing night, a thoughtful gift, a great meal, a good show and an AMAZING story. I will forever be indebted to Emsy and my life will be longer thanks to the laughs shared. I encourage all to go and participate in the crazy. There's no kind of crazy like it.

It's my Birthday Shout "Hooray" - Installment I

2011-08-15T23:10:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday to ME!

I'm 33! I made it. Yay me! I didn't get eaten by my psycho neighbors and their horrible dogs. I haven't contracted any unknown and aggressive diseases. I maintain all my limbs and have yet to employ any mace or hefty flashlights for protection. That's a WIN and I've decided to celebrate all month.

My birthday is a very reflective time for me and one of my goals this year is to be kinder to myself. This means forgiving myself quicker, laughing harder for the right reasons, and taking myself out for something special once in a while. I decided some pampering/shopping for things other than gas, food, and CostCo samples might be in order. I also had the questioning of the loving and indefatigable Emsy at my back asking what I was going to do, that it better be along the pamper lines, and to do it on my birthday. Challenge accepted!

The actual day was WONDERFUL. I let myself sleep in and read my VERY enjoyable shameless adolescent lit book. Then the little brother came over for a bit because he had a rough morning. An amazing friend dropped by with an incredibly thoughtful gift of poetry. Then I skipped off to a job interview to be a substitute teacher for one of the local school districts (which I got by the way thanks for asking) and THEN my friend Kim called me up asking if I had plans because she only has one car and the husband needed it but she had to run to Ikea for some stuff and she had a sitter but her ride fell through and was wondering if I could help her out. I thought Well, I love Kim and I like Ikea so the two together would be lovely on my birthday.

So I picked up Kim and off we went to Ikea and piddled about with fancy ice cube trays and lamp shades and throw pillows and third world children and lava lamps and all that lovely stuff that makes Ikea so magical. She needed storage containers and it took me moving to realize that I didn't have any dishes so I needed to get some plates and stop eating out of tupperware for bowls.

We finished up our hunting and gathering and were subsequently starving so we headed up to the cafe for necessary meatballs and lindenberry juice to cap our Swedish experience when what to my wondering eye should appear but a table full of the rest of our amazing group of friends who had gathered to surprise me. I had NO idea. Kim had concocted the whole plan. Apparently Ikea was a good idea because they have these mini marzipan princess cakes (as show in full scale above) and they are my traditional birthday cake (I've had one every year since I was 8) and the love, friendship, scheming and giggling commenced from there. I was uber touched. One, because I love surprises and two, because this was a surprise for me. We ate and giggled and opened cards and presents and I teared up looking around the table at these women who are my family and was so grateful I had to stop talking for a few moments here and there. Also, there were delicious meatballs that needed consumption and I had to comply.

The last stop of the night was Mom and Dad's. Mom decided to cook Boston Market for dinner and the cousin and his new fiance swung by with some gorgeous purple calla lilies. Mom's gift this year was also very thoughtful. See - we're cooks at our house. Mom's main creative outlets were costume design, makeup, and cooking. All of us learned at her elbow because getting a recipe out of mom is almost impossible ("fill your cupped hand to the second wrinkle with cinnamon...") and we all worked out of Mom's second edition of Mastering the Art of French Cooking by the glorious and amazing Julia Child. A moment for The Julia if you will.

OK. So when mom got sick and pretty much had to stop cooking (like 8 years ago) I asked her if I could have her copy of Julia's book. I had held off on getting a copy of my own 1) because I was hoping to get mom's with all the notes in the margins and memorable grease stains and 2) because I just felt like that was something special that needed to be given and not just bought. Like jewelry or nicknames. It only really counts if it's given - you know? Anyway - So I started asking for the book. Mom always said no, said that she's not ready to hang up her apron yet etc. SO - for Christmas last year we all got Amazon gift certificates and I finally broke down, let go of my over-sentimentality, and just bought myself a copy of the book. I missed it and I couldn't remember all of the recipes I wanted to make. Well - fast forward 9 months and what do I have before my eyes but the COMPLETE set of Mastering the Art of French Cooking which honestly touched me to the core. Yes I already had the book but this is the copy of the book that my MOM gave me. That's way better. So I gave Little Brother my copy (See! It's something that needs to be given) and now we're all amply instructed on how to consume butter and have adequate excuses to do Julia Child impressions as we do. Can life get better? I submit that it cannot.

But wait - this is the part of my birthday that has REALLY got my heart singing....

I went to a lecture by Ray Bradbury once and he said "I'm the world's greatest lover. I love EVERYTHING! I love libraries and history and food and my shoes and my wheelchair. I love it all" and I feel the same way. I love a LOT of things very loudly but of all those things there are a few that I love most. One of those things for me is perfume. I love everything about it. I love the beautiful bottles and the different smells for different occasions at different times of day. I love the little ceremony of putting it on. I love how I feel after I do. I love having all those pretty bottles on a pretty tray on my vanity. I love how feminine it makes me feel. I love how it looks and the possibilities they all hold. I just love it all.

My problem is perfume is expensive and because I love it so much it's something I don't have a problem spending money on if I have it. So naturally I buy it maybe once every 3 years and try to make it last. WELL - guess what I did for my birthday for myself?! YUP! I bought myself some perfume (thank you Grandma and Grandpa) and NOT just any kind. See - Sephora has a genius product development dept. They have perfume samplers. It's a box with 9-12 different samples of perfume that you buy for the price of one large bottle of perfume. You take it home, you try all of them out (because it takes a while to figure out which perfume you like and which one you don't) and it comes with a voucher that you take back to the store and you can get a full size of which ever perfume you decided you liked. Amazing! Usually the samples inside are the husky tubes with a little spray nozzle but they recently came out with THIS one

Glorious isn't it??! Look at all those adorable bottles of perfume (all of which I've sampled before and like a lot) AND I used the voucher at the same time to buy a full-sized bottle of the new DKNY Delicious scent "Golden Delicious" which is amazing and - well - delicious - if I do say so myself. Techinically I should have only been able to use it for the Be Delicious that was a part of the sample pack but they let me slide. Have I mentioned lately how much I love Sephora?

I'm just giddy happy right now looking at my pretty row of bottles and smelling good.

Oh - and these are what Target gave me for my birthday

They were on clearance for $7. AMAZING.

Great shoes. Great friends. Amazing family. Marzipan. Smelling good - I'm set. All I need is a good man and some Ella Fitzgerald and nirvana is mine.

Up next - my Medieval Times Birthday Adventure with Emsy. Life will never be the same.

And Now For Something Completely Different

2011-06-29T14:07:00.000-07:00

I don't have much time today because I need to pack up my life. I'm moving to Claremont tomorrow.

Yes - another change has come to La Casa De Liz. As it turns out, God wasn't finished rearranging my Life Furniture. Right after I said goodbye to Bianca and before Lauren left our next door neighbor/property manager/owner of our adorable House on the Hill's daughter/drug addict decided that it was time to turn her crazy up to 11. I'll spare you all of the White Trash Weekly worthy details but the bottom line was my roommates and I, though we loved our house and loved each other, felt that it was time to leave. My dad, legally speaking and for safety's sake, thought it was a good idea too.

Through the amazing Mormon Network I've taken a room in a house in Claremont, CA. I love Claremont. I spend a lot of time there in fact so I'm hoping that I will be saving a lot in gas money and angst taking a room there. I'll be 2 blocks from the Claremont Colleges so I'm determined to find a job there now because I REALLY like the idea of walking to work like Atticus Finch. Have I ever mentioned that I'd like to name a possible future-type proverbial son "Atticus" but I'm not sure the world is ready for that much awesome and nerdism in one package. He'd come home with black eyes - I know it.

I've got a lot going on and truly have to go but what I wanted to share was that one of my favorite musicians/songwriters - Mr. Joe Pug - was on "A Prairie Home Companion" on Saturday. He was amazing and it was a phenomenal show. I'm not sure what I'm going to do when Garrison retires. He's a fixture of my psyche. Like, I know the world is going to be OK and that we're not devolving as a species because Garrison is on the radio and beloved.

So take a listen and know that despite drug addict/insane neighbors/clueless property managers and having to leave a home you love, that there is still some goodness in the world and it's worth fighting for.

tootles

Sentimental Alert: Music Edition

2011-05-16T12:38:00.000-07:00

So I've had a few posts brewing in my head for the last few but I just came across a story on my Google Reader that made me weep like a little kid.

See, almost everything I know about being a descent human being has come from either my family, the scriptures, or folk music. A few movies, books, adopted family, and pets have helped too but you take my meaning.

Some of the first songs I can remember singing were "Blowing In The Wind" and "The Sound of Silence". Paul Simon has preeminence in my heart and always will. So imagine me, this devotee, who learned what poetry meant from Paul Simon, who learned how to sing whist singing along to everything he's ever wrote, imagine my delight when I saw this article.

This is why I love music. It's about connection and love and growth and sharing. It's wholly unselfish. It exists solely to give back.

I love Paul Simon and I love music and I love this. Happy Monday Loves.

Be back soon with more.

Friday Pop Culture Check In

2011-04-15T13:36:00.000-07:00

Dear Loyal Reader,

Now that I have some time to actually pause and think about stuff I've been doing this thing called "enjoying myself" again. It's a new concept I know. I hear the French invented it and then the Italians perfected it. Either way, if its European its a win for me.

I know you're dying to know what I'm talking about so I'll review by medium -

Book wise -

I'm currently reading "Speaker for the Dead" at the little brother's invitation. Apparently these Ender Orson Scott Card books have been very influential on him and he wants to share. I'm enjoying it a lot more than I was originally and am looking forward to finishing. I also read "Ender's Game" for the same reason and I liked it - eventually. These are the book version of "Star Wars" to him in terms of sacredness so a good sister should maybe know what he's talking about. I'll let you know how it turns out.

I've also thoroughly been enjoying the King Killer Chronicles by Patrick Rothfuss. He's a newbie novelist out of Wisconsin but has written some of the most lyrically beautiful stories that I've read in a while. "The Name of the Wind" came out a few years back and my oldest brother gave a copy of it to my Dad for Christmas. The book made the family rounds and I really liked it as I mentioned before. The second book of the series came out in early March "A Wise Man's Fear" and I read it with much the same vigor. I think I literally lost a whole Saturday to it and then some. Time well spent.

Movie Wise -

I've been a bit light on the movie side of things because, well, they cost money, but I did, like any self respecting bookie babe, make time for the new Jane Eyre

It was good. I recommend it. It's not a train wreck but it's not the strongest telling either. It was deliciously true to the Gothic aspects of the novel though which I appreciated. Movie makers get a bit distracted by the love story and ignore that the fact that it's set against these dark Gothic edges. I think that canvass makes it that much more of a beautiful story and it's almost always left out but they got it this time around. They didn't cut out St. John either. He's a common causality to the editors but he survived too.

In Future Cinema News Peter Jackson released one of, I hope, many short behind the scene videos about the making of "The Hobbit". There are not words for my how much I'm looking forward to this but I will try HOWZA! MAMMM WHHHE KKKKK! LOOOKK! ITSSSAAAAAA! IttzzaahRichardArmitage iookkk kwkkwoo woww waaaaaa PeterJacksonkjfweo nndsojf onklnlkenknewljrenlkn ;nivnIloveNewZealandakjdfjkdhhHH HAHAHAAAAKKKK ohmagahgagagaghgahgah.

Music wise -

I've been informed that I have tickets to see these gargeous bright stars called "The Civil Wars" in the near future and, like always, I'm very excited. They're a group I've had a hard time not listening to. They're amazing. I wholly endorse them. Yay for some real musicianship and for genre blends. They're always the best. Much like mixed babies.

Also, GREAT NEWS! The Beastie Boys are putting out a 25th anniversary album on May 3rd and have released this new track that I have been listening to practically on loop and cannot get out of my head. They put together this hilarious promo featuring nearly every funny person alive. I might have watched 7 or 8 (teen) times. LizPAA warning - there are two "F" words for the tender-eared

TV wise -

I've been sucked into the very funny world of BBC's "Top Gear". It's a car show hosted by three middle aged perma-adolescents. It's been on the air for about 10 years and most of the series is available on Netflix's Instant Play. I love cars. I love British humor and I love informative playful approaches to things and that is what I love about this show

They go on hilarious adventures like driving to the North Pole and they periodically have Formula 1 drivers on and WOWZAH - some of these boys are quite handsome. I've picked out Jenson Button (UK)

and Mark Webber (AUS) as my favorites.

Why has Formula 1 been keeping these darling boys to themselves?! It's just not fair.

This show has also reinforced my want (read: lust) for some WAY too expensive cars. The show is great though. I have heartily laughed during every episode I've seen. Which is many. Don't ask.

Blog wise -

Hot Guys Reading Books

Enchanted Serenity of Period Films

and Best Week Ever remain places for constant giggles and happiness.

Win Blog deserves an honorable mention as well.

So yay for enjoying myself again and yay for having so much good stuff to enjoy! I hope your weekend is made up of some of the best stuff possible!

love,
your Liz

High School is Never Over

2011-04-14T13:04:00.000-07:00

So I've been thinking lately and it's led me down a few anxious roads.

It's wedding season and some of my favorite people are getting married and/or coupling up. This, as the selfish person that I am, has me feeling like a baboon with the exposed Red Bottom of Singlehood like a single thing.

I was mentally reviewing all the wedding dates, planning outfits, gift shopping trips, traveling schedules etc and it occurred to me that there was a wedding that I really don't want to go to because everyone I've ever known will be there.

Let me explain-

As some of you may know, I grew up in Pasadena. I love this fact about me. I consider it one of the best gifts my parents gave me. It is an amazing cultural center of a small city with serious history all within spitting distance LA's wonderfulness. It also provided one of the finest social educations a girl could ask for part of which being how harsh and enduring Elitism is.

See - there is A LOT of money in Pasadena. Like old money. Old, established, fox hunting kind of money. We grew up in a pretty nice part of town but in the super run-down house built in 1910 that still had the original wiring that hadn't been cared for. I loved it to pieces but we were a living "One Of These Things is Not Like The Other" segment from Sesame Street. My neighbor behind us owned horses that she kept in a stable along side their free-standing spa in their back yard and I loved those too. The people I went to church with regularly hosted large Stake Youth activities at their houses, because, well, we fit and they had a nicer lawn than the stake center.

Church, for the most part, in all doctrinal aspects was superb. I was surrounded by some of the most gracious excellent people a girl could hope for. I loved my bishop. He was one of the kindest and best of men. He knew who I was. He always came and said hello. He always had time for me. He even came to Girls Camp for the whole week without permission because he wanted to care for and be with his kids as he called us. However, there were a few bits of Elitism that managed to sneak in the cracks of my very good life.

One of them was not my bishop, but the rest of his family. His wife was the high voiced, tightly coiffed blond "BYU Princess" as my mother put it even though she went somewhere else for college. She was an avid crafter - the "I'm better than you crafter", kept a LARGE and perfectly wood plaqued, polished, dusted, and vacuumed home and was the mother of a few boys. She loved this fact. A lot.

A few of these boys were close in age with me. They were roosters of the worst kind. Privileged and educated boys that, from where I observed, were not really reigned at all. When I first learned about the historic Medici family I perfectly understood because of my interactions with my hometown Medicis. My older brother acquired his first playboy magazine at the hands of one of these boys and I received my first lesson in Elitism from the other.

We were sparse on LDS dating prospects in Pasadena. There were only 7 members of the church in my high school and I was the only one in my high school class. The other 20 kids in mutual were about all we had. So it was the Medici and a few others and that was my young impressionable view of the world of dating.

There was one awkward summer during an awkward roadshow where one of the Medici boys made a pass at me. Nothing big, just a wink and a head-jerk invitation to one of the classrooms off stage. Killer romantic, I know. But seriously - who could blame him? I was flatterd but more confused because just the other week I had heard his mother talking in the hallway to someone else after Relief Society saying "Well Liz is sweet but she wouldn't do for any of my boys. I think I like (fill in boring but skinny Anglo socialite girl's name who was the same age, grade, and hair color as me but who came from a much wealthier background and went to an expensive private school here) much better."

I don't know if she was aware I was 3 people away from her waiting for my younger brothers to get out of Primary and wanted me to know that she didn't approve of me or if she thought she was speaking in confidence but there you go. That's how she felt and the things you learn in hallways at 15 stay with you.

So fast forward to random pick up during roadshow practice and my utter confusion. I did what any normal 15 year old would do that's read one too many fairy tales - I completely froze. This was interpreted by him as a refusal, which I suppose it was. I wasn't going to brave Mama Medici's wrath. I'd bring my whole world down on me. He reacted very differently than I thought. He got very hurt, butt hurt, flouncy even for the rest of the bloody show and summer (the words "man up" still come to mind). We were never friends or had a real conversation after that summer. Can't say I'm too broken up about it but now I'm doubly vilified by Mama Medici because I've HURT her boy along with not being good enough for him. This was made known through another set of passive aggressive wonders and painfully measured looks.

I'll concede, I did have kind eyes for this one Medici boy and we did go to the same school but, like always, moved in very different circles. I had hoped that maybe, perhaps, things would line up for us but I was so blindsided by all of this I didn't know what to do with it. I was 15! I was in love with Morissey and Kurdt Cobain and being different in the good way. I had NO idea how to navigate something like this and I was already aware that Mama Medici and my mom didn't get on so well (big surprise there) so I just never mentioned it. To anyone. Ever. I didn't want to cause any more trouble. I was already buckling under the knowledge that there were people I was supposed to love and trust in the world that aggressivly criticized and disapproved of me and if I was ever to be approved of I had to have the checklist of boring-but-skinny-Anglo-socialite-girl-with-money-who-went-to-the-fancy-school and I spent hours on the floor of my room crying about that because there wasn't anything I could do about it.

Needless to say - I'm still of a split mind on the Medici family. I love love love my bishop and he still remains one of the best people I've ever known but I find the rest of the family a challenge.

Because the universe likes to watch me squirm I learned that this family moved from Pasadena shortly after we did to a very similar area to where we did and are still in my semi-immediate circle of influence. Their youngest son is getting married soon and it's his wedding I'm dreading.

One - because his brothers will be there with their perfectly coiffed wives and litters of, no doubt, beautiful kids and grad degrees and measure looks

Two - because everyone else in that ward that I grew up with in Pasadena still lives there and knows this family very well. These people are very real parental figures to me, are my proverbial village and who I love, idolize, and want with everything in my heart to impress and approve of me. They will be there and I feel terrifyingly lacking. I feel like I've let them down by not being a published author, mother of 4 married to a Nobel candidate/part-time stunt man and am working on a home business line of Homemaker Fitness videos w dietary supplements because I'm an avid triathlete that volunteers with my local Search and Rescue and am putting the finishing touches on my dissertation on C.S. Lewis.

Three - obviously - because I'm still single. I don't mind being overweight and seeing everyone.They all know I was never the ballerina type. That doesn't feel as large of a failing to me as being single. I think I would honestly prefer to walk in there with a known criminal record than walk in alone.

This fact has me of a split mind as well. Half of me, the vocal Feminist/XenaLiz is appalled that I would let myself determine my value based on my marital status. She tells me that it doesn't matter, that these people are just people and can only affect me if I let them. She's flummoxed that I haven't bucked the 30 years of social programming telling me that the best person I can be is who I would be in a marriage and I am still semi-developed and thereby semi-valued without it.

The other half, the tattered half, the one that's holding the pieces of my excitable heart together with both hands, a few toes and some string is very tired. Too tired to speak in anything that she doesn't know to be true because that takes the least amount of effort. She says that it is a fact that I'm not married and there's little chance of that changing in the next few weeks. She also points out that I haven't even received an invitation yet so all this fretting might be for naught.

I've done pretty good with my discount shoes, second hand books and public education and lets be real, frankly I need to forgive all mentioned parties. It's just hard when these harsh ideas, memories of measured and disapproving looks, critical conversations, and unwanted lables are all embedded in the cement of my subconscious with their spiky ends sticking out.

I don't know why this is surfacing now and I don't know what other issues may have played into Mama Medici's behavior besides her utter disregard for me and my family. I don't know why my love for my friend and his marital happiness is being superseded by my anxiousness about being judged and letting people down that I love but I do know one thing - there is no way in hell I'm going to that wedding.

Today is the Day

2011-04-13T12:55:00.000-07:00

So to make the most of my time off I've recently volunteered as a Literacy Tutor through the Pomona Public Library.

I've gone through a bit of training and I'll be honest, I was way more confident before training than after. The training had all these different methods and things not to say or not to do to keep from offending our students. I understand that working in adult literacy can be a bit touch -and-go but some of the stories used in training were terrifying.

I also get that our students are people that have struggled and been judged their whole lives and are putting themselves in a vulnerable place asking for help but it was all so much and so charged I became afraid if I wasn't perfectly practiced and ready to go then I would permanently scar these people in need. Mind you, my training consisted of about 4.5 hours of videotape (yes - that's right. I said videotape) instruction and despite the fights with the tracking after multiple rewinds to fully absorb what I thought I missed, I apparently competed with success. Typically they have 3 Saturday training courses for their tutors but I was anxious to get started and the next series didn't start for another 3 months so I got to learn via video instead.

Needless to say, when I got my tutor assignment I was pretty terrified.

I received my student's file and read through everything and my heart broke into quite a few bits. My student's penmanship was somewhere between Arabic and Doctor. He had an assessed 3rd grade reading level, was middle-aged, out of work, and had asked for a female tutor. How had someone gotten to middle-age equipped with what he had? How had this happened? Helping out someone in this much in need is a LARGE task, one I haven't had before, one that had high stakes and so my thoughts began to swirl and prey.

What if all I do is make it worse and frustrate him?

What if I offend him?

What if I'm terrible one-on-one? I'm so much more used to classroom settings.

What if I can't see and assess his needs properly and get him working on the whole wrong trajectory?

What if he's really mean? These are one-on-one tutor sessions - that can be dangerous with the wrong person!

What if this blows up and I find that I'm not really a good educator and I've just been diluting myself since forever and all I'm cut out to do is be a dish washer?

And so on and so forth.

So I put off making an appointment with my assigned tutoree, we'll call him Pip, for a few days but I finally did and we met today and let me tell you - I feel better but more broken hearted.

He is a sweet and totally sincere married guy that, when asked what his literacy goals were responded "I want to be able to read the Bible. I want to pick up a newspaper and know what it means. I want to be able to pick up a users manual for something and make sense of it. That's all"

My heart broke in the good way, in the I-will-do-everything-you-let-me-to-make-that-happen kind of way. "I want to be able to read the Bible" is something that will echo in me for a long time. I think it touched every missionary fiber that I still have. Because that's what it's all about isn't it? Literacy brings about a more meaningful life, a more driven life, a more independent life, a life more connected to God and those around you. 8 year olds at church regularly read outloud from the Bible, confidently even, and that sweet and sincere desire has been pressing on this man his whole life.

Because he had glasses and a bad back growing up in the 60s he got put in to Special Education and "graduated" high school but with an elementary school reading level. He's been told his whole life that he was dumb and he couldn't do anything. Not OK America! Not OK!

He's scrapped by doing auto repair and driving a forklift. He is really good with his hands - carpentry - the works. He wanted to be a massage therapist but you know what? He couldn't read the forms that he had to fill out for the office. He couldn't make sense of the charts of the muscles of the body. He was lost so he had to give it up. He was married for about 5 years before he told his wife that he couldn't read.

After getting to know him a bit and realizing that he's a kinesthetic and spacial learner (mechanics, carpentry, warehouse work) a whole game plan started forming in my head. I gave him a piece of paper and had him start writing things down. Firstly I told him he needs to find a simple notebook and start writing every day. Even if it's just copying what's in the newspaper. I told him that he has to start training his muscles in his had to do what his brain tell them. Just like being a mechanic, just smaller muscles. Next I told him to get a little pocket notebook (I call them detective notebooks) to write down words he doesn't recognize for us to go over with our regular vocabulary. I found some letter blocks and magnets that we're going to use for spelling and recall. Next I told him that we're going to read a book. I read "The Phantom Tollbooth" in 3rd grade and I figured that's a great place to start. His eyes got really big but I told him that it'll be fine and that we'll read it together, no matter how long it takes.

Then we went through a newspaper article. Slowly. Word by sounded out word. It took 45 minutes but, dab gum it, he read that whole newspaper article. He had the most satisfied look on his face when we were done. It was somewhere between a smile and a smirk. Like when you're choking down a yelp for joy. I congratulated him and you know what he said? He said he'd never done that before. He had never read a whole newspaper article. Until today. Today's was his day.

I sat with him as he filled out his library card application. It took 30 minutes. He had never had a library card. Until today. Today was his day.

I showed him how to find a library book. He had no idea. I showed him how to find "The Phantom Tollbooth" and then checked it out. He's never checked out a book before. Until today! Today is the day!

He's never read a whole book before either but that will change. He will read, he will understand and he will know that he is NOT a screw up and doesn't need to head-down barrel through life anymore. He knows more than he thinks he does. It's just a matter of practice and some boosted confidence. I have 50 years of criticism and negative self-talk to undo but it's possible and as he sees himself do things he never thought he could, like read a newspaper article, like read a book, like remember words, he will progress and he will be able to read his Bible.

In other words, he is exactly what I need as much as I am what he needs. His story and our lesson has grounded me more in this one morning session than anything else these last couple of weeks.

I feel so silly for any bit of self-pity I may have indulged in over the last few weeks. Here I am, equipped with everything I need to do anything I want. I have a supportive family, my youth, the most amazing friends in the world, an enduring Faith, a great education, a computer even. I have a good life and it's time that I'm properly grateful.

There are so many people who seriously need help. I feel so selfish that I've taken this long to give back, even the little that I am.

Today Pip has a book in his hand. Today Pip got a win he's wanted his whole life in conquering a newspaper article. Today a library administrator has one less thing to worry about and one more student paired up. Today I relearned what gratitude is and what it needs to be. It needs to be time. It needs to be patience. Today needs to be everyday.

Into The Woods

2011-03-24T11:39:00.000-07:00

So I've been pushed into my next phase of life.

I got laid off on Friday.

I'm doing well. Very well actually. I couldn't blog about my job before well, because, not blogging about work is the first rule of blogging but I'll just sum it up saying that I was working for bonafide abusive paranoid amateurs who are experts a blame-shifting. I am very glad to be done with the place. I will miss the paycheck but that's about it. To add insult to injury I also badly twisted my ankle by missing the second to last stair and eating pavement when I was being shown the door. It wasn't my finest hour.

I'll blog about this at length later. What I'd really like to talk about is my last Saturday.

It was a very big day for a friend of mine. We were having a Stake Day in the Temple and one of my friends from the ward was receiving her own endowment. This is a big deal and she was gracious enough to invite me to accompany her through her session.

Trying to get my wits together the morning after being laid off, getting ready on a bad ankle and out the door early on a Saturday was a challenge but I did it and was on the phone with my dad giving him the details of the lay off while I was driving to the temple. I had my phone up to my ear when I saw a CHP in my rearview, lights on, pulling me over. Perfect.

I got a fix-it ticket for some stuff on my car. Mercifully he didn't write me up for talking on my phone (I left my bluetooth at home and my car is too loud to talk effectively on speaker phone) and I was on my way but very much behind schedule.

I pulled up to the temple at 930 - right when my friend's session was scheduled to start and was in a near panic and praying for a close parking space because I was already walking on a bad ankle but there wasn't a single one, near or far. The temple had been closed for the previous two weeks and there were a slew of weddings and own endowments so everyone and their best friend was there. It's a good problem but one that sent me into racking sobs. I drove around for a bit while mentally inventorying what I could have done differently to avoid this situation.

I shouldn't have had that bowl of cereal, I should have just left.

I should have gotten up earlier and not dawdled so long figuring out what to wear

I should have done my make up in the car on the way.

I ended up having to park half a mile away from the temple in an accommodating church parking lot and set off at my fastest run-hobble to get into the session praying for some reason it might be held up. I was doing this whilst still convulsively sobbing and to make everything more interesting the temple grounds were peppered with well-wishers and family members that didn't have a recommend so I had a captive audience the whole way up all bewilderingly starring at the chubby lady run-hobble while ugly-faced donkey crying trying to get to into the temple. It was mortifying.

I got into the temple at 940 and got changed and was told the session hadn't closed yet. I thought whew I'm not going to be a horrible person and miss it. Just a lame person for being late.

I had composed myself somewhat, wiped off the drippy eye makeup I sweat and cried off on my sprint in. I took the elevator up to the second floor where the entrance to the endowment room is and was happy to see a line of people coming out the endowment room door and going all the way down the grand staircase. This made me happy because it seemed that I wasn't really that late at all. When I hobbled closer I saw that the whole endowment room that typically accommodate about 500 people that is NEVER full was full. Like, breaking fire codes full. Like, they had put extra chairs in the aisle and there were a few people standing kind of full.

I saw the ordinance workers (men and women who run the sessions and administer the ordinances in the temple) in a ordinance worker huddle (they do that a lot because they need to communicate but like to keep their voices down to preserve reverence in the temple) and one of the gentleman turned around and said in the most reverent announcement voice ever "I'm sorry Brothers and Sisters, this is a good problem but the session is full and we cannot accommodate anyone else. Please feel free to join us on the 1030 session."

My stomach dropped and I, again, began to cry. I asked him "I have a friend in there receiving her endowment. Would it be OK for me just to wait for them in the Celestial Room?" I don't cry very often for my sake and even less often in front of people so I was already feeling off my rocker that morning. Too much of my energy was tied up in keeping it together, trying not to panic about my life and future and everything and dealing with the pain of my ankle. This blessed temple worker seemed to register all that with one glance at me and I could see everyone else in the temple zoom out of his vision and just focus on me. I turned to grab a few tissues at an accommodating table and he he said "OK - hold on just one second." He dashed to the door, and said - "there is a seat in the very front row - go now" and apparently they had had to stop the session for some reason and I managed to slip in just then. I had to walk all the way up the LONG isle in front of the 500+ people that were in that session very teary faced, shaking, and of course - mortified but I was there. I made it and I got to see my friend and be there for her. It took me about 20 minutes to compose myself. I'm not sure what my whimpering self must have looked or sounded like but I wasn't at a caring point to be honest.

The session was lovely. Seeing my friend in the Celestial Room was lovely it was all lovely. We went and ate and seeing how it was supposed to be a Stake Temple day they had arranged for half our stake to go through the 230 session, we were going to have a 445 chapel session and the remaining would go through the 530 session. Our whole ward that was endowed went either at 930 or 230 and we had our limited use recommend holders doing Baptisms for the Dead in the baptistery. It was a full on ward field trip. The chapel session was lovely and I got to meet up with my brother and the day was beginning to even out.

We met up with everyone at the newly refurbed and VERY shiny Visitor's Center and made dinner plans. We all scattered to our respective cars and I hobbled back to mine parked somewhere between Egypt and Tibet. This journey led me past the temple apartments where people who are doing work in the temple stay for a nominal fee. Senior Missionary couples, travelers, full time missionaries - there are a whole slew of different people there for different reasons. There was a sweet 40-something Samoan man that was packing up his car wearing bombers, slacks, a tie and a dress shirt decidedly tucked out. I could only gather he was at the end of his day and wanted to be comfortable.

The temple grounds at this point were pretty vacated so I was, again, by myself hobbling past this brother and he said to me in the sweetest pigeon English "Eh eh - sistah! Did you eeenjoye yo session?" I, having the glorious experience of living with Polynesians on my mission knew that they were a very gregarious people and like to talk to everyone and honestly cared about everyone. So I slowed and answered "Yes - yes I did. Thank you for asking" without really breaking my hobble pace. But this sweet Polynesian man stopped what he was doing, put his hands in his pockets and turned his shoulder towards me like he wasn't finished talking. I stopped not wanting to be rude and turned back to him as to say "I'm listening" and he said "I'm reeely glad you godt into da session." I then realized, he was probably one of those ordinance workers in the ordinance worker huddle that saw me loose it at the top of the stair that morning. I didn't know how he recognized me but he did. He went on "You knoe as Ordinance Workers - we try haaard to make sure that eeev'ry patron has a good e'sperance in the Temple of our God. I'm soo glad you 'aad a gooode daye"

This kindness so unexpected and sincere. So naturally, in my all-so-stoic state began to cry and not even knowing this man's name gave him a huge hug which he returned. I just whimpered "thank you" and kept hobbling back to my car. I'm so glad that I had that moment of love and recognition and clarity before I got back to my car because when I did, to make my day more amazingly complicated - I came back to a flat tire.

I looked down at my dress and my now alarmingly swollen ankle and continued to cry but for different reasons. I had my brother's phone for some reason but I knew that he and the rest of my ward were meeting at the same place to eat so I called my old home teacher and asked to speak to my brother and said "So my tire is flat" and my brother apparently thought that I was just reporting in and not asking for help. I was too tired and worn down to muster the energy to explain that I needed some help so I just hung up, found one of my fix-a-flats in my trunk and proceeded to fill my tire. I couldn't kneel or crouch because of my ankle and dress so I ended up having so sit on the ground, legs out like a 5 year old, in the gravely parking lot like the lady in Isaiah, got foul smelling chemical foam and grime on my hands, and finally got my tire full enough to limp to the nearest gas station.

I made it to the gas station, filled up the rest of my tire and then finally made it to the restaurant where everyone was very hungerly eating their dinner. The 15 or so members of my ward had put about 7 tables together every seat being full. They knew that I was coming, that I had a flat but they apparently couldn't be bothered to save me a seat. Naturally, like anyone in a truly raw state I was crushed and - you got it - started to cry. My brother and Bishop and his wife were among the group, all people who I love and like to think of as my friends and might have my interests in mind, people who I would hope could intuit my need. But no - double crush. I told my brother back at the temple that I'd buy him dinner for my half of the Netflix bill that month so I caught his eye, he jumped up and asked if I was OK etc and I replied something along the lines of "Sure - yeah - whatever. I think I'm going to go home". He tried to get me to stay and had lots of reassuring hugs but probably didn't get how gutted I was at the whole situation so I bought him his dinner and went home. That place and people were the last place I wanted to be at the moment. The Bishop followed me out making noises about wanting to see my tire and asking for me to check in when I got home etc but it all felt a little too much a little too late.

I know people who have left the church for lesser offenses and slights and I'm not going to lie - my confidence in my ward is pretty low right now. I don't even know who my home teacher is even if I needed to call on someone. That's not OK.

I kind of understand the "could you not watch with me one hour" principle now and if it wasn't for that amazing Polynesian man who I don't even know I would probably be in much worse shape. I'm still feeling a bit shaky and cry a lot more quickly than I usually do. I love my ward but this experience has given me pause. I know that The Church is true and no flick of human folly or selfishness can negate that. I told my roommate the whole story and she was very sweet. She's in charge of the Relief Society and had a different idea of how the evening would have played out had the Relief Society been in charge and I think she's right. I almost called her after I hung up with my brother but I knew how early she'd been up and how anxious she was to get home and was on her way so I didn't.

Either way, I still haven't gotten my tire patched - well- because I just got laid off and the Unemployment hasn't kicked in and I still went to Church on Sunday so I suppose I'm not too badly damaged. If anything I'm exhausted. It's all been a lot of serious highs and lows but that's how it works in the unknown I suppose.

The good news is I'm still in one piece, my relationship with God is strong and tomorrow is another day. With no mistakes in it.

Bad Reputation

2011-02-13T10:25:00.001-08:00

I do NOT know why the people in charge of Television hate the world so much or why they, ironically, hate good television.

Some of the best shows ever have had the plug pulled WAY too early. Consequently, they've become the James Dean and Marilyn Monroes of the medium; My So-Called Life, Arrested Development, Firefly just to name a few.

I've just finished watching another series that will sit in good company with these DVD sets on my shelf. Ladies and Gents - I give you "Freaks and Geeks".

Yes - that's James Franco (soon to have an Academy Award). Yes - that's Jason Segel from "How I Met your Mother". Yes that's Seth Rogan from everything. Yes that's a very young Jonathan Francis Daley from "Bones". Yes that's Linda Cardellini and Busy Phillips from "ER". Yes - that's also a very young Samm Levine from "Inglorious Bastards". Pretty much everyone that's awesome was involved in this show. Even the supporting cast - Biff from "Back to the Future" is the gym teacher! Ivanova from "Babylon 5" is one of the Geek's mothers! It was this never-ending parade of "oh my gosh" and real honest talent. Ben Stiller even pops in for a second.

All this wonderful was the brain child of Judd Apatow who has been involved in everything that's really mattered, TV, webseries and movie alike since 1999 (when this show started). All praise the Apatow.

I know I'm super late to the "Freaks and Geeks" bandwagon but that's not the point. The point is, this kind of entertainment/television is excellent and should be talked about and celebrated.

All precious 18 episodes are available via YouTube and I encourage you to watch them, buy the DVDs and then write a few scathing letters to the jerk-faces who canceled the show.

I don't want to spoil anything for those who have yet to have the viewing pleasure. I'll just give you my list of Things I Learned from "Freaks and Geeks" to whet your pallet.

Say your peace but not through crank phone calls.

When you get kicked in the head at a club, it's time to leave. Period.

When it comes to drum kits, less is more.

Know the rules of the game before you celebrate.

Practicing ventriloquism is something that should only be done at home.

Listen to you parents when they talk to you about sex. It's harder for them and it's probably stuff you need to know.

Smashed guitars and dead dogs are some of the best things that could happen to you.

There are some people you'll never truly understand until you meet their parents.

Jazz wins - every time.

Make time for "Dallas".

Don't give up on people and when you need to say sorry, do it fast.

When you're happy or grateful for something, say it outloud and often.

Dance as often as possible.

We all need a pair of Starwars pjs.

Real friends know when and when not to ask questions.

Do your homework - being smart rocks.

Stick up for people that need it.

Kindness needs to be just as loud as meanness.

Being OK with yourself is an on-going process.

and

Listen to guidance counselors that know their Alice Cooper.

RIP "Freaks and Geeks" - thanks for existing. If only for a blip. You will be remembered.

Hi Again!

2011-02-05T12:16:00.000-08:00

Twice in two months! I know! Things are changing around here :)

I finished an AMAZING book last week and I have to write about it. It's one of the best books I picked up since Harry Potter. No joke.

It's called The Name of The Wind by Patrick Rothfuss

It's been a long time since I've read book this good. Sometime I've found one that engaged me as well as this one but it's over just as I'm starting. This one was a week's worth of delight.

I loved a lot of things about this book:

One - the writing. It's been a while since I've come across such patient writing. It's not writing that's trying to convince you or charm you or condescend to you or shock you. It's just telling you a glorious story patiently, effectively, and brilliantly.

Two - I love how this is a grown up book. As in, this was written by a self-respecting adult for other self-respecting adults. It nobly steered away from any inappropriate sexuality. It was still there of course, this a story about how a boy became a man. But it's never abused, it's treated with the dignity it deserves. I appreciated that down to my bones. By so you can sense what a real hero the protagonist, Kvothe, is. This is a book I'd read to my kids but discuss with my professors as well. That's a RARE thing to me and I appreciated it more than anything.

Three - this book is laced together with love. It's a love letter to Stories. It's a love letter to Music and the Theater. It's a love letter to Family. It's a thank you note to Struggle. It's letter of recommendation for Nobility and Humility. It comes from such positive places it's impossible not to feel like a better person after reading it.

Four - I love how brave this book is. It directly addresses Religion and History and Faith and Spirituality. It's honest about the veracity of each. It's unapologetic about the good and bad each one has and what a vital roll each one has with our day-to-days. It was refreshing to be able to engage that part of my person and heart with this story because it's not usually not addressed like this in modern Fantasy works. Usually it's much more glib.

Fifth - I love how I didn't feel lied to by this book. Sometimes when you're picking up a "Fantasy" book it's good but it feels a bit plasticy. Almost like a show at Chuck E Cheese. You're entertained by the painfully stiff audio-animotronic 6' mice and beavers but well, much like the pizza there, they leave you feeling unsatisfied. This book feels like a walk through a museum. You feel nourished as well as entertained, you feel spoken to, not spoken at and I deeply value that.

So all that quality combined with a story about the Fae and magic and battling the demon forces of a world and commanding the elements makes for a VERY good read. The next one can't get here soon enough.

I think I'm Due

2011-01-20T16:58:00.000-08:00

For another check in that is -

Not like THAT silly - not yet anyway.

Well it's 2011 and I'm still working at Arcadian Lighting and figuring out my next move and accepting the fact that I'm an adult and became so through a very different series of events than I originally imagined.

Christmas was lovely and meltdown free amazingly. I think that was the greatest Christmas present of all truthfully. We all had low expectations and really just wanted to spend time with each other and that's what we did. Nick and I settled down with dad and watched his Star Trek - the KLINGON years DVD and ate yummy fattening food and it was grand. New Years went by much the same way.

There's been a series of entrances and exits on the friend scene. One of my roommates moved out because she's a medical student and a slave to her rotation schedule so around October we had a few fleeting days to get her moved out, me moved out of my room and into hers and our new roommate, Julie, into my old room. There was a flurry of paint and chair and bed shuffling and books and books and books. It was hilariously insane. I like my newly transformed room though. And not everyone has built in book cases, a bay window, a fireplace (that works) and their own private bath on the top of a hill I tell ya. I'm a blessed girl and my blood pressure goes down every time I come in my room.

The room is still not done by a long shot. Tiffy and I still have to build a faux mantle piece and I need to get a few rugs that match my bedding and blah blah blah expensive monies for pretties etc. Finished or not, I really love having a place that's for me. That's in the colors I love and with room for all my books. It's just ... nice.

We threw a bender of a Halloween party and tried to throw a Fancy Dance Slow Dance Christmas party complete with dance cards ala "Meet Me in St. Louis" but it fell on a bad day so we only had a few show but it was still very nice and relaxing.

My friend Stephanie, who served her mission in Italy, and I have decided to make a 2 week trip to Rome in October of this year. I've been doing the budget and getting ready and am all kinds of excited. I had a dentist apt this week addressing an abscessed tooth that will cost me exactly what it's also going to cost me to go to Rome but I'm not going to give up on the trip. Even if I have to get a second job I've got a date with Bernini this Fall come hell or high water.

However that same dentist apt landed me with a singularly swollen face, and Rxs for two different kinds of painkillers and some antibiotics. I don't know what more I can do. I floss regularly, use a mouth wash and a floridator. It's been a while since my last dentist visit because I haven't been covered (and barely am now - why does dental work cost so much and why does insurance barely cover anything?!). However, part of being an adult is taking care of yourself so you can take care of others. My teeth falling out of my mouth won't serve anyone, least of all me.

Being an adult also means being honest about things. Especially about what you're good at and what you're not and what would make the best living. At this juncture, I'm having to plan out a life on my own - buying my own house and settling my own retirement etc which means that whatever career I choose isn't just for my own edification and/or entertainment, it needs to be financially sound. I never EVER thought that I'd be sitting around my room when I was 32 still contemplating what I wanted to be when I grew up but here I am/was and I've concluded the following.

I had the inkling to be a designer. It's something I'm passionate about and very good at - however, in terms of actually providing for me its on the unreliable side.

I used to envy people that were so painstakingly good at something that their future job and life was just clear for them and it was just a matter of taking the steps and getting the schooling. I haven't felt like I've had that luxury of *knowing*. But then, after a Sunday that I was substituting in a class it hit me like my pair of glasses I rip appart my whole bed to find only to see them 6" away from me on the night stand. Teaching - I'm a damned good teacher, a natural one even. I've put away the idea of teaching a number of times because I wanted something more exciting but it keeps crawling out of the drawer and back into my line of sight. I think now, I've finally realized that not only is it something I'm good at but also the most financially sound. There isn't a lot of money in teaching but there certainly will always be a job for a teacher.

So if I'm going to retire at 65 (like I want to get on my next mission) then I need to get settled somewhere within the next 3 years. Which means finishing my teaching credential soon. So that's what I'm working on. Finally.

I'm kind of terrified that I'll go through the credentialing process and get into the classroom and find that I'm not as good as I thought I would be like I was with singing. I sang and sang and sang in high school and at church and trained privately and was told on all accounts that I was good but when I went into the music program at college to make a real go of it I was told I was painfully ordinary and it's best not to make too lofty goals for myself. It shattered me in a lot of ways and I'm still recovering.

I thought I was a good student too. I figured because I was that working full time and school full time would be doable. And I did get through my degree eventually but not with the GPA I thought I'd have. Adulthood is kind of this journey of finding out how extraordinary you aren't and having to persevere in a very difficult world anyway and finding that that perseverance is what makes you exceptional not accolades or cushioned bank accounts or flashy rides or loads of talent. I value the fact that I can keep going, and have, much more commendable than all that. I haven't given up and I won't.

What were some of your trail markers and milestones with "growing up" or being and adult?

Too Good Not to Pass Along

2010-09-30T16:41:00.000-07:00

So for the record, I'm doing all right - I'm still drafting Part II of "Invincible". I know you're waiting with baited breath....

But in the meantime, a well informed friend of mine with remarkable procurement skills found this article and passed it along.

(PG-13 warning: there are a few swears but they are not flagrant and/or directly pointed at anyone)

I felt like I had just heard a General Conference talk when I finished reading. This puts words, paragraphs and names to a bunch of things that I've been feeling angsty about and affected by.

Please read this and remember you're human, that's thats beautiful, and VERY NECESSARY.

By the way - I love you guys. I don't say that enough.

Tootles,

Invincible

2010-09-23T15:42:00.000-07:00

Part I

I think that there are a few moments in every life where you're shown of what you are and are not made. This is my accounting of one that I had last week.

Growing up a Long/Dees it's very easy to feel, well, a bit super human. School and anything cerebral comes fairly easy. On the Long side, we're rarely sick, and if we ever are we usually just power through it. Sports come fairly easy, anything physical actually. When I was playing water polo and regularly lifting weights I put muscle on so fast I couldn't keep up with how strong I was becoming and Lennyed more than one hole in a wall and broken door frame. For the most part, people believe what you say, laugh at your jokes, seek your advice and value your company. As much, you grow up not really being affraid of anything. You can either think around, charm, or power through whatever situation you find yourself. I'm not going to lie, it's pretty damn awesome, most of the time.

As such, I begin to think that nothing can really hurt me until I realize that because I see things differently, I feel things differently and typically more extensively and I realize EVERYTHING can hurt me and regularly does, but typically I'm strong enough to bear the blows. I remind myself that it's imperative to feel feelings, but to let them pass through. They do not control me and that I'm strong enough to take it.

That all being said, last week while shopping for drain-o at an all but empty Lowe's after a church activity as I'm wandering the overwhelming isles of wrenches, drill bits, lawn chairs, carpet rolls, and weed killer I start wishing there was a 3D Google contraption that could let me just find the bloody drain-o. This particular task does not high-cogniative levels of problem solving so my mind starts wandering into girly places, inventorying the recent pairings and/or interests of my friends and the local boy club and realize that, for about the umpteenth time, I'm sans partner/interest/pursuer.

Everyone (in my Looney Toons mind) is about to gallivant paired into the sunset and I, again, am left at home, broom in hand, by myself.

This idea starts to upset me and instead of the familiar sting of tears at my eyes the focus is lower, in my chest. It starts to tighten like an asthma attack and I can only manage short shallow breaths. My heart starts pumping like a captured field mouse but I don't get light headed, I don't feel compelled to sit down, I don't want to cry, I just can't breathe and I don't know why and my heart feels like it's being dribbled against my sternum.

Being the Long I am, having assigned myself to a task, I take the physical discomfort, shove it aside, and continue on my drain-o search. I try to keep a steady breath, yoga breathing fixes everything right? Oxygen, the fastest way to detox the body. I finally find the drain-o, properly compare potentices with price and container size, get through the self check out (yoga breath, yoga breath, yoga breath), and make it to my car.

Tasks being completed, I turn my cartoony brain to the most pressing matter at hand, my insane body. I don't really have time to play Dr to myself but my body was demanding attention and if I know one thing its don't poo-poo anything that has to do with the chest/heart/ lung region.

So I sit there in my car, I inventory my racing heart, mentally cross referenceing it with other accounts from remembered NPR articles and friends' stories and my slew of Medical School friends running medical dialog. I rewind and review conversations, picking out pieces of information that seem to apply, come to a conclusion that I don't like at all but one whose evidence I can't refute. I sit there for a few minutes longer, rerunning my experience, the evidence, my existing knowledge of possible explanations and I realize I need more data to be sure. I reluctantly text my friend who has mentioned similar experiences before:

What does a panic attack feel like?

Replies come confirming all this weirdness. I realize the trigger, feel helpless and silly but that I cannot dismiss these feelings. They're demanding time and attention. But I have no idea how to explore them. Talking about them with anyone of my afore-mentioned friends and/or family would just trigger the route "Don't be sillys" and "You know you're wonderful" and "He'll come around some day" that never seem to make me feel better. Ever. If anything, they spray gas on the fire. I think they never comfort because that's never been the issue. My raw and unaddressed fear isn't a life without love, it's a life alone. I know I'm loved. That has never been an issue, but being left behind, being left out - that's what closes the shutters on my rationale.

Flashes of being on the tree-line Provo street of my child hood and having my big brother purposefully get his friends together in front of me and then ride off on their bikes while yelling behind him that I can't come along, that I'm weird and a pest, that I'm not invited and I'll get beat up if I try to follow. Family reunions where my cousins flitted off to the mall without even considering me. Those come crashing in and for a tic I feel a shudder go through out my consciousness, destabilizing things for a moment and I'm not sure if its a layer of delusion being stripped away or a layer of foundation being ripped out.

I look over at the drain-o on my passenger seat, remember the pressing task of a clogged bath tub at home, wipe the tears away to see straight, take a few more yoga breaths, decide I need to air this out later, start my car, shove aside my weaknesses and just keep going. That is the only thing I know how to do.

I'm not sure what to make of this new info but it'll keep for another day when I'm feeling stronger and a little bit less alone or maybe when I've got my red boots and bullet proof bracelets back on. Nothing can harm me then.

Them Fellas

2010-08-04T01:37:00.000-07:00

I'm kind of excited for Thursday. Lemme take a ridiculously windy way to tell you why.

I think I've got to do some reprogramming when it comes to the menfolk.

Upon reflection and regular conversations with my roommates on the subject, I've only found myself instantly attracted to a handful of men, like 5. Like, couldn't speak kind of attracted. Five. Over the course of my entire life.

I've become attracted to the guys I've dated over the years but very few of them have just punched me in the face with their pheromones and swagger.

I have a few explanations for this:

1) I really don't consider guys that aren't LDS. I've been taught to scan the room for possibilities and only Temple-bound fellas would qualify.

2) Most LDS men are not what I would consider attractive. They are many other wonderful things; kind, smart, funny, attentive, personable, convicted - but, sadly, at least in my immediate demographic are all a bit on the goofy side of cute.

3) I grew up in a very LAish part of LA. There are A LOT of good looking people here. It's a modeling/acting/singing hot spot. That demographic ran off into a lot of the coffee shops, comedy clubs, music halls, pool games and boutique shops in which I spent most of my high school weekends.

4) Growing up with and in my family.

I like to talk about my family a lot. They're fairly amazing to me. It's a constant source of wonder to me that I might be a part of the group that most of them occupy.

They are all excellent, bright, kind, hilarious, and extremely good looking people. They regularly blow me away with their levels of insight and their ability to stop foot traffic with an eyelash flick. This is male and female inclusive.

I say this as someone who has truly struggled to feel part of this group my whole life and thereby absent of any self aggrandizement. It's just fact. If you don't believe me, I'll make introductions and you can see for yourself.

Growing up thus, I think has spoiled me in a lot of ways. I'm used to lively and intelligent conversation on a regular basis with people who are fundamentally kind and the best looking person in the room. This is my norm. Sounds amazing but outside the walls of any given family reunion it's grounds for heaping portions of letdown. Especially in the dating world.

I dove in to the dating world at 18 and found some lovely prospects. One of the previously mentioned Big 5 was a Harvey Mudd student we'll call Adam. He was a 6' 4" black belt, rock climbing paragon from Las Vegas that blew me away, dated me for a while, but ended up having never broken up with his girlfriend who was attending BYU at the time (there are SO many reasons why I don't care for that place) and he bitterly broke my heart with his cheating self. But I was 18. That's what happens when you're 18 and you think nothing can hurt you.

The next one of the 5 was an Adonis from Morocco that I knocked across when I was serving my mission in Washington DC when I was 21. I had heard Elders tell stories of knocking across beautiful women and having to pick their jaws up off the floor but these were silly sexually repressed LDS boys. I had fairly low expectations of them. Until I met Sahim. I still remember every awkward foot shuffle and crack of paint on that doorway. We were knocking a few apartment buildings in the interior of Alexandria and a lot of the Latino community I was called to teach lived in tandem with the immigrant Muslim community. So, in turn, I spent a lot of time with them and REALLY learned to love and respect them along with my darling Latinos. That day, from the smell of curry in the hallways and not of maize, we gathered we wouldn't find many Latinos but we knocked up the apartment building anyway. Then, this one door was opened by another 6' 4" (that's a favorite height of mine) caramel skinned, emerald eyed, 25 year old Apollo in training with a jaw bone you could use for a straight edge and cheekbones that could cut paper. He. Was. Amazing. He smelled like fabric softener and baby lotion. He was beautiful but what was the most impressive was how soft his eyes were and how sincere his smile was. He reeked of sincerity and genuine kindness and I was a puddle with a name tag and clunky shoes.

I had only been in the field a few weeks but my eyes popped and I think I said "Hi. We're missionaries from the Church of Cheese and Rice and Rattle May Snakes" and then just dropped off. My companion was unaffected for some reason and very entertained by this awkward and potentially humiliating situation for me (She didn't like me too much.). Under normal circumstances a companion would scrape her companion off the floor and diplomatically take over the conversation until her companion could compose herself, but my companion just kind of let me writhe. He introduced himself as Muslim and likewise was kind, hospitable, and very grateful for our visit, like 99.99% of the Muslim community always was. He invited us in even though his father wasn't at home. He got us something cool to drink. I think that I can definitively say that the people who let us in and gave us something warm on cold days and cool on hot days were almost always Muslim. Did I mention I really loved those people? Because I do.

We chatted for a modest amount of time and I attempted to be cogent and on topic but am still not aware how successful I was. Then his dad came home. At that point I wasn't sure there was a more beautiful man on the planet but his dad looked like Sean Connery's better-looking younger brother. I wouldn't have thought that it was possible but you didn't get to meet this family. I do not know what they put in the water in Morocco but it WORKS. My companion started getting a little rosy-cheeked around his dad, which I found quite weird, so at that point we went home. But My. Word. Yay Morocco.

I didn't meet another one of the 5 until I had been home for a few years. I was 26 and a very good friend of mine had recently taken the post as head Pastry Chef at the Westwood "W" hotel. She met a good amount of the aforementioned Beautiful LA People there because they were holding down jobs as valets and servers etc in the hotel while they were working on their acting/modeling/music career. One of these blokes was a guy named Joe. Joe has a band called Lady Sinatra. He's that lead singer-type guy. He kind of looks like a rogue vampire from "Angel" but he's really this incredibly tender vegan that rescues kittens and has an Eagle Scout. Because Joe is about 6' 8" he also moonlights as a bouncer for the Viper Room, this slightly well known music club on the Sunset Strip. So, naturally Joe's band plays the Viper Room a lot. My friend and I ended up on the list for a lot of these shows pretty frequently and one time one of Joe and my friend's mutual friends decided to drop by the gig.

We'll call him Byron.

Yes, Byron.

And he was perfect. It is very difficult for me to be interested in a guy without having a conversation first but Byron did not need any prerequisites. I noticed him when he first came in because one he was very tall. Most male LAites are in 6' to 6' 3" region. I'm pretty sure Byron stood somewhere in the 6' 6" realm, so naturally he stood out. He stood out in every way. The Viper Room is one of these places to be seen so the crowd can be a bit presumptuous and overdressed. Guys are typically in their starched collared finest Guess and Armani dress shirts and stupidly expensive 7 jeans, tanned and gelled up within an inch of respectability and a little bit over sometimes.

Byron kind of swayed in with a white tank top on, regular dark jeans, a black skull cap and a modest sliver belt buckle. He didn't look a thing like anyone else there but was the best dressed one. He was observant and contained and confident, like Rat Pack kind of presence. I couldn't stop looking at him. I'd rarely reacted like that to anyone in my life so my conscious kind of split for a second as I continued to be unable to look at anything else in the club except him and marveled at the first-time nature of this experience and the attraction without any familiarity. It was new and pretty delicious. And all this without an introduction or even knowing that he was part of the Lady Sinatra crowd.

When introductions were finally made and I'd established that he wasn't a figment of my very single imagination I became further dithered out when, in an effort to make conversation and simply be near him, I asked him about this odd tattoo he had on the inside of his arm. I don't like tattoos very much, if at all. Sometimes they're not horrible but if anything, they're conversation starters. Unlike most Angelinos built like him, he didn't have some obtuse and out of place trite tribal tattoo. Instead he had a written paragraph. He got a little embarassed and asked if I knew of a book called "The Stranger" "You mean the 1942 definitive Existential treatise on Human Nature by Albert Camus?" I said "Never heard of it". We laughed and I felt Kathrine Hepburn-awesome for a minute or two before he disclosed that it had changed his life and had tattooed one of his favorite quotes on his arm when he graduated from high school.

*ding*

The kitchen time went off. I was officially done.

Tall? Check.
Literate? Check.
Insightful? Check.
Employed? Check.
Articulate? Check.
Music fan? Check.
Beautiful? Check.
Poised? Check

We never really talked after that 3 min of seemingly obligatory conversation. I think I saw him at one more show but then my friend and I stopped going for one scheduling snafu or another.

We never connected on MySpace. (That was back when it wasn't the WhoreTown/Pediphileville it is now) He didn't pursue a phone number or anything. I'm pretty sure there is a line of models lined up outside his apartment door. I don't think he'd remember me but I definitely remember him and getting knocked off of my 4" heals.

So this Thursday my friend and I are heading to a Lady Sinatra gig for the first time in forever. It's at the same old venue they always were. It's Joe's birthday and I think, if he hasn't received his angels wings and flitted off or been hijacked by human traffickers there is a good chance he might be there. :)

That would be a lovely birthday present indeed and yeah, I'm a bit excited.

Checking in

2010-07-29T01:09:00.001-07:00

After conversing with some besties on the subject, I think that it's time to give my poor dusty blog some love. I miss writing and, as narcissistic as a blog is in reality and theory, I do have a lot to say. Also, it's free and I find myself rather witty so I should make time.

I've had a number of ideas for posts:
Why I'm finally convinced that Disneyland is loosing it's soul
A nostalgic ode to the Huntington Library and why it defines awesome
My live music addiction
The new addition at work and my new glorious spot under the skylight and reason #4589 why my bosses rock
My new definition of "friends"
My opinion on LDS men and their frustrating discontents
My new-found terror at turning 32
My new abode
The utterly inadequate lighting in my new abode
My amazing new roommates in my new abode
Why life with a dog is different, better, and necessary
My new Life Hacks
My first Las Vegas wedding and my first night in the Paris Casino
My current obsession with Joseph Gordon-Levitt
Why Christopher Noland or Danny Boyle should direct every movie ever
... and a whole lot more.

But for now I think I'll just check in since it's been half of forever.

Firstly, to get that white-hot burning question of yours out of the way - no I am not dating anyone. No one is calling, no one has Facebooked, no one is texting, no one is asking about me and I don't have anyone in mind. I'm an involuntary Mormon Nun in training and there isn't much I can do about it. It makes me sad and I kind of hate talking about it.

Yes, both my visiting teachers are happily coupled girls, one of whom is engaged just in case I needed more reminders of my solo state I'm resigned to being pathetic in the matters of the heart and have healthfully turned my devotions to celebrities, personal hygiene, stray animals, dust bunny mitigation, CostCo deals, and Masterpiece Theater. You know, like every other forgotten 30+ single lady of substance.

I had a Wily E. Coyote moment today when I was cleaning up the dishes from dinner, being home alone. Both of my rommies are currently out of state on their respective summery galavants and I have been sans domestic company. About 3 nights ago when I was warming up some healthful taquitos I heard some shirty meeeowing at my screen door and I almost jumped out of my skin because there, on my porch, in the dusky sunlight was a yellow eyed, grey Persian mixed cat that looked EXACTLY like the cat I had growing up who had passed away a one-eyed, weathered, battle ax of a cat a few years ago. Yet here was her bright and brisky reincarnate at my door saying hello. Well, she was asking for food but I took it as a “hello”. I promptly gave her some of my taquito and we sat on the porch together for a tic. I just finished a book about Egyptian gods and looked at her yellow eyes and decided that The Universe (read: God) recognized that I was sans domestic company (my roommate even took the dog on her galavants. I mean, I know he is hers and all but seriously, leaving me with only fish for company… There was much sadness in the land.) I decided the cat was trying to be my friend and protect me till my people got back home. Cats were pretty badass per the Egyptians and the Egyptians knew their stuff.

Fast forward to my Wile E Coyote moment today… I was doing dishes and had put out some food for Temporary Kitty Friend and I noticed some more furry type activity out of the corner of my eye. Apparently she has a litter of 4 adorable kittens that she had brought for dinner as well. It was sweet for a moment. They’re kittens after all and then *boing* It hit me… the kitties, the conspicuous lack of partner or company, the catching up on NPR while drying my dishes in an overly tiled kitchen – I’d become the Cat Lady. I immediately turned on some obnoxious Lady Gaga or something and raced to my friend’s house but… um… yeah.

Moral of the Story: Don’t be too nice to memories from your Childhood. They could only be there to strap you to the wall of your Worst Fears. Fight the Power and fix your pets.

In other news: Work is going well. We've had a bit of a drop off in traffic on the website but we've learned that it's an industry trend and not just us thankfully. We're still holding strong in the black and the new website www.DesignShuffle.com is taking off well. A bit slower than we hoped but strong things are built bit by bit right?

I recently went shopping with my boss and a few coworkers at the LA Mart and California Gift Show for new vendors for our home goods website www.ArcadianHome.com. We have a bunch of home goods vendors right now but we were shopping for some more textiles and larger dollar items that could bring in more revenue for the same amount of footwork. Throughout the twelve stories of the LA Mart and 3.5 acres of vendors at the LA Convention Center I caught myself drooling over more than one rug or two but saw more pieces of pottery, glass, pot holders, stationary, stuffed whattuzits, curly potpourried whirlydoos and stamped and scrap booked cutsieflangles to do me for a lifetime. I’m convinced now, more than ever, that Americans have entirely too many THINGS, love THINGS, need THINGS, and pay a lot for THINGS and as such the market for THINGS is huge and silly. But it’s what gives me a paycheck every two weeks so I can buy my own set of things that I somehow don’t think apply to the rest of the things that are contemptible. Life is fair like that.

My hair is till red. I still love it. I finally found a girl I trust to do my red that isn’t my cousin that lives a rather inconvenient 800 miles away. She is the best I’ve ever come across but my new girl is also quite good, local, part of a family I adore, and moderately priced. Again, The Universe cares about the details of my life and knows I feel much better about it in red hair so he gave me someone who can do red. Because, frankly, red is not easy. And neither am I so we’re a perfect match.

There is a lot more going on but I’m sleepy I need to save some of my modestly entertaining life to blog about later.

But for the time being, think on this…

Who was the first Cat Lady? How did the idea first get it’s stigma? I’m at a loss.

Little Changes

2010-05-20T08:16:00.000-07:00

So I've decided that a Good Life is really just a cumulation of good habits.

In my experience with it thus far, Life comes at me in random and unpredictable spurts. There is little rhyme or reason to it from where I sit. A few Sunday School lessons, Holocaust stories, and observations of Middle Schooler's interactions has taught me that what determines whether it ("it" being Life in this case) is a good or bad experience is how you react to it right?

So reactions are pretty important.

Important stuff for me means planning and preparing and rehearsing and rewriting and editing and practicing some more and having your bff review and approve and planning etc.

But I've never really gotten a lot of lead time when big Life moments have come before and I feel, to an extent, that I've blown a few of them because I reacted poorly.

So, in an effort to focus energy on solutions and not problems I've thought:

"OK - I need to react well to everything so that when another Life moment happens I'll see it as just another thing and do well."

"Well" meaning: according to my faith, proportionally to the person and situation, respectfully, without entitlement, and with grace or "like a Lady" for short.

So practicing reactions is stuff you do every day. Then I realized that none of that is a new concept. They're called habits and people have been preaching this for years. Like I said before, I'm slow.

I've realize that I have many different habits. Stress habits, work habits, emotional habits, grooming habits, social habits, mental habits and I found good and bad ones all over the place.

So, therefore if my rhetorical calculations are right; if I change my habits I change my trajectory, or Life. That works for me.

On changing habits: my AP Physics class taught me that nature hates a vacuum. I can't just wake up and let myself think/ say:

STUPID THINGS ARE STUPID SO I'M GOING TO STOP DOING STUPID THINGS. RIGHT NOW. FOREVER. I'M GOING TO BE STUPIDLESS AND SHINEY AND GOLDEN! NONE SHALL THWART MY CARTOON APPROACH TO SELF IMPROVEMENT. I'M STRONG AND AMAZING. I CAN HANDLE IT.

Why yes my inner monologue is in caps, especially when it's being declarative (and irrational) and frequently sounds like Anne Shirley........ What? Don't judge me.

So I'm changing habits - going for the jugular if you will.

After listening to my initial reaction I hear my AP Physics teacher, Mr. Davis, say in is most somber voice "Nature hates a vacuum. Whatever is closest get's the job".

So the ripping out of a bad habit typically sucks in a neighboring (and sometimes worse) bad habit. Less effective**.

Sports and Music have taught me that excellence comes from doing the same thing over and over with consistent little corrections. One just doesn't go to water polo camp for two weeks and come back an Olympian***. One can learn a lot there, theory wise, technique wise even, but conditioning and repetitive, accurate, execution is the only thing that will ever make water polo player a good water polo player. Instant change isn't real change. My goal is a serious habit remodel so my initial/Annesque solution won't work. Ever. Hence, good habits are cultivated by practice to gingerly and deliberately replace bad habits. Like Indy at the beginning of Raiders of the Lost Arc. Not that I consider my disposition and approach to life a bag of sand - but you know what I mean.

Inconsistency is one of my bad habits. I never to go sleep at the same time or have the same thing for breakfast etc. This quality lends itself to a lot of complications so I'm taking and making opportunities to practice consistence. One of these is also an effort to enrich myself, make best use of my time, and create some continuity to my days. I've started listening to NPR on my way to work. I realize this isn't very news worthy or unique and I'm OK with that. There is power in simplicity.

I love NPR but neither habits or it are NOT the point of this post if you can believe it.

The point is; I've been following the most wonderful series/story and I want everyone I know to share the awesome.

Steve Inskeep from Morning Edition has been making his way along the Grand Trunk Road in India and Pakistan. One 5th of the world's population lives around there and over half of that area's population is under age 25. Seeing how small of a place the world is becoming I've realized and embraced the fact that these people are going to be my contemporaries, are going to change the world, and I am VERY interested to know about them and their lives.

I've just love-loved it. Give it a listen/read and tell me what you think. I'd really love to start a conversation about this.

**The Missionary Guide, or "Gia" as the Spanish types said, had a series of training modules. There was always a feedback section and I suppose in an effort to be positive, whoever wrote them only ever termed something as "Effective" or "Less Effective". It was this random ubiquitous phrase in our little worlds and took on epic meaning. If something was just beyond an epic fail it was "less effective", or as we said in the Spanish program "menos efficaz"

Rebuilding

2010-05-13T00:23:00.001-07:00

So I've been thinking lately...

My whole life I've been pretty definitive about things. My friend even described me as a "go getter" the other day. I thanked her but found myself really disagreeing especially in light of my life's pace as of late but with reflection realized, she was right.

I have proven to be a mover and shaker in my own life and to myself many many times. I used to go after the smartest and best looking boys in in the ward, Institute etc and more often than not, got them.

I went after jobs I wanted and got them. I went after the degree that I wanted and huffing and puffing achieved it. I saw some girls playing water polo during my 7 am swim class and just got up and decided to join the team. I pretty much Forest Gumped my way into a marvelous set of situations and a rather beautiful life. I was loved and had fun almost all the time. I realize this was all because in the back of my brain I had a plan. I am a planner. It's what I do. It's how God made me. If a pink rose and an itemized check list flew at each other with some pixie dust and mascara that would be me.

I went on my mission, came home, continued through school but bits and pieces of my plan started to flake and fall off in the wind tunnel that was my life. 25 came and went and I was not married nor with children but I still had Grad school and a fun teaching career to look forward to. Once graduation was a real thing in Dec of 2007 and I started the Grad School hurry-up-and-wait dance I knew it was just a matter of time. But the thin envelope came in April 2008 and if I was at liberty to have shut myself up for days I would have, not just mourning the lost opportunity and validation of grad school but because that was the last shingle of My Plan.

From there on out My Plan (read: life) came crashing down like a Jenga Tower.

* I didn't get into grad school.

* I had one of the worst break ups I've had yet that I really thought was going towards marriage.

* I had to let go of a torch I'd been carrying for a good long while and my sub-conscious back-up plan (marriage wise).

* I got laid off from my job.

* I had to find a new job in our HORRIBLE economy.

* My grandmother passed away

* My sister-in-law almost died and had my nephew 6 weeks early (that's pretty happy though)

* California's Education budget shut down enrollment in 90% of programs I could get into and/or were looking at.

I don't think that I've been the funnest of people to be around this last year and for those of you who have stuck around and still love me - thank you. I'm aware of what a bother I've been. How withdrawn I've let myself become, how moody and distracted I am. I'm sorry. I really really am.

It just hasn't been an easy time. I don't feel sorry for myself. I know there are a WORLD of people out there that have lost homes, lost hope, lost their families, lost health. I know my burden is comparatively light but it's still my little shattered world and these last 6 months I've been starting to pick up the pieces.

I did find employment and am enjoying it a lot.

My nephew remains one of the most adorable earthlings ever

And I've been getting to rebuild.

I've spent a lot of time constructing this life I though I should have and in doing so, I've forgotten a few of things. Namely, who I was and am.

For instance; I'm a self-proclaimed non-crafter. I don't really do cute very well. I'm lame at scrapbooking etc. I've felt unworthy as a female because my quilting skills don't go much beyond tying knots so I just put away the whole scene thinking there were other and better things to do. What I neglected to understand that though I don't need crafts I do need creativity. The majority of my creativity comes out in fixing things; mending socks, hemming pants, organizing drawers and closets. I'm a solutions girl I guess. Hence, when I was cleaning my room (in preparation to move) and doing a Goodwill purge I realized I found a large amount of sewing supplies strewn about and I thought to myself;

Self, you know, you really do like sewing and you're pretty good at it. You're just a really unhealthy perfectionist about it. That's all. Too many things have come easy to you so when something isn't perfect the second or third time you pick up a needle or paint brush you've dismissed it. That's ridiculous. You're human and the sooner you admit that and start working from that vantage point the better. You LIKE sewing and being creative. You've tucked this rather sizable stash of sewing supplies into different corners for the last 3 years. You need to just admit Crafty-proclivity and buy a sewing basket, centralize your efforts, and move on. It's OK.

So that's what I did. With the purchase of my Joanne's Clearance sewing basket I'm admitting my willingness to screw up in the name of progress and give up delusions of infallibility. I'm letting myself be creative again.

Pictures to follow.

This admonition has tree-branched out, in tandem with my impending move, to want to start from scratch.

Like most things, my emotional state is finding root in the physical world. Like, when I look around and start planning the move I find myself wanting to trash everything and start from scratch. Ditch all my clothes, ditch my furniture - everything. Just take my books, shoes and things I love and just piece things back together one by one. Fresh, new, and untainted with the last two years.

This has most acutely come out in the planning of my new living quarters.

I've got all new furniture picked out (mostly because mine is crap) and I've found it all on special or clearance :)

I've made a scaled layout of where it will all go. No.... seriously

and I've started making changes where I could. Principally in new bedding.

My decorating philosophy is find some art you love and make everything work around that. You've all seen the Flora half of Mucha's La Primavera that I love. Here is my framed print

And I've put together this for my sleeping abode

I looked and looked for a duvet cover that would work with Flora and I finally found this one at TARGET! Here's a close up

I could not for the life of me find a bedding set that didn't nauseate me or make me shake my head for the lost aesthetics that is the American Market Place so I knew I was going to have to piece things together on my own and hope the colors worked. I found the sheets and small red pillow cases at Bed Bath & Beyond on a clearance (670 thread count too!) and the Euro shams were another Target find. I had to get them there because they matched the underside of the duvet. :)

I'm pretty happy. I realize I'm turning into my mother, aesthetic-wise. But I think there are worse things. She's pretty classy.

This is only the 5th set of bedding I've ever had. isn't that ridiculous? I remember getting a rainbow comforter when i was about 6. Then when i was 10ish I got a similar one but instead of rainbows it was white with a multi-colored heart pattern grid on it. Then, when I was 16 or so, to thank me for helping her on one of her books, my mother's friend Lael Littke took me shopping for my next set of bedding. I used that till I inherited a California king bed from a wealthy aunt and uncle that were moving and I needed new bedding for that and found this lovely purple and sage green bed set at TJ Maxx by luck and spite. I just finished packing up the last of that set and am ready to move on to my first bed as a real adult. A Lady that is having to carve her way out of the doldrums and through the rest of the world one day at a time.

Checking In -

2010-04-12T23:59:00.000-07:00

Dear Blogosphere,

I've been absent of late. I realize it and I'm not apologizing. The truth of it all is, I haven't been doing well. I've had a cold and a sinus infection and all that but that's not what I mean.

I've been fighting the reds and the blues and the doldrums and the shakes and everything else more than the norm. I don't know if it's that in my weight loss and 2010 goal to Simplify and SLOW DOWN that I've just been getting more honest and I'm seeing myself and the world around me more clearly and it's pretty rough.

I'll be even more honest, I'm weary to talk about it here or anywhere frankly because, well, my blog readers are people I see and talk to rather frequently. I don't have the comfort of knowing my thoughts only exist for nameless people to whom I'm only marginally accountable. And frankly, those that I consider close don't really have an ear for me when I'm not doing well. They either don't know what to do with me or only know a fairly congenial Lizzie and are angsty at a change of scene more than the fact that I'm in pain or they think it's another hyperbolic rant and poo-poo whatever I've had to say in some polite-make-a-joke-quote-something-to-forget-it way.

There are a choice shimming few (you know who you are) who I can openly weep in front of and say that sometimes I'm so lonely it presses on me like a humid night or that I'm terrified I'm stuck where I am for the rest of my life and feel pretty powerless to change either. I can talk about that in front of you.

So for the most part I could just post quirky videos on here or jokes of pictures of my adorable nephew that makes me happy but also reminds me of how much I don't have and most likely, at this point, won't and now I have to hide those tears too.

But they run close to the surface, poking through at inopportune moments. Crying at kung fu cartoons about flying air bison or recounting a film about gorgeous clothes, poetry and love to someone just isn't normal.

Life has still gone on for me though.

I've paid off my car.

I've found some adorable dresses for my Year of Feminine Divine as seen:

here

here

here

here
and
here.

I've turned a corner and have actually fallen in love with a few designer purses; namely Gucci.

You know - having good taste can be very inconvenient. Especially when, for some reason, all of the purses you've every really loved or bought have all come together and coagulated into the glory that is Gucci's Classic Joy Handbag.

I know I'll never spend that kind of money on a purse but I'm really comforted to know that it's out there and that there is a bit of a reason for the Designer Handbags maelstrom of silliness.

I will be moving out at the beginning of June to live with a few friends for a few months. Both of them will be heading out to the wind come December but we'll be able to share this cute yellow house on a hill in Pomona for a season or two. I'm excited and have had fun preparing to have my own space again. I'm leaving a lot of things here so I've picked out a few new furniture pieces and some new bedding. It's been super fun. Jaqueloeen has made a few appearances. I've finally found the vanity of my dreams in my price range
and I've found a duvet comforter that makes me happy every time I look at it, which is it's job, and goes perfectly with my favorite Mucha I plan on putting up.

I'll take pics once I've got the whole thing laid out etc. I've even inherited some paint from all the construction at work to beautify things if we're allowed to paint.

I decided not to go to Coachella this year. My singular Coachella compadre (the rest of my friends list have utterly let me down in this regard) got called away on a business trip to Australia and the idea of camping and attending on my own sat well for a few weeks but got scarier as the time approached. I've admitted that my life is going to be one land mine after another so I Craigslisted my ticket and am trying to walk away graciously. I don't think I'll do a very good job of it. In fact, there is a good chance I'll be crying all weekend.

I've recently become obsessed with purse accessories too. Strange, I know but useful too. I've carried handkerchiefs around since I was 18 and have had an engraved cigarette case be my first aid kit since then too but I wanted a real mirrored compact and lipstick case and pill box and perfume atomizer and all that stuff you'd find in a Lady's purse from the 20's -50's. I've come across a LARGE number of accommodating sites with many engravable and adorable possibilities.

So far I've only scored this lovely black with clear crystal flower compact mirror, lipstick case, key chain set. Nothing too extravagant or silly. Not yet at least.

My hair is cute. My friend Mari and cousin Amber did me up well. Put in an adorable angled bob and colored me red again. It's a source of smiles for me.

But for the most part - that's it. I remain a pretty lonely, mediocre, non-grad schooled and undistinguished Lizzie that can't even bring herself to watch Lost or finish a book.

All the best for you,
Liz

Revival

2010-02-20T11:53:00.000-08:00

So upon reflection of a recent obtusely late night conversation with a friend I've gone back to my mental meanderings about the nature of Masculinity and Femininity in our 3 Wave Feminist world.

I've always been hyper aware of gender rolls growing up the single girl in a family of boys. I was always very much a lady but I enjoyed spending time with my brothers so I developed a love for a lot of "boy" things to do. We climbed a lot of trees and hit a lot of tennis balls against the garage and wrestled and cooked outside and made baking soda bombs and and broke stuff. I never really meshed with their video game fixation. I picked up books instead but that's OK. I've learned to love the same movies and TV shows and stories they did. I still thrill at Star Wars and can quote Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles verbatim.

I didn't play with Barbies but I was not without my dose of feminine awesome. It just came out in different ways. I did have very well tended and color coordinated Cabbage Patch kids collection. I always had a feminine instinct. I would spend all day climbing trees but I came home to a meticulously cleaned room and from utero I've always managed to construct a vanity type place with bottles and jars organized in size and frequently-used order. It still remains my dream to have a 3 way vanity like Scarlett does in Gone With the Wind with delicate mirrored trays of beautiful bottles bone handled brushes and combs. *sigh*....

I didn't over indulge in make up or hair exploits growing up because my mother brought me up saying "The greatest compliment a man can give you is 'You don't wear very much make up, do you?'". I was told I was wonderful and beautiful as I was and I grew to believe that. Make up was a luxury but not a necessity and only a performance under unforgiving AP stage lights was an excuse for a full face of make up. Ever.

I read Vogue (and still do) because it was beautiful to me and I'm a beauty routine junkie. I'm not sure you'll find a bigger exfoliant and mask fan than myself. Fashion is an art form and in some cases a huge source of comedy for me. Some people are just bonkers and I love that.

My mother kept a lot of balance to the Force in the house with uber-ladylike tendencies. I received a full education in Vivienne Leigh and Audrey Hepburn film and the virtues of good posture and how to throw a real dinner party and what being a hostess truly means and the virtues of true kindness and soft words, that feeding people is an art form and cooking is magic. I learned to walk in heals, dress for my coloring, write thank you notes, decline an invitation, and generally how to be a Lady despite a 2:1 testosterone/estrogen junction that was my home.

Likewise, as my mom was a Lady my dad is a Gentleman. He had a leather doctor's bag in which shave kit and routinely polished and buffed his shoes by hand, had a briefcase and Cross pens, owned a shop vac and knew how to start a fire. He also never said an unkind word about anyone in front of us, worked harder than anyone I've ever met, loved children and animals, and took every chance he could get to teach us something or tell us he loved us. He never complained and always found a way to make things work, usually including a lot of self-sacrifice. He was the son of a decorated WWII solider, a West Point inductee and my dad. My Old Spice smelling, patient dad.

So, in my young adult wanderings I've been very confused at

1) the lack of true masculinity in my world. Not brutish, immature, unmitigated testosterone that oft passes for masculinity but real Manliness. Tender, comfortable, strong, manliness.

2) the complimentary lack of real femininity. Not the petty, hyper sexualized, rude, loud, shrilly or over silly, bedazzled, flouncy, with fuzzy slippers girliness. Tactful, graceful, confident, bright womanly femininity.

I've done my best to be as good of a woman as I can be and hold myself to a Lady's standards as opposed to the girl that the Modern zeitgeist will let me be. I don't like myself in such stages. I've protested it to myself so much I think that, this year, I'm going to dedicate myself to the acquisition of a lot of amazing dresses and spend the next year in said dresses, or slacks if its too cold. For those who are privy to my rather punkish tendencies as an adolescent this may be a shocker. Yes I've essentially grown up in jeans, docs, waffle weave thermals and band tee shirts this might be a shocker but I'm liking the dress idea more and more. Hobos from the 30's dressed better than we do today. There are just no excuses.

I've been very warm towards the blog The Art of Manliness for a good long while now and I've only just come across the link he's put up for his free Guide to being a Gentleman in 2008 eBook. Yay for mentorship!

I, sadly, haven't found a comprehensive site like this on The Art of Femininity. I'm considering starting one of my own. Since its a journey type thing for me too. I, however, can see how this is a potential mine field because we've been told for a few generations now to "Be a man! That's how you're a great woman". I disagree with that. So maybe I'll speak to it more on here - I don't know. But I do know that the better men are at being Men the better women are at being Women and vice versa. So when one learns we all do.

Wednesday Giggles

2010-01-27T22:56:00.001-08:00

On Wednesday even! This is a rare occurrence.

So by the glory that is "Recommended Sources" from the "Explore" tab in my Google Reader I stumbled upon this brilliant blog - AKA The Oatmeal.

Along with forming a instant, firm, and well substantiated crush on such this blogger and his literate snarkdom, I pretty much laughed for an hour straight. This little quip is the tip of the iceberg.

I hope he doesn't mind my posting* this comic or linking to him but this was too good not to share.

*All of this hilarity was totally and completely brought to pass by Mr. The Oatmeal it all belongs to him *leagalmumbojumobbuttcoveringsemantics* and I'm not gaining any thing by posting except for maybe some cool points and from the look of the blog I'm fairly sure he can afford to spread those around and only 7 people read this anyway. Ka-POW

Wednesday Giggles

2010-01-16T08:16:00.000-08:00

Retroactive Style!!!

These are what gave me some of the best laughs this (and previous weeks)

This picture -

This video clip

This ad on Craigslist

This Orbitz Commercial

and this Kristin Chenoweth promo for the Critic's Choice Awards that shes hosting this year

VH1 TV Shows | Music Videos | Celebrity Photos | News & Gossip

DISFRUTA!

Lizzie's 2009 - Literary Edition

2010-01-01T16:05:00.000-08:00

So I'll admit it. I'm a learned English major type but do you know how many books I read on my "reading level" this year?

The big bagel - 0

I have found that when under duress reading is an escape to me. 2009, for the most part, = duress. Hence I have not been too interested in most grown up books.

I've got my daily blogs I read and stuff. I keep up with my Economist etc so I'm still reading grown up stuff per say - I'm staying informed. But in terms of the time I've taken to cuddle up with some glue, binding and black print I've been picky and I'll be honest... most of my reading has involved multicolored covered books that are found in the Adolescent Reading section of my B&N. They're simply the best kind of books. They're fantastic story telling, amazing characters, and pertinent plots but without all the angst and bawdiness that is so prevalent in most (grown up) fiction.

So I'm not sure how valuable a 2009 favorites list of mine would be to my faithful 7 readers but I think the books merit recognition anyway.

They're both series and they're both wonderful.

One is The Old Kingdom Books (ie Abhorsen Chronicles) by Garth Nix.
I've mentioned these previously on here when I was in the midst of them. They're just beautiful. Until my friend E recommended them to me, it had been a long time since I had come across a book that was original and written so gently and so brilliantly. Its a fantasy-genre book about a few magical girls named Sabriel and another named Lirael. Sabriel has grown up "across the wall" in a non-magical world but is a part of an intricate and beautiful magical civilization on the other side of the wall and its a story of their brilliant journeys. Its everything I love in books; strong but feminine female characters, humble Christian undertones, a good dose of fantasy and the impossible, music, a clear Good vs Evil story, and a beautiful love story.

The other series are The Percy Jackson and the Olympians Books by Rick Riordan.
I'm not sure if there is something else that has given me more giggles and absolute pleasure than these books this year, with the exception of my friends. Rick is another amazing writer that I kicked myself repeatedly for not discovering earlier. I love Greek Mythology and I love smart, character driven writing and I have a huge soft spot for scruffy, frustrated, brilliant kid types. I worked in a day care center my freshman year of college and I was routinely given the 4 year old A.D.D. kids (mostly boys) that always had dirt on their faces and ripped clothes and were constantly bored, and therefor rambunctious because they were so smart. Pipe-cleaners and circles didn't interest them, taking things apart to see how they worked and bugs did. They were my specialty. I somehow got them to focus and cooperate, or wash their faces and not destroy things for a prolonged period of time. I think its because I just loved them and in turn I LOVE Percy. He is one of those kids, my kids, and now I know why my kids were so squirrely and obstinate. I won't ruin the charm of these books by summarizing but I will say this; the Greek gods are still alive, they're still in charge, they're still moody, they're still having kids, they live in New York (Olympus is on the 800th floor of the Empire State Building), they're still fighting with each other and mortals are still in the middle of it all. There's a movie coming out soon but there's nothing better than those books. My children will have them and love them and be the heroes of their own lives.

So yeah - that's about it for my literary pursuits this year. I'll try harder next year. I promise.

Lizzie's 2009 - Movie Edition

2010-01-01T10:36:00.002-08:00

Its official. My family is completely made up of movie people. We like stories and we like art and we like music and movies are the perfect cross section of all of those.

I may or may not have a list in my blackberry of release dates of movies that I want to see, another list of movies that I have seen that year, and another list of movies recommended by other people that I should queue up on Netflix.

There also may or may not be versions of those lists for books, CDs restaurants, beauty products and comedians.

I like lists Okay! Don't judge. I also don't trust my memory and don't like forgetting things. I write things down. Its what I do.

*Theater releases*

The Brothers Bloom - I love love love smart movies and smart storytelling. I love caper flicks and I've had a massive crush on Adrien Brody since I saw him eating chicken fingers at the Johnny Rockets on Melrose once. All of these lovely things make up this movie. I also love movies that make you feel something without assaulting you, again deilvered with class and wit. Real wit. That's a rarity you know. It was directed by Rian Johnson (a relative new comer) but hes brilliant. It takes amazing acting/direction/editing to make the best character in the movie a completely silent one but they did it. Viva la Bang-bang

Bright Star - I was excited for this one for a while. Keats is one of my favorite poets on the planet. My senior quote was a line of "Ode on a Grecian Urn". I'm a raging geek. I know. I was an angsty profound adolescent at the time. Now I'm a silly over educated eccentric and I like it that way. I love Empire fashion and poets and chaste love stories. It was a perfect storm. Go buy it an love it today.

(500) Days of Summer - There is not a more perfect relationship movie out there than this one. It deserves every ounce of praise it got. I love Zoe Dechanel too. Not just because I've been told we look alike (which I find amazingly complimentary) but because she has the gift of coming off as genuine like the movie. Its a sweet, honest film and it was shot here in my beloved Los Angeles. My fair city isn't romanticized very often in film but it really is an enchanting city. The music was flawless, the characters are amazing, there is dancing in the park and animated birds and real tears or horror and its just an amazing bite of life.

UP! - I saw this with my Ace Gang and as the bunch of hyper intelligent and verbal girls that we are we ADORED this movie, cried through the last 20 minutes, and then proceeded to have an intense 40 min discussion about the concept of true love and relationships in the movie theater directly after the credits and shared stories about our families and lives. All of which was conjured up this movie. Its a cartoon but its that good. I'm convinced they mixed love, hummingbirds, babies laughter, daisies, saltine crackers and red balloons together one day and out popped this script and cast. I've never wanted to hug a cartoon character more than Russel. Except for maybe Appa

Star Trek - So not only have I been a Trekkie since I was a zygote, I love JJ Abrams. I think hes one of the best storytellers to come along since Lucas and when I heard the two were joining forces (Star Trek and JJ Abrams) I almost lost my hat. I was excited but scared because I knew this was either going to be mind blowingly amazing or a train wreck. There was no mediocrity option when working with a concept on the scale of Star Trek. Like, Godzilla doesn't just trip and scrape his knees up. A city gets destroyed in the process. I'm happy to report there was no city crushing. Godzilla danced Swan Lake and then made dinner. It was that good. I adore confident movies and this one was just that. It wasn't a remake. It was its own entity and it was brilliant. I've been a Chris Pine fan since Princess Diaries 2 and he was just amazing as Kirk. Kevin Smith said it right that only he could have played Kirk without doing a Shatner impression.

Theater releases that I think you should stay away from:
Year One - total Jack Black letdown. It just goes to show if you have horrible writing no amount of direction or acting can make up for it. Or bathroom comedy and heracy in this case.
I Love You Beth Cooper - I'm really glad I didn't pay for this movie or I'd be writing the studio.
Wolverine - It should have said under the title "starring Hugh Jackman's jeans" because they were the most interesting part of the whole movie. Once again - webbernet - hear me! If the writing stinks no amount of special effects or muscly arms can make a movie gel. Put the money in the writing and you'll be good.

*Netflix Exploits*

John Adams tops this list. I adore Laura Linney and John Adams is my favorite founding father. Mostly because he was always faithful to his wife. Abagail Adams is one of my heroes. As in capital "H" heroes. As in I want to name my future daughter "Abagail". I highly recommend the series and the book David McCullough wrote that inspired it.

I finally saw Wall-E and loved it. Yay for environmental treatises and yay for the Hello Dolly soundtrack.

I apparently have a lot of movie catching up to do because I hadn't seen American Beauty till this year as well. Like I've said before and I LOVE confident movies and this one defines that genre. I was speechless for about 5 min after I finished it. It was one of those moments when you get the feeling that you're in the presence of greatness. It deserved every single Oscar it walked away with. I could write blogs and blogs about how great this movie was but I'll spare you.

*TV Shows*

I'm so glad that TV has finally gotten its act together and hired some real writers and decent actors. Also, I think that DVDs have made TVs shows a bit relative. Like - I've discovered TV shows and bought the DVDs after they were canceled but they're still "my shows" that I regularly watch (re: Firefly, Arrested Development, West Wing). So considering that, along with Hulu it's a rarity that I actually view something on the day and time it airs or is even still *on* the air. I'm just not all with the TV in real time. However, there area few shows that I've discovered/been turned on to this year that I wasn't aware of before. I felt like my had my TV viewing time full with my regular LOST and 30 Rock exploits but now, thanks to the good taste of my amazing friends I've been turned on to

Glee - as a former band and choir nerd I feel an alarming connection to this show. It makes me happy and I am SO glad that music and dancing and art and expression are starting to come back into the public eye as SOMETHING IMPORTANT that needs to be funded in our schools and is essential for healthy development as an individual. Go dust off your clarinets and dancing shoes people. It's time to be ourselves again.

How I Met Your Mother - NPH is back in the saddle and that makes me happy.

Bones - I just kind of want to be her.

I don't have enough time to be this entertained but they're such good shows!

Alas - I must peel my face off of whatever relative screen it's been looking at for the last few hours and go smell a flower or something.

May 2010 be as full of wonder and bonding type media as 2009 was.

Lizzie's 2009 - Music Edition

2010-01-01T07:59:00.000-08:00

It's been a difficult year. This is no secret. I've have a number of life preservers that have gotten me through it but the principle one has been and will always remain music. I would be a boring, bitter, lost, and severe person without it.

My musical 2009 reads thus:

*new Artists discovered/been turned on to/finally listened to my friends and checked out and have hence loved*

Joe Pug - thank you NVIII
viva gmail statuses and their informative power

Phoenix - thank you Lauren W
You're my guru.

Elizabeth and the Catapult - thank you Greg for choosing them to tour with you

Regina Spektor - thank you Hannah
Best. Road. Trip. Sing-along. Buddy. EVER.

Missy Higgins - thank you Nickie
You are made up of good taste and tenacity.

The Rescues - thank you Hotel Cafe.
You never stop giving.

Christopher Lawrence - thank you Coachella
VIVA the Sahara tent!

Groove Armada - thank you (again) Coachella and Lauren W (again)
You are King and Queen of Concerts.

*most listened to Albums of 2009*

In Rainbows - Radiohead
I took a break from it for a while but when I went back to it this year it was exponentially more amazing. Radiohead is truly on my Top 5 Favorite Bands of All Time list.

Nation of Heat - Joe Pug
This music has made me a changed woman. I feel my consciousness elevate every time I listen.

On a Clear Night - Missy Higgins
Her voice and songwriting is just addictive. I love love love her.

Only by the Night - Kings of Leon
Just when you thought Nashville would stop surprising you...

Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix - Phoenix
Its about time someone wrote a song about Franz Liszt. Thank you Frenchies for hearing the call.

Tall Children - Elizabeth and the Catapult
I'm really glad I saw them live before I bought the album because though this album is very good they're amazing live and I got to relive that lovely set every time I listened.

*Concerts*

COACHELLA - Indio Polo Fields, CA
I have a very long list of favorite things but a very short one of perfect things. I think perfection is possible but in moments and I've been able to be privy to a few.

Family hugs in the Celestial Room of the Temple
The rose garden at the Huntington Library in Spring
George Washington Parkway in Fall
Disneyland at Christmas
and the 3 spring days of the Coachella Music Festival

This was my first year going and it gave new definitions to "amazing" and "awesome". It truly was, as in inducing the state of awe. I went a few concerts this year but nothing, I think, will ever compare with those 3 days. Nothing. Except for Coachella 2010. Hopefully.

Phoenix - Greek Theater, CA
Ever have a platinum kind of friend having a birthday and despite your unemployed and impoverished state insists that you come and are therefore dragged to an outdoor amphitheater during a California September at night with about 15,000 hipsters and a crazy fun, smart and happy French band and end up forgetting your rather heavy mind for a tic and end up dancing your butt off after a euphoric tapas dinner? I do/have.

Greg Laswell - Murray Theater, UT
Ever been in a really strange place, staying on a loved one's air mattress during a really stressful time without your wallet and you just needed a little bit of home and to not feel like a bump on the stump of humanity, just for an hour even, so you see, via twitter (it does have its uses people), that (one of) your favorite musicians is playing a local theater that night so you call one of the best concert buddies ever that's local and it turns out to be a set of your fav artist (even though you've been to about a squillion of them) that is EXACTLY what you needed and openly wept at more than one song and still have parts of it videoed on your camera and still cry every time you watch it? I have/did/do.

Gas Light Anthem - The Music Box, CA
Ever randomly win tickets from a radio station via text messaging to a concert of a band that you're still pretty new to but know people that really like them and you like those people so it must be worthwhile and you take your friend who managed to make it into her late 20s without ever going to any kind of concert ever and that just wouldn't do? I have.

India Calling! - Hollywood Bowl, CA
Every get a random phone call from a musician friend that had tickets for a World Festival concert a the Hollywood Bowl and she "couldn't think of anyone else that could appreciate World Music like you" and you've often said that you would go see The Wiggles if they were playing the Hollywood Bowl because you love that venue so much (and you're kind of afraid someone might call you out on that someday) so you pack a picnic dinner, hike up to your seats essentially having NO idea what to expect but are ready for an adventure and the Bowl keeps filling up with EVERY kind of fun person imaginable and you end up having a multicultural music and dance-in-the-isle good time with the slew of anglo 14 year old girls in front of you and the insanely large Indian family that managed to sit in the rest of the area around you and you realize that this is the best party you've been to in a while and music really can bring anyone and everyone together without pretense and you're already in love with Indian food and literature and fabrics and art and now their music and people just found a permanent place in your heart? It is seriously good times. And they give you grab bags and incense when you leave. :)

Joe Pug - The Mint, CA
Ever rapidly and utterly fallen in love with an artist and hes still pretty unknown and isn't from your area so the only thing you pray for to the music gods is for him to play a set in your area soon and you get wind that he is but only remember about an hour before the show that it was that night. So sans wingwoman you jam out to a tiny venue that doesn't use tickets or a list even to see this mesmerizing man that can still a room with a glance and one harmonica cord but are a bit self-conscious about being there by yourself so you randomly start talking to a table of people and end up sitting with them for half the show and the other half you take your black notebook and pretend to take notes like you're a writer for Spin or something but truly believe you are witnessing greatness happening in front of you? Yeah - that would be me.

Wow - looking back this was a really great year for concerts. I'm amping up for another one and soon. Joe is going to be back at The Echo in LA in Feb. and I might or might not already have tickets.

There were a few shows that I had to pass on because, well - tickets are expensive and I wasn't working for 7 months out of the year...

Bon Iver
Swell Season
Imogen Heap
Depeche Mode
Jason Mraz and a slew of others. I really wonder if I can make a living out of just going to concerts... I do it so well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you were wondering, and only IF, here is my complete concert breakdown from 2009

Coachella:
The Presets
Paul McCartney
The Crystal Method
Zane Lowe
Calexico
TV on the Radio
Fleet Foxes
Thievery Corporation
Band of Horses
MIA
The Chemical Brothers
The Killers
Super Mayer
NoAge
Friendly Fires
Okkervil
The Gaslight Anthem
Sebastian Teler
Lupe Francisco
Lykki Li
Peter Bjorn
Anthony and the Johnstons
Perry Farrel
Pump DJs
Yeah Yeah Yeahs
The Horrors
Christopher Lawrence
The Cure

* The Rescues - The Hotel Cafe
* Laura Jansen - The Hotel Cafe
* Greg Laswell, Elizabeth and the Catapult, Jordan Booth - Murray Theater
* Refueled (Fuel) - Mesa Crossing
* Phoenix - The Greek
* Gaslight Anthem & Murder by Death - The Music Box
* Friendly Fires, XX & Holly Miranda - The Music Box
* Snow Patrol & The Plain White T's - SDSU
* Justin Nozuka, Elizabeth and the Catapult, and Sam Bradly - The Glass House
* Every touring Indian musician ever @ INDIA CALLING! - The Hollywood Bowl
* Joe Pug - The Mint

Wednesday Giggles

2009-12-30T09:25:00.001-08:00

I'm pretty anxious to say goodbye myself. This one has been a doozie.

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

Jacqueolinne Moments

2009-12-30T09:09:00.000-08:00

So my new job has many perks, the principle one being that I totally love it and that my bosses are straight out of the "What's Wonderful About This World and How To Be Perfect" handbook. It exists. I've seen it on Amazon...

But that is beside the point.

The point (of this post) is to officially recognize that there is a good chance I was an interior designer in a different life. I have made this discovery in a few different steps. I will describe them to you in depths if you wish, but now, working where I do, I have AMPLE opportunity to give rise to her. My inner Designer whom I've decided to call Jacqueolinne (zzzz-ack-oh-lean).

I think it started when I was 8 or so and my mom said it was time to get some new bedding for me. We found this very Punky Brewster rainbow and heart bedspread from the Sears catalog. Rainbows were my signature color as a child, rainbows and Hello Kitty. The icing on the cake was this red heart shaped wicker mirror that I got to go along with the set. That mirror was the prize of my frustrated childhood life.

The process of this decor selection was very formative for me I think. I spent hours, and I mean HOURS, going through the home goods portion of the back of the Sears catalog. I would just skim past the clothes and toys and purses and shoes and go straight for curtains and rug combinations. I did so with every Sears catalog I got my hands on from then on out.

I think the next phase of it was when I finally got my own place at 26. I kind of went bonkers looking for prints of art* that I love and finding the perfect frame. Or making a perfect set of something by dismantling Dollar Tree frames and cutting out bits of William Morris wrapping paper I loved and had saved.

I think I'm a shameless homemaker at heart. I think I kind of just want a space and a reason to make it comfortable, functional, and beautiful.

I think I'm this way because of a combination of things. So far I've traced it back to my mother's flawless taste in decor, my childhood at the Huntington Library, the other half of my childhood at The Gamble House and a plethora of period British film viewings..... and the a fore mentioned Sears catalogs

So loving something isn't real until you share it right? Hence the new blog bit. I am so in love with some things that I just need to share and I'm POSITIVE there will be more so LADIES and GENTLEMAN! - Jacqueolinne Moments are here!

One of the things that I adore and always will is Tiffany lamps. Tiffany and I are just meant to be. In every way. About 3 years ago I was thumbing through some magazine or another and saw a cognate of this lamp

and pretty much fell. in. love. Being the seasoned lighting and home goods guru I am now I can authoritatively tell you that this is a Dale Tiffany lamp and the flagship of their Boehme Family.

I thought to myself "Self, what an absolutely PERFECT centerpiece for a front room. Its far to poof-poof to be put in an every-day-used room. But it would be something lovely to see set center on a console table (or short bookcase) that backs on to a couch that looks on to the rest of the room when you first walk in to your place. What a lovely thing to welcome you home every day."

Every time I see it I have the same revelation. It doesn't get old to me. Don't be surprised when you see it in my abode one day. I'm making plans.

Another thing that I LOVE are tapestries. I know. I know - "this is not the 1400s Jacqueolinne! We don't need to insulate our castle walls anymore."

But hear me out - one of the best ways to make color work, move, and NOT take over a space but compliment it (in my drastically uneducated but observant opinion) is through texture. I'm a big texture person. I think it adds layers to space that you can't get with light, color or sound. Hence my love of tapestries. Its like art^2 (that's art-squared or times itself for the non-scientific calculator types).

Also - I have a shortish list of favorite artists one of which is William Morris**

His work has so much movement and grace to it in the first place, that coupled with my fascination with tapestry would make for a perfect storm. So imagine my joy when I found this product made by Fine Art Tapestries.

This is Morris' version of The Tree of Life. I like my decor, especially my art, to be reflective of me as a person and I'm deeply religious and this piece of his has always resonated with me and NOW its available to me at cost (a nice work benefit) AND in a color scheme that matches my lamp!! Its meant to be.

But....

The existing front room furniture I have etc is not really in the warm earth tone spectrum, its all lovely different shades of green. So I found these two substitutes and I can get and use my lamp for something else somewhere. Maybe - I don't know. I'm just having fun really.

and

I kind of like the green tapestry better anyway to be truthful, but it would, clash with/compete with the Boehme lamp so I had to find a suitable substitute. Ah and alas... what a hard imaginary life I lead.

Its hard to be so fabulous but someone has got to do it - right?

* I have this decoration philosophy; some people think time era or color scheme but I'm all about the art. I think you should select one piece of art that you REALLY love and frame that exactly how you want it to be and then let that dictate all your color scheming, lighting, and textile choices. Its all about the art and always will be.

** the others being:
VanGogh - who I think is WAAY overdone decor wise
Mucha - if you've seen my house you know this
Klimt - I just adore him and I don't know why. I've had "the Kiss somewhere in my view in one form or another since I was 12
and as cliche as it is - Michaelangelo

On the Heath

2009-12-27T23:22:00.000-08:00

I'm not happy tonight. I don't like the fact that I only seem to blog when I'm unhappy. It gives the blog this theme of angst and lame but usually two things move me to write; absolute disgust or absolute joy.

I've been finding very little of the latter recently so here I am.

I've been stewing about a number of things lately, one of them being my sad love life or complete lack thereof.

I recently found out that a gent that I have LONG admired (read: been borderline obsessed with) has found the girl of his dreams. I'm sorry to report that that girl was not me. Now, I know that I have a very bad habit of only really being attracted to very unavailable guys. If they're ridiculously complicated or live far away or are just plain not good for me they're usually at the top of my list. Why I do this, I don't know. But this particular guy, absent of any real potential between us, gave me hope.

I was reaching disappointment levels with the LDS guys in my immediate sphere of influence that was rivaling the Absolute 0 temperature of space. The majority of them for no menacing reasons, simply bored me. There was little depth, passion, sense of self or grit to any of them. Emotional lawn ornaments if you will.

I realize this is unkind, but know I'm in a pretty foul mood and that gets me more honest than is socially acceptable sometimes. But this is my blog so recognize or piss off.

For me to be attracted a guy needs to be interesting. A wealth of Will Ferrell quotes, video game prowess, having read a few obligatory books and a newsie cap from the 9th grade does not qualify as interesting. I've always said I wanted to marry a convert to the Church or someone that has fallen away and then come back. I've recently realized that I feel that way because I would like a companion with a bit of perspective to him.

This particular gent who has recently coupled up with someone that is not me was, to me, this kind of a guy. He was still very much a guy and played more video games than is probably good for a him. But he was also thoughtful and truly kind and loyal. He went looking for experiences, didn't poo-poo art or feelings. He was honestly good and capable of honest love. I loved him for that. And now hes gone along with most of my hope. I felt that I may have to deal with a bunch of testosterone-deficient sillies here, but because he was still in the world somewhere, that kind of real masculine tenderness was still around, that there was still hope for the rest of us.

I reacted a lot more strongly than I thought I would. The news took couple of days to really settle in but once it did it took me 2 days to stop crying. I know its ridiculous. I realize that 90% of this build up and let down is in my head and that a prolonged everyday encounter with this particular Adonis would reveal that he was just as much of an emotional lawn ornament as I'm currently dealing with. This information is ready and at the forefront of my fluff-for-brains. However it doesn't comfort me at all. This isn't a logic problem and never was. This is a heart issue and mine is unusually large, tender, gullible and bruises easily. It is very much like my 2 year old self that wouldn't stay inside where it was safe and warm and frequently ran out into the snow sans shoes just because I wanted to be there and it seemed like a more interesting place to be. The balm of logic has no sway over gaping wounds of the heart and never will.

I theoretically know that what he was to me, what I was truthfully in love with, was an idea that he well embodied. Its precisely this that makes him so much of a greater loss. He's not just another man married and gone; its my belief in a good one. In a brave one. In a tender one. In a real man. I have been failed by every single one I've encountered so far.

I feel very lost, disappointed and bored with everything around me. Especially myself.

I don't like it at all but this disillusionment has diffused into every corner of my life. I find myself totally stripped of any cushion of idealism that I had before. I seem to have put it all away and are seeing the hard ugly edges on everything; my academic life, my career, my past, my future, my family - everything.

The sad truth is that the world is pretty ugly cold place. Some people get to go through it with someone and some don't. There are moments of beauty, flashes of warmth and real connection. I still cherish those and recognize them for what they are. They are the flowers that grow between the rocks.

But the rocks remain rocks and my thin skin tears easily.

Trouble! That starts with "T" and that rhymes with "P"

2009-12-14T20:49:00.000-08:00

and that stands for.... Perfection.

So I know my proverbial Shelves are quite dusty. I've been gone for a month bring busybusybusy and always thinking. I've had a number of things I've felt were writing worthy (read: "blog-worthy" but I hate that phrase) and a few things that were just fun.

I have had a few profound thoughts about Muppets and traffic patterns and I have a new fashion crush that I'll get to. I'm instituting a new weekly staple: Fashion Friday! Many frivolous and totally uneducated but enthusiastic opinions to come. You've been warned.

My time going from funny thing to funny thing on the webbernet has been cut down drastically by this new concept called a "job" so I've been running thin on material but I'll do my best to keep Wednesday Giggles going as well. Have no fear.

However for today - there is something that I feel the need to be bloggy about. Its something I've felt a serious contempt for lately. More than I usually do too and it is the irrational Culture of Perfectionism I've been a personal witness to (read: victim of) as an American, as a woman, as a member of my family, and as a member of the LDS faith. I truly eschew it. I find it to be more debilitating than any behavior modifying medication, illegal, or abusive substances. Its horrible and its a mental game that we've all bought into.

Preemptive disclaimer: LDS-wise, Christian-wise, I am actively choosing to be a follower of Christ. He was perfect, is perfect. In every sense of the word. He invited me to be like Him, or in otherwise perfect. However - what I seriously overlook sometimes is that, for ME, its a process. Its a day to day effort of trying to be better, of practicing excellence. I whole heartily embrace that concept and hold it VERY close so please don't mistake my rants on here as me defending lethargy, laziness, thoughtlessness or selfishness. Quite the opposite. I've found the more I've prayed to see, work, and react to my world in love, in Godly love, that the stronger these ideas grow in my mind.

The gist of it is - we totally don't get it. We don't understand Perfection. We think we do but we have no clue. ESPECIALLY how to get there.

I think that our concept of perfection is cantankerous. It is something that eats at us, breaks us down, discourages us and defeats us before we ever start anything. It is an arresting concept to us.

A bit of background;

I'm a dyslexic kid. I always have been. I had to learn a lot differently than the rest of the world and I did so by learning to listen very close to what people said to me and to recognize patterns. In turn these default mental settings have helped me to become a fairly perceptive (and introspective) adult. As much I've come to realize that I was also surrounded by a lot of excellence as a kid.

Let me clarify terms here too.
Perfection is basically a 4 letter word to me. Its alienating and just conjures up frustration. It instantly inspires disappointment and inaction. I'm not an inaction kind of girl.

Excellence (to me) is a quality that chases a moment or is made of a bunch of little moments that string a beautiful something together. Its a much more obtainable thing, for me at least. Its a concept thats possible to made into a habit, to be learned, that incorporates a process of thinking, action, reaction, assessment, modification and reapplication. I love it and find it a much more healthier governing value.

I will be using those terms to explain myself from here on.

This all may be disjointed and far too long of a post but bear with me.

I'm surrounded by a lot of perfectionists, family, friends and what not. I don't like what it does to them. I don't like who it makes them become. They become ridged, severe, censuring people. This isn't necessarily expressed and lashed outwards. Its worse. These people ruthlessly beat themselves up because they're not perfect despite their best efforts. Because they're not successful, wealthy, ruthlessly sought out by the opposite sex, Olympic athletes and American Idols they're a failure. They beat themselves up and worse, they stop trying. They stop trying to be better, to think harder, to take a different angle on something. They give up because they've bought into this air brushed, pedestaled ideal of "how its supposed to be" and if its not that way it doesn't count.

I flat-footed and bold-faced rebuke that idea.

When did it become a mortal sin to fail at something? I've heard failure regarded as the last great American taboo. We won't talk about it. We fear it. We hedge up our entire lives avoiding it, denying that it even exists. Well - its here, its real, its an everyday reality and most importantly its NOT our enemy.

I may be an absolute fool but failing at something isn't a crime. If you only stay on a meal plan for 2 weeks or if you fail a class or if you lose a game or declare bankruptcy. That's not the worst it can get. Those aren't good things by any means, but they're not the worst thing either. GIVING UP is a much greater offense. Not trying again, not learning, not growing, losing love for yourself - THAT is greater sin. That is what my prayer is that we can shift our cultural disgust for that character flaw.

Its a delicate insanity that we even subscribe to this perfection thing because we're all human. We all make mistakes. We all get angry. We've all skinned our knees. We've all broken someone's heart or drove by someone that needed help. We've ALL cursed at one point or another. We all have scars. And you know what, all that to me is beautiful. All of that is a lived life. And the fact that people are still getting up, are still saying their prayers, are still attempting to tell someone that they love that they love them, to love themselves. THAT is excellence. That is real courage, to not be defeated by the mistakes you made yesterday.

I mean, where did we even pick up this idea that we have the luxury of giving up? Life doesn't stop because of one defeat, one disappointment, even a string of defeats or disappointments. Life is a 90/10 game. 90% of our day is muck, it's struggle, its heartache (and believe me, I'm carrying a very heavy heart right now), its inconvenience and dirt. But 10% is pay off, is getting it right, and getting it right the right way (that does mean something and makes sense. Just think about it a little), and you know what. I'm OK with that.

I know I have a good many regions in my life that I need to improve, that I've failed at, but you know what? I am not my defeats. I am the string of small moments after those defeats that gets back up and tries again.

And - well - thats all I have to say I guess. Be nicer to yourselves and keep trying.

Updates

2009-11-07T15:32:00.000-08:00

So its been a month since my last post and a lot has gone on so I feel like I should do an update of kinds just to touch base with my 7 besties and Grandma and Grandpa who read my blog ( hi Grandma and Grandpa!!! :D <---- that's a really big smiley face.) Work wise

I have two jobs now. I've been working both since the end of September and I really like both of them. The first is doing logistics/customer service this lighting company. I never thought I'd ever be involved in the lighting industry but here I am and I really like it. We contract with over 75 different manufacturers and maintain a very lovely website. Its a perfect balance for my personality I think. Its extremely technical, like people call up and need to know about ballasts and voltages and transformers and all this stuff and guess who has been scrambling to learn about electricity and wiring and all of this builders code stuff? That's right - Lizzie. So the incessant technical side of my brain is satiated. But also, I get to look at pretty stuff all day and help people decorate their homes an answer their questions and ask questions of other people and do logistics. All things I love and am very good at. Also, I sometimes have to deal with unruly people and I've had a lifetime of talking people off of ledges so I'm primed and ready for that. Also, I get to talk to some of the coolest people on the planet. My newest friend is a lovely woman named Barbara. Shes from New York, "Manhattan mind you". Shes Jewish, 75, sassy, and awesome. Shes called me about 16 times in the last 2 weeks helping her with her new torchiere. Now let me tell you something, if you can maintain a straight face while listening to a slow talking, geriatric, Jewish, New Yorker like Barbara saying "torchiere" every other word you deserve a metal. When I was inventorying what I needed out of a job to be happy "working with people" was at the top of the list and I sure as heck got it.

Better than the job are the people there. My bosses are stellar. I think this is the first job I've had where my bosses work harder than I do. They make me look lazy everyday and I like that. Leading from the front is how I was brought up and its really the only kind of leadership I respect and there they are. They're actually respectful too. Like, my boss comes up to me and says "Are you busy? Do you have a moment? Could you help me with this?". The first time I was approached like this I seriously think my mouth was agape. I had never experienced that kind of interaction with a boss. Ladies and gentleman, I am her to announce that manners are not extinct. They are rare though and my boss actually has a good portion of them. They're a really generous company too. They take us out to a fancy, like $20 a plate, lunch every month, we get bi-yearly bonuses, and comprehensive benefits. My bosses/the owners (they're on and the same) really seem to understand the concept of human investment and I'm still finding it bewildering. I have been very blessed with what I've stumbled on. I really like my coworkers too. Like, they're all amazing. We're all really bright, tough, sassy, but compassionate women. Doing customer service isn't easy folks. There is a balance of hard a**ness that you have to balance with compassion as well as making sure the company makes money and you don't get hustled. And you have to constantly be doing 4 other things while you're having these tough conversations. It takes a special kind of intelligence and K and T (those are the owners/my bosses) know how to interview/hire because everyone there is all of those things.

And this is something else that is weird - everybody there puts in a full day. Like, everybody! Everybody works as hard, if not harder than me. This is a new experience for me. I'm used to being the hardest worker and everyone else, essentially, kind of working, but everyone there, from what I can see, has the same work ethic that I do. Its good to feel equally yolked and on a team. Its a first and its awesome.

My second "job" is a tutoring gig and I've met a few of my students but between logistics and paperwork I've only met a few of my students so far so there isn't much to report. I adore the students that I have met though and can't wait for it to finally get in gear.

Love Life -
No news but what else is new? I kind of don't want to talk about it. I always get really down and negative and I don't like Negative Lizzie. She can be kind of nasty.

In Other News -

I'm still making the most of my Disneyland Annual Pass. We just finished the Halloween merriment and Christmas goes up November 13th and there are fewer things in this world that I love more than Disneyland at Christmas. I kind of can't wait. Like at all.

A few of my friends and I have decided to learn Latin. I know - I know.... I'm a raging geek. But I've wanted to do this and it seemed like an opportune time. My friend, A (who has her PhD in English, Linguistics, Chaucer and general coolenss), who is a college professor is on sabbatical this quarter and is getting a bit restless, AND there is another amazing lady in our Circle of Awesome, N, that is in the thoroughs of gradschoolness and has opted to test out of the Language portion of her Masters and has decided to take the Latin test. However, she has a limited Latin background, and then the other two of us, myself and the glorious W are just general informatiophiles and want to know Latin. So... we decided to form a group. The W.L.A.N. Latin Extravaganza!!! A went and bought text books even. She "couldn't help herself" and we are conjugating czars at the moment. Can I say anything yet or even put together a cogent sentence in Latin? Nay - am I having fun? You bet :D and that's what its about right?

I was a Guinevere/Viking lady for Halloween and feel asleep appallingly early on both Friday and Saturday of the holiday this year. I'm turning into such weak sauce. If its past 11 my head begins to nod and I start talking in non sequiters. Its hilarious but not too useful on the social end of things.

I've decided to give the iPhone a try. I'll let you know how it goes. I'm not looking forward to AT&T in the least but the iPhone has become a machine that I can't keep ignoring. They're the closest things to crystal balls that I've seen yet and literally EVERYTHING is the world is on them. I'm all about device integration and the iPhone is just about everything. Its a phone, a computer, an iPod, a Kindle (which I kind of want too), a GPS, a mapbook, a TV sometimes, and a good paperweight when the battery is low. I'll make a full report soon. And I'm not going to lie, I've done some research on cute phone cases.

I think I've decided to dye my hair red again and its at that length that I'm really sick of it and all I do is keep it up in a loose sloppy bun all day. So I'm thinking this cut (its called a V-line, or an "angled bob"

and this color.

What do you think? Seriously, let me know.You guys are the ones that have to look at me.

That's honestly about it for now. I live a pretty boring life truthfully

My car needs an oil change

I need a new case for my Macbook.

I'm in the midst of a Disney flashback on the Netflix front. I've got The Great Mouse Detective and Pete's Dragon this week.

I'm truly in love with Aveeno beauty products. On top of their face wash, moisturizer, and amazing body lotion I'm using their shampoo and conditioner now too and am quite pleased. I've spent twice as much on half as good products in the past but Aveeno is some of the best stuff out there. Seriously. Get some.

Target has a new line of designer Remington hair straighteners that I bought for $20 and LOVE it.

I get to puppy-sit my friends dog over Thanksgiving, which I'm really excited about. I'm also house sitting in a big empty house for a weekend so if you're feeling a slumber party hit me up. I'll need some company.

My brother found a ringtone of Cartman singing Lady Gaga's Poker face and its been making my life quite funny

And that's truly about it.

I love you guys to pieces. That too. Tis the season to be grateful and I am. Hugs all around.

I have a few concert reports and such but I'll get to that later. Latin and homemade lasagna beckons me....

Important Numbers to Me Right Now

2009-10-10T19:10:00.000-07:00

167 - days till COACHELLA 2010

15 - minutes of a traffic-free drive I have to work now

6 - awesome co-workers that I have, weeks I'm overdue for a haircut, and days till I see Snow Patrol in San Diego with L-Dubbs, days till I get paid

8 - feet my boss' desk is from mine

46 - days till Christmas at Disneyland starts

37 - days till Thanksgiving (that I'm hoping to cook this year)

81 - days till my little brother gets home from his mission and how many days I have to find a place to live

76- days till Christmas

56 - days till my nephew gets blessed and I get to see him again.

9 - the amount of healthy child bearing years I have left

0 - potential suitors I have vying for my attention, dollars I have to pay for grad school, and amount of patience left I have with EDD

1080 - miles I am from my best friend

60,000 - how many dollars I'll most likely need for grad school

5 - amazing Percy Jackson books I've discovered, times I've gone to bed before 10 this week,

43 - days till I see Joe Pug at The Mint with whomever enlightened soul wants to come with

43,456 - times I've been amazed at what a charmed life I've got

Media Corner

2009-09-15T11:56:00.000-07:00

So I've got a bit of time on my hands but even when I don't I'm a HUGE media consumer. Music, movies and books pepper almost every corner of my life. This is what I've been the most excited about recently or am very much looking forward to.

MOVIES

So I think, Summer wise -

My favs were Star Trek, (500) Days of Summer, The Brothers Bloom, Up, Harry Potter 6, and Taking Woodstock

Honorable mentions but not favs include: Moon, The Proposal, Ice Age 3, Julie & Julia

Train wrecks would be: Year One, Transformers 2, and I Love You, Beth Cooper

And ones I missed that I still want to see are: My Life in Ruins, Food, Inc, Whatever Works, The Hurt Locker, Funny People, The Cove, Paperheart, and Ponyo

However, I was paroussing my favorite release site that includes all the indie flicks the big box ones don't and there are more amazing films coming out this holiday season. Its a great time for movies I think. A lot of indie writers are getting money and there is just a lot of talent out there right now.

What I'm looking forward to in September is -

Coco Before Chanel with the timeless Audrey Tautao from another fav Amalie

October is looking like a solid month

Where the Wild Things Are

The Invention of Lying

November starts all the Christmas Season blockbusters; Disney's Christmas Carol, The Princess and the Frog, yeah yeah yeah

but some good indies are coming out too that I'm sort of in love with already

The Boat that Rocked

And December has a crown jewel. They've recovered a lost screenplay Tennessee Williams was working on and made it and its coming out on Dec 20th!! I'm SO excited!

MUSIC

Joe Pug. I started watching this video prompted by a gmail status of a fellow musicphile. I was a bit skeptical and hes not exactly a trained voice but I was transfixed. It had been so long that I had heard such good writing so honestly sung. I'm kind of in love with the guy now. Hes coming to The Mint in Oct. I'm going. Tickets are $10. Let me know if you want to come. I'm pretty sure it will change my life. My friend who tipped me off when he saw him said it was so beautiful he almost cried. I. Cannot. Wait.

I caught a Greg Laswell set when I was in SLC this summer and he had an opener that really caught my fancy. They're called Elizabeth and the Catapult. I really liked the jazzy voice of Elizabeth and its pairing with the rockabilly band. This is their one existing official video but my favorite off the album is this Leonard Cohen cover.

Imogen Heap's new album Ellipse is constantly blowing me away (thanks Brett). This is one of my favorites

Muse's new album The Resistance came out today too. I've yet to procure it but I'm pretty excited to do so.

The Knife has been rocking my world pretty consistently lately too. Another pass along from Brett. They're rather fabulous.

BOOKS

On the literary front I've been stuck somewhere between Dr. Seuss and coloring books. I keep thinking I should read something a bit more elevated and stuff but then I think "Why? Adolescent lit is the best of both worlds. Its amazing story telling with quality multi-dimensional characters but without all of the depression, lameness and lasciviousness that is in modern "high lit". So lately read all 3 of the Howl's Moving Castle books (totally awesome and very different from the movie. Read it and love it for it's unique wonder) and have moved on to the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series (equally but differently awesome). I'm still deciding if I'm a daughter of Zeus or Athena... Anywho - they're super fun quick reads that I totally recommend. Rick Riordan writes like your reading your best friend's blog. I kind of love him and the premise for the whole series. I'm off to Barns and Noble right now to finish reading the third one now that I'm thinking about it.

Long live the arts and God bless YouTube!

Lizzie out

Delusional Clarity

2009-09-11T13:38:00.000-07:00

So its been an embarrassing long time between posts. A lot and a little has happened like it always has and does.

I've been to Utah, and Kansas since my last post. Both trips were lovely. One was for a ridiculous job interview which I seem to have a silly amount of, and one was to visit the bff and play with her adorable 3 year old and bask in the calm green nothing that is Kansas for a season.

I will blog about that later too because I have far more shiny and sparkly matters on the mind.

SHOPPING!

I have done none because I'm a thrifty responsible type and I really don't need anything but for some reason my untapped and unused nesting instincts came out in the form of some serious Internet window shopping this week.

It's all Sky Mall's fault. I blame Sky Mall. That's where it started...

I finally picked up a magazine and thumbed through it when I was on my way to Kansas. I've been flying on my own since I was 10 years old. It just took me 20 years to pick up one of those and man - those things are AMAZING! I found SO much stuff that I never knew existed that I don't understand how I've lived without. Yeah some of the stuff is laughable-

Indoor Doggie restrooms = ridiculous

Pans that ruin perfectly good brownies = atrocity

But a voice activated interactive R2D2s??!

and Old Timey awesome globe bars that you can substitute for candy dispensers and feel like you're in a Dickens novel??

How I have lived without these?! I mean seriously? So when I got home from Kansas I started combing through the website and found myself bookmarking a # of things. So I have a wish list file in my Shopping bookmark. Who doesn't? Well - I started tabbing so many of them my manic organized self kicked in and I started making subfolders, like What room in some imaginary house would this go in? And I made a file for that room -

Well then things just started to snowball. Apparently I've had all these mental lists going for while because I found myself at all these dangerously tempting sites making more bookmarks and apparently there is some imaginary house out there that I'm already decorating. Who am I?

Throw rugs and lemon zesters and couch tables and food dehydrators and movie posters and on and on and on. So essentially I've set up my Internet house from crown molding to steam floor cleaners. All within a matter of a day.

But that's not the funny part or the point really. THIS is the funny part point.

I've never really been the THINGS girl you know? I shop at Marshall's and the farmers market and periodically the mall when there's a sale. I'm not a brand name girl. I drive an economically sensible compact sedan and have a Target purse and I'm happy. I don't really even wear jewelry. I don't base value on stuff. I appreciate beauty and whether its in the form of a coast line, a Tiffany lamp, a shot by Kobe Bryant, a kid playing in water or Jimmy Choo heals I love it and value it all the same.

So during this imaginary splurge of mine I just went to the sites and place that I've made subliminal metal notes of what I want. I wasn't looking at brands or prices, I just knew what I liked and recognized it when I saw it and I've learned something about myself during this little imaginary shopping without price tags jaunt.

I have ridiculously expensive tastes. I have no idea where it came from because I've grown up so modest but there it is. Its a really good thing that I'm not a things girl or else I'd be really broke or need to marry a ridiculously wealthy man and only the deepest love will persuade me into matrimony. :)

Like I was perusing the William Sonoma website and just looking at cookware. I know, because of growing up with Julia that copper pots or copper bottom pots are the most functional and give you the best control over the temperature of what you're cooking so I find a set that I like.

Only to find that its Mauviel - apparently the leading cookware maker in the world that also happens to be French AND it has a 4 figure price tag. I'm not even going to say. Its too ridiculous.

I was looking at china patterns I like at Bed, Bath and Beyond not paying attention to price or name, just pictures and fell in love with these

Only to find out that they're Wedgewood.

Good grief - what is it with me. I should have known when I was 7 and in my friend's house in Utah and saw a magazine with different engagement rings out. I didn't know anything besides He Man and ProWing shoes but I saw this engagement ring, fell in love with it and haven't found a ring I like better yet. I've seen a few close runner ups but when I was older and went back to find it again it was still around, I still recognized it and guess who makes it? Yup - Tiffany.

I'm ridiculous. I know. Its a really good thing that I don't fixate on this stuff huh? I'm breezy, and love the dollar store as much as I love Nordies and am a natural bargain hunter. It all balances right? Right.

And there is always Overstock.com....

How I Feel about 'Merkah

2009-08-18T12:33:00.000-07:00

So I was asked, for this job that I'm applying for to "write a one page essay about how I feel about America". Apparently its for this private school that has an "America-centric curriculum" and I guess they wanted to make sure that I'm not a dirty hippy.

Mom said that I should post my reply on my blog.

Here it is:

Life is a series of binaries, melodies and countermelodies of every kind. The governing one in a life is the space we try to live balancing our dreams and our realities. Both sides have claim on our mind, hearts and energies so we find ourselves in this space between, living in this benevolent, delicious and adventurous polarity.

This is what America is to me. It’s a crossroads of ideals, brilliance, energy and love mixed with a lot of blood, sweat, tears, pain, and hard work. There is a magic to this place. It’s an accessible magic ironically being the basic concept of space. There is space here. There is the obvious physical space but there is also emotional space, there is political space, there is intellectual space, there is spiritual space and there is enough for everyone.

The word I use for this is Liberty. We have a statue of it, a bell, the word peppers every founding document but I often wonder if it’s worth is really known. Many have sacrificed comfort, safety, families and even lives for it. It’s that costly because it’s that important and its what makes America truly great. Not Freedom, but Liberty. I think the two are very different.

Freedom, to me, is simply the state of being free from oppression from a malevolent source but Liberty is far more pointed and ennobled than that. Liberty is the chance to choose, to live a deliberate life, to have ownership over yourself and your future and in a beautiful dichotomy, those that were so ardently concerned about their welfare were motivated by true philanthropy. They loved themselves enough to fight for their rights in founding a new nation but they had a greater commitment to those that would come later and felt they deserved the same chance. That is a rare gift and one I marvel at everyday.

Because of this working reality of Liberty and Love I have hope everyday. I can feasibly hope and imagine changing whatever there is about my life and situation that I want to. I live and breathe the possible. There are few places where that is possible but here, it’s an everyday.

These everydays and the subsequent space they provide has led to everything else that I adore about America. We are an amalgamation of people from every corner of the planet that grew up one way but hungered for another. They were and are people with an instinct for justice, of brave souls. In turn we have grown up sons and daughters of heroes. We are a whole nation of fighters. Its no wonder the comic book was invented here, the car, the aircraft, the Internet. We’re all still exploring our world and trying to be the heroes of our own lives.

Naturally with so much strength we are constantly fighting for ourselves and sometimes with ourselves, but when called upon we boast some of the most courageous blood in the world and when we work together, nothing is impossible. The line between dreams and realities disappears. We’ve proven that to the world and ourselves again and again.

There is always a chance. There is always a way and most importantly there was someone who came before me that loved a faceless stranger enough to provide a way for me to find my own.

Some Additional Thoughts

2009-08-16T11:08:00.000-07:00

So after having a few conversations with beloveds I think that I need to write a bit of a follow up blog to Pinching Things.

Firstly, like my darling Alfi in Impromptu so boldly declared, “ART DOES NOT APOLOGIZE”. So I shant. Those feelings are and were real. I don’t deny any of it, however, and this is a problem with blogs I think, that was just a snap shot of a bad day and quite a lesser portion of my entire emotional landscape. A painting is far more than the shading on noses and postures of patrons. It’s a whole composition and so am I.

I think, in background to that piece, I want to clarify that I am a very empathetic. I take on the emotional make up of people around me. Most times I don’t find the talent very convenient but I tune in to people very quickly and on very primal levels. It makes me a good friend, a resource at church dances and quite fun to chat with in large crowds, however, sharing a very small apartment with a wonderful and totally well intentioned, but emotional and hormonal new mother can sometimes make volcanoes out of steam burns.

Two, I feel compelled to declare how truly amazing my sister in law is. I felt like I kind of painted her on the insensitive/condescending side. That is not the case. I adore her. I am a very different person from her but we’ve come from two totally different worlds that share a similar vernacular so why wouldn’t we be different people. Those two weeks were so intense it seriously felt like I was on the mission with a missionary companion again. Spending 24/7 with someone is quite a task, especially in a demi-crisis.

Three, I want to just say that I’m sure her father is a good man too. I’ve met him on a few occasions and he didn’t come across as any kind of tyrant or abusive type. We all say careless things sometimes, careless hurtful things. I know I have and I’m lucky enough to have constructive and loving people around me to gently nudge me in a more positive direction. Some people don’t. Some people make reckless mistakes parenting. I’m fairly sure I will and my kids will have to grow and mature in spite of me sometimes instead of aided by me. Parenting is a messy scary thing, of which, truthfully, I only have a loose academic understanding.

I have my ideals too that I’m married to on the matter, along with other things that I use to bludgeon others and myself. I know this is unfair and I recognize it even when I’m in the thoroughs of whatever huff and puff I’m about at the moment. But what’s interesting to me is that even though I recognize it, my irrational commitment to those ideals trumps whatever prudence or caution I should apply to the matter.

Do you remember that MormonAd with a school hallway full of people with brown paper bags on their heads with different identities written on them like “Nerd”, “Cheerleader”, “Looser” etc and the caption said “Labels Hide People”. I think ideals function a bit in the same way. However, I still think they’re necessary for living a principled life.

I suppose like everything else it’s a matter of balance and charitable looks at things on a case by case basis.

However, I’m quite imperfect and my empathetic nature, compiled with my marriage to my ideals all complicated and multiplied by my justice seeking self sometimes gives way to emotional tirades about things I can’t control.

Also, I want to say, being able to relax here in this cozy tearoom in SLC and feeling quite myself and absent from any hormonal swings, that I do NOT think men are mindless size 2 loving simpletons. Men and their dispositions are as varied as women’s and are attracted to a number of things, like women, and have their preferences, just like women. Accusing half of the species of something and denying them anything but animalistic credit because it doesn’t fit MY ideas of how things should be/are (read: how I am) is quite silly and flat out unfair. I should apologize for that and I do. I’m not a shallow female who wants some millionaire football player and not all men are cheerleader chasers. Speaking in absolutes is dangerous and its easy to hurt people doing so. That is not and never was my end.

Working out being blindsided by grief and frustration was. That’s all.

I love you guys. ALL you guys. I really really do.

Utah and the Wallet

2009-08-11T06:36:00.001-07:00

So - on the morning of July 15th I come traipsing home from my Harry Potter 6 midnight viewing endeavors only to discover that my sister in law had delivered my nephew 6 weeks early under less than ideal circumstances.

The following days I prepare to head up to Salt Lake City to go help my SIL and my brother in the aftermath and also visit and fall in love with my nephew. I get my oil changed. I get some new tires. I clean out and wash my car. I get my registration renewal and 2010 tags. I pick up some healthy eats from Fresh and Easy and some not so healthy ones from Target. I pick up Jonathan's requested Trader Joe's guacamole and some Cali avocados. I take my time packing (and even reference a few YouTube videos on Japanese folding techniques), I get a blessing from my dad, go pull $200 out of the bank and set out. I don't like using my debit card at random and unknown gas stations, especially in the middle of nowhere. There are meth addictions and credit-card number recording devices in the strangest of places so I had planned on doing the whole trip on cash. It's just easier that way, for me anyway.

I have a LOVELY drive up to Utah. I was singing along to Missy Higgins and Matt Nathanson most of the way and drinking in the phenomenal scenery. I think I've concluded that central Utah is one of the most beautiful places on the planet. The drive to Vegas is heinous but it pretties up really well once you get past it. It had been YEARS since I'd made that drive. The last 7 times I've been to Utah I've flown.

It was getting late and it was time for my last gas up of the day so I pull of the trusty 15 to this brightly lit Chevron station. I'm thinking I'm somewhere in Cedar City because that's what the latest sign told me but in reality I was in Beaver, UT. Cultural icon of the world, Beaver.

As I pull in a smiley, scrubbed face 14 year old in a Chevron shirt approaches me and says
"You've come a long way, wash your windows?"

I was a bit confused because I wasn't aware I had stepped into an episode of Leave it to Beaver so I check my surroundings to make sure I'm still in color and not black and white and reply a bit confused and surprised
"Sure. Thank you"

So then this cheery chap starts making conversation as I'm getting out cash to go prepay for gas and he corrects me
"Oh - you gas up first here and then pay"

I again, look around to make sure I haven't sprouted a waist cincher and matte lipstick and say
"What?"

and he replies as hes making himself busy
"That's how us small town folk roll around here. I know it doesn't make too much sense to you city types but it works for us."

I thank him, and start to pump my gas. I have to admit that this kind of disappointed me because I was very much in the having-to-pee way and was looking forward to going in, peeing, prepaying, pumping, getting change and going. I had sequenced that 20 minutes before I pulled off the freeway.

So now I was pumping (while doing the pee dance and making conversation with Beaver), getting my purse as I went in (like a good city girl should Rule #3 of Lady Urban Survival: Never let your purse out of your sight or if you do make sure it's not in anyone else's) and paid (whist still doing the pee dance), ran my cute self to the rest room and ceased the pee dance, washed up proper, walked out to my car, and finished the rest of the trek to SLC.

I met Jonathan at the hospital sometime around quarter to 1 in the morning. He parked my car while I did another mad bathroom dash and we had our reunions and the debrief, key exchange and directions to the new house orientation in the hospital lobby. April was sleeping up in the room and we didn't want to wake her. We made breakfast plans for the morning (as in what I was to bring) and I headed to the apartment to crash.

I got there without any issues and took all my stuff up in one trip, found the air mattress and crashed and burned.

I got myself up and ready the next morning and as I was looking through my purse I noticed the key feature if it wasn't there. My planner was, my Clorox wipes were, my bandaids and sewing kit and hand sanitizer and lotion and pocket knife and tums and aloe and tea bags and camera and make up and iPod and sunblock were all there but no wallet. Panic took me for about 5 seconds but I took a deep breath and

Thus started the 5 Stages of Grief

Stage 1 Denial: I couldn't believe it was gone. It had just fallen out of my purse. It must have been in the room, or in the car, or in the trunk. There was a huge shuffle the night before. So I start retracing my steps. I go back in the room. No wallet. I go down to my car. No wallet. I go through my trunk. No wallet.

I had just meticulously cleaned out my car and packed with Japanese precision so if something was out of place it would have been very obvious.
No Wallet.

At this point I was running late and Jonathan and April were going to be hungry so I called Jonathan and let him know the situation and he had the same reaction I did. "It must be somewhere". He had only lost his wallet a few days before and it turned up in the Hospital gift shop of all places so he had been through the scramble panic and it had come out all right within a few hours. He told me to just come to the hospital and we'll figure it out.

So I did. I drove without my license to the hospital and all my problems totally faded once I got to see April and that ADORABLE BABY! None of my problems ever mattered when I was at the hospital. It was kind of nice. The whole trip, whatever was pressing on me, it faded to naught when I saw that little baby. Nothing was more important than warming milk or doing whatever April needed to be done. It's amazing how that works.

So Jonathan looks through my car and luggage to see if he can find it. He compliments me on my state of things but finds no wallet. I revisit the car almost every day of my trip hoping I had missed something. I hadn't it wasn't there.

So I spend all of Sunday going back and thinking.
"It either fell out of my purse at the gas station when I gassed up or fell out when I was taking things inside the apartment. I combed the whole area between my bro's apt and my car and found nothing. So my conclusion was that since it wasn't there, if I had dropped it in the complex someone must have picked it up and since it was Sunday and the management office wasn't open they couldn't turn it in so I'd have to wait till Monday to interface with anyone.

So I decided to sit tight and try to not panic, or feel trapped or worry. I think I failed miserably at all 3 because when I talked to mom and dad that night with a hospital update it was messy.

The next day I call the Chevron I thought I was at (in Cedar City) and they have no clue about a lost wallet and I call the management office of the apartment complex to see if anyone had turned anything in. Nothing.

I called both places around 3x on Monday and nothing, thus entering Stage 2 of Grieving

Anger: I blamed Utah I hate Utah. It's Utah's fault all of this has happened. If Jonathan had lived ANYWHERE ELSE things would be so much easier but oooohhhhhhh nooooooooo. No nononononono. He lives in wonky, weird, silly Utah that KNOWS I don't like it there so to welcome me it eats my wallet and laughs heartily.

I was frustrated about so many things two principle ones being
1-My temple recommend was in there and I really wanted to spend some time in the temple while I was in Utah
2- I don't exactly have a large chuck of change sitting in the bank, $200 is a LOT of cash to lose for me

In addition to not having access to my money and my CDL and Drivers license possibly being out on display somewhere.

I kind of skip Stage 3: Bargaining and go straight to Stage 4: Depression
On Monday I was a barely contained mess. April came home on Sunday night and Monday was her first day back so I was trying to be as out of the way and helpful as possible but Jonathan saw me barely keeping it together and asked if I wanted a blessing and I burst into tears and said yes. He gave me an amazing blessing of comfort and love and peace. I was just what I needed. There are no words for how much I love my brother and how I love what a true Man of God he is. I don't know where I'd be without him.

On to Stage 5: Acceptance

So for the rest of the trip I just try to cope. I have a tiny bit of cash in my account and Jonathan and I have the same bank so I transfer it to his account and he withdraws it for me. I go get a new physical wallet. I call my bishop and he cancels the bar code on my temple recommend and sets up an apt for an interview for a new one when I get back. *Sniff* This is the first time since I've been endowed that I have been sans recommend and I DID NOT like it. I have no desire to ever be in that situation again. There is just a bit of psychological resting I take with that little piece of paper and knowing I'm worthy to enter the House of the Lord. I got to walk through the Oquirrh Mountain Temple during the open house while I was up there but it wasn't the same. I need my temple time but apparently I had other responsibilities while I was up there.

There isn't much you can do/replace without a license and its impossible to do so from another state and I was needed there. I couldn't just skip home. I just had to deal, and I did.

My Dad was a super star on the homefront too. I had to call my bank and not only get a new card but change bank account #s because I had checks in the wallet too so they sent all my new cards and bank account info to the house and dad had been keeping a vigilant eye on my mail and when the bank info arrived he overnighted them to me so by the end of the trip I had a temp AAA card (I never go more than 10 miles without that), my bank cards, and some cash.

My family, in all of their amazing was totally there for me too. Jonathan and April generously just gave me a chunk of change. Dad called me the morning I left and had deposited money in my account and even my Grandma and Grandpa from Ohio had called Jonathan, told him they wanted to give me some cash for the trip home, sent him a check for him to cash and he essentially shook my hand when I left with another chunk of change and said "this is from Grandma and Grandpa" and told me the whole love-filled exchange.

I was teary eyed and amazed at the support and love. I make the silly mistake of emotionally isolating myself sometimes but its an impossibility to stay there with a family like mine. They pull me off the ledge time and time again. I know I gush frequently about my family but I just can't help it. They truly are THAT wonderful. As you can see.

So I drive home and have a few compatriots for the journey, and it all ends up costing a fraction of what I thought it would. We pass by the SAME Chevron station and we stop and I ask again, if there has been a wallet turned in. The rather dim but sweet girl working the desk says no and I go on about my day, drive home, and am more than ready to start piecing things back together.

I get my temple recommend on Sunday and have a DMV apt 3 days after I get home to get a duplicate license. That proves to be a ridiculous conundrum. I get there all nice and early with iPod and book in hand and it turns out there was a traffic ticket that I hadn't completely handled and it had escalated to a Failure to Appear or FTA which put a hold on any further DMV business. So I went home, told Dad, he made an appearance for me in court and sorted out all that because he is a fantastic Daddy and a very capable lawyer. They tell him it will take 24 hours for the FTA to electronically drop off the record but the court charged him and gave him an abstract/affidavit for me to give the DMV for them to complete the transaction. I go BACK to the DMV that day (like hours after he got out of court), stand in line again, get to the window again and they say that they still can't do anything and that they don't accept the voucher the court gave. Its a great thing the court knows that/told us that and charged us huh? I go slightly mad. I did not make friends with any employees at the Rancho DMV that day or their supervisors I insisted on speaking with. It was kind of bad. But I resolve to come back the next day (sans appointment which means more line standing than normal) and am determined to sort it out.

So the next morning I get there, I check in again, I pull out my book again, I'm amazed at the number of children people bring to the DMV again, and I get to the window and the FTA is STILL on there. I react more like a lady this time around and instead of calling my Dad I just march down to the courthouse. They told me it would be 24 hours, they lied and I was going to tell someone they did. This whole situation had evoked the DivaLiz and you DO NOT lie to DivaLiz. Period. So I stand in line at the court house, clear everything up with them after some firm conversations, head BACK to the DMV (take 3) and I FINALLY get a duplicate but only in paper form.... which doesn't help me AT ALL recuperating anything else in my wallet.

So I go home at complete loss with bureaucracy and kind of exhausted. I conclude my lesson in all this is patience, flexibility and endurance. I go to sleep praying for all 3 and the next day I get a call.

"Hello - this is AAA. We have someone on the other line from a Chevron in Beaver Utah. He's claiming he has your wallet. May we connect you?"

"uuum - what? Really? Beaver?"

"May we connect you?"

"Yes yes - of course"

At this point I'm thinking that this can't be real. This doesn't' happen in this world. After 3 weeks of being off the grid it turns out my wallet had been picked up by a Chevron employee, given to the manager, and he had locked it up in his office (not in the front lost and found) and was waiting for a call. He finally decided to call on it and I asked him to mail it to me. It arrived on Monday and everything was still there. My license, my social security card, my Disneyland pass, everything. There was even some loose change that fell out. Ever last penny, receipt, and ounce of my lost security was returned to me by a simple gas station manager in a small town that employs a 14 year old to wash windows and is keeping a tiny bubble of honest Christian America alive and well.

Its nothing short of a miracle and I don't exactly feel deserving of it but I suppose my DMV penitence was enough for the powers that be.

I'm still trying to figure out a way to thank the owner and manager of that Chevron and his employees, because it would have only taken one to royally mess up my life for a long long time. I promptly apologized to Utah for all the mean things I said and thought and promised myself to pay it forward. This kind of goodness needs to be shared.

So that's it. that's the story of me, Utah, and the Wallet. Goodness still exists in the world and it DOES manage to find you when you're needing it the most and expecting it the least.

The End

Wednesday Giggles

2009-08-05T16:24:00.001-07:00

A snap shot of our policy making skills and why I want to punch California in the face today.

However, this is still giving me belly laughs... LOVE

The Pinching Things

2009-07-28T21:17:00.000-07:00

So I'm kind of sad tonight.

You query "How on earth can you possibly be sad when you get to spend the bulk of your day with a brand new baby? A miracle in the workings even?"

The truth is that I am a very selfish person. Amid all this lovely I'm kind of weepy and ready to cash in my chips on this civilization thing and just walk away, find some nice banana stand somewhere in an area with no cell phones and just pass my days there.

Why you say? Well I have never been more aware of how single I am than I have these last 2 weeks.

One, because I'm staying with a nauseatingly married couple, two, because they just had a baby and three, I'm in Utah; Land of the happy couple, litters of adorable children and enough pheromones to choke a rhino at 20 paces.

Its one thing to deal with every kind of couple possible holding hands and being cute in every car around you at every stop light. Even tragic looking couples have managed to find each other and be having a better day than me.

Then to deal with staying with a fairly newly married couple and hearing "oh you'll find your eternal companion soon" and "Oh I was *just* like that right before I met my husband" almost all the time.

Then to see that adorable baby and all those families being so happy everywhere - man. Its enough to shatter a single girl's pieced together and tattered self worth.

THEN tonight on the way home from the hospital the conversation turned to some fatherly conversations my SIL has had with her dad and how he literally took her aside after she packed on some pounds after being married and pretty much told her that "men like slim women. Men will not be interested in you, married or not, if you're not slim and you husband will step out on you if you're not." and had said such things to her her whole life.

This made me angry for a few reasons.
1 - A FATHER said this to his DAUGHTER. The one female in the world that he shouldn't judge at all and just support. He is responsible for instilling an unimpeachable self confidence in her. That's his JOB. Paternal FAIL!

2- How much more objectified can a woman become? Like men can/don't/won't fall in love with any other part of a woman than her measurements?

and 3 - because hes right. That's how men think, that's how they are and that's how they work and despite all the ranting and disappointed women in the world they haven't changed and they won't. And you know what that means? I don't have anyone to hold hands with at a stoplight and probably never will at this point.

I've been throwing this idea around with a few friends and just dealing with this ugly fact that people are actually really shallow and quite mean. Like even the people that love us. I feel horribly judged by people that I'm close to, that I respect. They don't ever dare tell me as much but their censure is as palpable as rain. They think loudly and I know them too well.

You know, I really wonder if gay members of the Church feel the same way as women over 25 who aren't a size 2 in Mormon world. I had a rather heart wrenching discussion with a few amazing gals about the Prop 8 tar pit of misery and how we live in this Romantic church. Its a man and a woman. Together forever. If you deviate from that then you are outside The Plan apparently. There is no room for you. You get consolation happiness and a fisher price chair for the concert. Yay you.

I think that tonight, where I am, that I am going to assert that single women over 25 and not a size 2 in the church are kind of in ranks with every gay member of the church. We are an Other, someone outside the norm to be considered and sighed about and tisked over and given sideways half hearted assurances from walking paper dolls that "it will all work out".

I've struggled all of my life with the Other factor. It just seems to be my lot despite my longing for cogency. Even now, among my amazing friends I still feel like the other, to token chubby one to make them look better and prove that they're not shallow. I don't doubt that my friends love me either and that a good portion of that label is self inflicted but that doesn't make it any less of a struggle for me.

I realize that all this comes kind of close to my birthday and truth be told, its never much of a happy time for me and pretty much every corner of my life is arrested at the moment. Its hard not to feel a bit useless.

And at the same time simply saying so seems so ungrateful because I have such a caring family and so many good things to be grateful for.

And on the whole I am OK. I'm great even, but tonight I'm exhausted and alone and I just need to cry.

The Auntie Chronicles

2009-07-23T21:57:00.000-07:00

Part 1

So I'm an aunt.

Charles is here in case you've missed any and all Facebook status or panicked text messages or emails or all 3.

April went into the ER on the 14th and had an emergency c-section and Charles came 6 weeks early. :)

So now I'm here in the rather beautiful Salt Lake valley doing my best to be of some help to April and Jonathan and I figured that I should be sending out some updates seeing how I have a bit more time and lower stress levels than they do. Also, I'm amazingly funny and miracles like this should be shared.

I rolled in late Saturday night July 18th to Salt Lake and found Jonathan awake for his 36th hour in a row. They have this bench of a couch available for fathers in the rooms but between the nurses on rounds and such he wasn't really sleeping at all.

I saw April and Charles for the first time on Sunday and both looked pretty beat up. However Charles' oxygen was better than April's believe it or not. April went into the ER on Tues night the 14th with horrific pains in her side. It turns out that she was in some of the final stages of pre-eclampsia. Essentially her body was recognizing the baby as a threat and was attacking it. This results in a ridiculous spike of blood pressure (April was in stroke ranges when they were prepping her for c-section), and her liver was shutting down being saturated with red blood cells (that was the pain in her side). Luckily they got her into surgery in plenty of time for Charles to be born unscathed and she got to start recovery.

Charles was at 34 weeks and has been a trooper from the start. He didn't breathe initially and turned a slight shade of periwinkle, I'm told, and they were about to intibate the poor thing but they gave him one puff of oxygen before doing it and not only did he start to breathe but he saw the nurses coming at him with a tube and literally screamed at them. We knew he was going to be OK around then. Since then he has steadily gained weight. He weighed in at 1570 g (that's about 3lbs 6 oz) today. If he keeps gaining at this rate he'll be 4lbs in another week. He is oxygenated and sucking like a pro and charming the nurses and all of his IVs are out. Hes totally on solid food and awake and a generally happy baby. He smiles all the time. He seems like a normal newborn really. The only thing that keeps reminding me that hes a preemie are his kleenex size diapers and how he curls up when he sleeps. You can see how they tuck him in pretty tight and let him feel wrapped up like hes still in the womb.

I am pretty much a novice at this whole preemie baby and NICU thing so its been a fantastic learning experience for me, as cliche as that sounds. The NICU is a fascinating place. April and I go in the mornings for the 8 am feeding and then she and Jonathan go back at night for the 8 pm feeding. The Gardner Women's Center is a great facility and security wise, tight as a drum. There are 3 secured doors with call buttons we have to go through to get into the NICU and even then we have to sign in and there are cameras everywhere. There are sick-os who steal babies and that makes me a bit sad, but it makes me more comfortable having Charles there.

There is a huge scrub station/sink type apparatus when you first walk in and all jewelry has to be removed and you have to literally scrub in like a surgeon before you get to go anywhere in the NICU. My nails have never been cleaner. There are 4 parts to the NICU; A, B, C, D. D is the high risk unit or where the really new ones are and as they get older and healthier they move up the alphabet. Charles was moved from D to B this evening. He turned a week old yesterday.

What I'm doing here is pretty boring aside of getting to go to the hospital. I'm essentially April's chauffeur/assistant. A lot of basic things are still a struggle for her. Like fastening seat belts and being on her feet more than 15 minutes so I'm keeping the laundry to a minimum and the dishes done and the pumping equipment sterilized. Thankfully April is producing enough to keep Charles off of formula but its an endeavor. There's lots of boiling and labeling and refrigerating. Let me tell ya, I'm sure you ALL know this through life experience but having a kid changes EVERYTHING.

Having me here has let Jonathan go back to work which is a very good thing seeing how LANDesk is starting the blitz portion of a new software roll-out and Jonathan needs to be there for that. I'm glad I could be here to facilitate something of this adventure.

Thats about it for now. We've got an early morning tomorrow so I better get off but here are some pics. More are sure to follow. I'll do my best to not to be the nauseating aunt with tons of lizard baby pics. But c-section babies tend to be a beautiful (no squishing and mashing) and - well - he's a Long. How can he not be a lady killer? Seriously...

The Post

2009-07-20T19:17:00.000-07:00

Dear Sweet Charles,

Welcome to this crazy place we call Earth. You're perfect and adorable and I promise to do everything I can to keep you that way for as long as possible. You're only 5 days old but I can tell you're a Long through and through. You have dark dramatic eyebrows, are the Alpha Male of the NICU, have charmed all the nurses, eat like a Viking preemie, don't over fuss at all, and can recognize and love your mommy and daddy like none else.

Loving you more than life,
Auntie E

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Obnoxious State of Utah,

I am always leery coming here. I get stir crazy after a few days but your amazing scenery and super low gas prices keep me interested. Coming here was a bit of a necessity with all the recent medical fireworks resulting in a new person but did you have to require the sacrifice of my wallet to see my nephew?! I mean really, I'm pretty dang broke as it is being unemployed and such. Now you have to complicate my life with keeping me here sans drivers license, cash, temple recommend or social security card??? Really - really. Is this kind of harassment necessary? I don't think so. I'd really like to call a truce with you you know. Its exhausting thinking so poorly of some place like I do of you but you're hardly giving me reason to do otherwise. If it wasn't for the people that I love living here I'd sharpe you RIGHT off my map!

not your friend,
~Ms. Long

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear T-Mobile,

I'm leaving you as soon as I see an opening. You've let me down once too often and at the least opportune times. Your phones are not cool, current, or functional most of the time. You still use SIM cards in a PSP world. Why don't we just use two flags and a flashlight for Pete's sake??! You're fired, that's just the long and short of it and do both of us a favor and do not use me as a reference.

barely keeping my middle finger to myself,
~ Ms. Long (but you can call me Ms. Thang)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Big Sur,

I am hopelessly and irrevocably in love with you. I know that this comes and a rather inopportune time seeing how our reckless state legislature can't manage to find their ass with two hands and a floodlight much less budget enough money to make sure that the State Parks stay open for the world to know the joy that is you. I'm embarrassed and shocked on their behalf because the world should see and sing your beauty. I will never be the same after seeing you, smelling you, feeling the sunshine that only you seem to be able to produce. Life is simpler in your company and I feel more alive. You will never be rid of me. I will be back as often as my cattywampus life allows me to be.

Yours ever after,
Liz

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Bad Dreams,

You're a new addition to the three ring circus that I've come to refer to as "my life". I don't know if you're a derivative of the surprisingly violent anime my brother said I "had" to watch but I don't enjoy watching and hearing my friend's necks crack, break, and watching them die. I'm sure my friend Brett would not enjoy the experience either so lets just have a parting of ways right now. I haven't seen someone die in a dream and Brett would never go gallivanting around on construction equipment and let himself be mangled by said equipment. Either way just please see yourself out. I have quite enough to worry about and I don't want to wake up screaming ever again.

waving goodbye,
~e

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Michael Jackson,

Where to begin...

I am so so so sorry that your life had the finish it did. You are better than that and you left behind some adorable children that truly love you. It's just not OK. It's true you had a tragic life and operated in a paradigm that was pretty far removed from the rest of us. No one really understood you much, including yourself I think. I really enjoyed the music you gave me though. Its the soundtrack for a good portion of my life and I remember being honestly inspired by "Man in the Mirror" and honestly horrified by "Thriller". I still can't watch it without flinching. You did some truly amazing things and were a one of a kind. I'm sorry it ended the way it did.

respectfully,
~e

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Elizabeth,

Will you PLEASE get married soon to someone who has a modicum of stamina and virility. I'm dying of boredom over here and you don't exactly age backwards. Get to work woman!

Impatiently,
Your uterus

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Wallet,

I miss you. Please come back to me soon.

still weepy,
~e

Wednesday Giggles

2009-07-08T18:43:00.000-07:00

Happy 4th and God Bless 'Merica

Wednesday Giggles

2009-06-18T15:16:00.000-07:00

Oh those nutty Japanese people and their performance artists that come on their insane game shows.

Thanks for making me laugh like a loon. Like. A. Loon.

Net Neutrality, an Endangered Concept

2009-06-17T21:34:00.000-07:00

So every issue is an important issue right?

Social issues -
Political issues -
Emotional issues -

They're all important but I think there are few that need our attention more right now than Net Neutrality.

I try not to get too political on here but this has been on my mind a lot lately and I feel like I should do what I can to spread awareness and to try to help.

I think this video is a very good jumping off point about the issues

and just to let you know - there is legislation being voted on really soon about it and you can go to https://secure.freepress.net/site/Advocacy?cmd=display&page=UserAction&id=327 to let your congressman know you support it.

Mom Moments

2009-06-06T17:43:00.001-07:00

So I was cleaning out the fridge today and it was an archeologist's jaunt through mom's culinary pleasures over the last couple of months.

The strangest thing I found was an El Pollo Loco bag containing a bottle of soy sauce that has spilled and had covered 3 completely full spice jars of cumin, curry powder, and onion powder. In the fridge. The expiration date on the soy sauce was Feb.

This is my life.

I'm Still Contemplating Reporting Them

2009-06-04T10:30:00.000-07:00

Craigslist is officially the job searching equivalent of MySpace.
Ridiculous, narcissistic, entirely false and full of questionable characters that probably smell weird.

I responded to an ad for an "Account Manager" position asking for some more information. The ad was pretty vague.

This is what I got in response:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Good Afternoon

We have received your e-mail and want to offer you the vacancy of "Account Manager".

An account manager makes 7% from the amount of each transaction. You will be granted 24/7 support and back up from our company in case of emergency throughout the business hours. A secure online environment makes the work of an account manager agent easier. Normally the amounts that we process vary from $3,000 to $10,000, but can go higher on special occasions.

Working Tasks?

1) To receive money to your bank account .

2) Withdraw funds.

3) Send money via Western Union or Money Gram

Also we sent our contract, for the further cooperation. Please fill it and send to us a copy, to prove your identity. Also it is necessary to send acknowledgement, that you are ready to work by e-mail. After receiving your email we process and answer as soon as possible.

To get job more details go to this website : solutiononline.co.cr

Best Regards

Denis Iovov

Finance Corporation International

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They haven't met met, I don't know a thing about the job even after this amazingly thorough job offer and I'm so eager to take a job with someone who can't punctuate or spell or use proper grammar in emails OR offers...

*sob-sigh*

It's a horrible scam and it makes me angry. What kind of cruel son of a bitch would take advantage of people legitimately looking for work? I starred at the screen for a good 30 seconds when I read it in disbelief. How did such ridiculousness find its way to my inbox?

This is why I'm kind of sucking at life right now and why I'm in dire need of a punching bag. Looking for work is a soul draining endeavor.

I'm moving to Alaska and changing my name to Genevieve. I can't take it anymore.

One of These Things Is Not Like the Other

2009-06-03T15:36:00.000-07:00

So I'm friends with The Getty on Facebook.

Go ahead - judge me. I use Facebook for more than silly quizzes and stalking boys that will never give me the time of day. So hate me.

But I got wind that this past Tuesday they were having a free lecture that I was interested in. Former NEA chairman Bill Ivey and prolific cultural critic and Harvard professor Lewis Hyde were going to have a conversation about the "roll of the Artist in Society" and "Our Cultural Bill of Rights". As a supporter of the Arts and an amateur musician and writer I felt a bit vested in the issue and it was free so why not?

Plus it had been awhile since I'd taken in the Getty Center and its not like I'm doing anything useful right? I might as well join in The Conversation - even for a bit.

Well, I brought along a few comrades. One is my Artist friend Eowyn. Yes, that's her name and she is as Elvy, magical and wistful as it sounds. Shes one of the few real artists I know. Like a painting, attending art center, dresses like a genius, always thinking about something profound, passionate, soft spoken, shy of people, loves animals, brilliantly well spoken individual. I adore her. She's all but my little sister, we've grown up together. Her sister is a few years older than me and has a PhD from Notre Dame in Medieval Studies and is a professor at BYU. Yeah - if you ever want to feel like a slacker, stand close to this insanely gifted family.

I try to spend as much time around her as I can because she is so remarkable and she teaches me things about things I thought I knew, like a real artist should. So she, and the super adventurer/rock star Lauren came too. I was the least accomplished of the group and the least likely to get hit on as well (they're both gorgeous) so I figured it was a day fit for sitting back and just being enriched.

We took in the gardens and impressionism and the photography exhibits they had there and finally got kicked out of the Decorative Arts building when it closed in a bundle of giggles at the sarcastic carvings on some of the French pieces. Giggling in the museum is the best.

We soaked up as much sun as we could in the garden and moseyed our way over to the lecture hall and I couldn't help but notice how pointedly we were by everyone lounging outside the lecture hall. Everyone was huddled over their obligatory cup of coffee and attired in the abounding scarfs and chunky glasses. One of the things I love about events like this is the kind of draw there is and observing the mix of people. I was just taking in the scene and glancing casually around but as I did I noticed that, like I said before, the looks I got back were not casual at all. I found this strange, and like I always do, attributed them to my girth and how fat people in LA are a rarely seen breed. I always get looks like I'm an alien. I'm used to it.

It wasn't till after the lecture, which was not what I was expecting but nevertheless poignant, and during the question and answer session, that I realized why. Everyone that was asking questions were reporters or people from the California Arts Council or former members of the NEA (National Endowment for the Arts) or all of these heavyweights that turned up. Even the head of the Getty and PBS were there. I had NO idea, none whatsoever, that this was going to be a networking bureaucrats haven.

Lauren, Eowyn and I were probably the youngest people there. I would have desperately hoped that in a city like LA, BRIMMING with musicians and thespians and artists that the lecture hall would have been packed. I'm not nearly talented enough to be the indie kind of musician that I listen to, but if I was a working performer I would keep my ear to the ground about stuff like this. These kind of conversations change thinking and any time in a room with minds like that of those two gentleman is always worth taking.

On the shuttle ride home I sat next to two older ladies in artsy ponchos and lots of big jewelry talking about the lecture and name dropping and saying where they used to work etc and they, making conversation asked me where I was from and how I heard about the event and I said "......." and I quote "I'm just a student and I got a message on Facebook....."

No grace, no decorum, not even enough of a sense of humor to make fun of them by bluffing something and making up a French name and random university I was doing sociological research for. They didn't even know who the guys were that were speaking sadly, I was more informed as to the nature of the discussion. That's how I initially entered the conversation, I was being a know-it-all, like usual. I found it kind of funny that they went to this lecture and didn't even know who the guys were or why they were important. They were there for the elbow greasing. That's so foreign to me.

So yeah - walking back to the car I was feeling a bit strange. Sheepish more like and I heard piano music and saw a white feather drift by. Had I known so many decision makers were going to be around I would have been shamelessly handing out my resume.

But alas, like most of the big things that have ever happened in my life, I don't realize the gravity of the matter till I'm past it.

Oh well - it was a very interesting lecture, when I wasn't battling the exhaustion of walking around the Getty all day and I got reminded again how it really feels to be in a world but not of it.

If you see me sporting obtuse scarfs, name dropping sideways over some overpriced beverage, and being somewhere to be seen instead of being involved, you have full clearance to slap me.

I felt so enriched by the end of the day my head hurt so I grabbed some $1 cookies at McDonalds and settled down with my blanket and Netflix for some kung fu cartoons and, while keeping everything I learned,shook off the pretension of the day.

Wednesday Giggles

2009-06-01T16:47:00.000-07:00

retroactively speaking

This is what has made me laugh the hardest this week so I'm posting it as last week's installment.

Buster is my favorite and always will be. The first time I saw this tiny little quip I laughed so hard I had to pause it and it never ceases to kill me.

The Grumps

2009-06-01T15:28:00.001-07:00

I've got a pretty bad case of them right now and I don't know why.

I've been trying to figure it out as well as the people around me I regularly have to deal with. Mom did her best by so artfully and discreetly asked me full voice in Target the other day "Are you going to menstruate soon?" The answer was no. These are legitimate grumps.

I don't like being grouchy so I've been trying to shake it off and nothing is working. My first move is almost always hanging out with friends but they've just ended up annoying me more. Next move was Disneyland. That almost always does the trick but the day ended up being a barely contained bitch-fit on my part. Movies typically trigger some endorphins but all I've been getting are bad dreams.

I had one the other night where I was in my old house in Pasadena and my brother tried to kill me so I had to flee but we were living in this apocalyptic warfare state and I couldn't get to Kansas to safely be with my best friend. We got mugged along the way and my computer got stolen and I was convulsively crying and rocking over my empty laptop case in my dream when I popped awake thinking note to self - do not watch Matrix movies AND Terminator movies in the same week. Too may post apocalyptic scenes in the noggin.

I think that the stress of looking for a job, interviewing for a job and just being unemployed is weighting on me so much that its exhausting all of my other energy that is typically put towards stuff like Patience. So as a result things that typically don't bug me are really getting to me.

Like the broken water temperature lever in the shower, typically I just deal but I almost put my hand through the shower doors the other day. Getting violent? Over the temperature of water? Who am I?

Maybe the NBA Finals has upped my aggression towards the world in general. This is why I backed off of water polo. I'm not a naturally competitive person so the only way I could rise to the water polo occasion was to get aggressive in the angry kind of way and it started to leak into every aspect of my life and I didn't like it.

I can be a very severe, critical, impatient and over baring person if left to my own means. You know how when a yard goes unchecked and tended that it gets all overgrown and brown and snarly? I become a raging demanding diva if I go unchecked. I don't like being like that at all. No one likes dealing with someone like that so I decided to change. However, dealing with this latest trial has left a lot of things go unchecked and I'm not quite sure to get a handle on them.

Like, I almost fired a friend the other day because we were on the phone and he was venting about this class hes taking with this scattered teacher that I had had before. He said he was venting to another person as well who had taken the class that I might know and then he started to attempt to describe her to me. She apparently was tall and bigger built much like myself and he didn't know how to describe girls to girls because unless they're anorexic they get super sensitive about anything you might say but I'm not too hard on the eyes because hes still talking to me right?

.........

I literally pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at it like "what on earth...."

I had no response but an overwhelming desire to bring the conversation to a close and possibly erase his number when I was done.

Maybe I need a day at the Huntington. Sadly, a few hours with a punching bag sounds much more relaxing at this moment. Who am I?

I kind of want to go find a dude ranch in the middle of Montana and take a job as a cook and leave all of the stupidity of YSA life and urban living and post-grad pressures to the birds. The older I get the less I care about all of it. All I want is a dog and a garden and a nearby mountain to hike. The rat race is NOT WORTH IT! Its pointless insatiable agony for agony's sake. I can deal with hardship if I know *why*. War time is agony but you're defending your family and country. Childbirth is agony but its for your kids. This totally doesn't count for anything.

My birthday is coming up too and that's never a relaxing time for me.

I'm broke and I have all these places I want to go and people I need to see, like my very pregnant sister in law that is moving this weekend and needs help putting a nursery together and guess who can't come to Salt Lake to help? That's right. Me.

I haven't seen my best friend in a year. That is difficult.

Everything is just difficult

And feeling sorry for myself doesn't help or change a bloody thing. I know.

Things aren't all bad. I have a lot to be grateful for.

- despite the fact that I annoy them or they annoy me, I have an amazing family and group of people who love me and who I desperately love
- I'm healthy (relatively) and disease free. Getting cancer or something could put a damper on things I realize
- The Lakers are in the NBA finals
- my nails are growing in nicely
- my laptop didn't get stolen, it was just a dream
- I've got a safe and warm place to sleep
- There are no machines after me trying to kill me. Not yet at least
- I have an education
- I have a car

I have a lot to be grateful for. I'm just doing my best to shake grumps. Wish me luck.

Virtuous, or I'll Never Cheapen Her...

2009-05-23T05:17:00.000-07:00

So when you wake up to your mother making ear splitting chocking and gagging sounds and 3:45 in the morning and you run into her room an adrenaline worried mess and it turns out she just has super heart burn because she downed some Taco Bell nachos way too late at night but you thought she was chocking to death and you're still so adrenaline ridden hour later you hands are still shaking and you're wide awake there is only one thing to do.

Blog.

And blog about calming things.

Like sacrament talks that are over so you have 20/20 retrospect on the matter. I know I said I was going to blog about this earlier but, well, the week got away from me.

So for the 3 of my 6 readers that weren't there (and you 3 that were, I love you to bits - thank you) here is the gist of my thoughts.

My assignment was Elane Dalton's talk, A Return to Virtue, from the Nov '08 Ensign.

D&C 121:45 is also our ward theme this year, so Bro. Forester (my bishopric member that gave the assignment) let me know with a certain amount of gravitas, well as much as his jovial self could muster, that this was something they really wanted covered.

I took the assignment and was grateful for the chance to speak, but I kind of giggled to myself for a few reasons.

1) The Church erroneously uses the term "virtue" interchangeably with "chastity" so that essentially meant that the bishopric was passing off the quarterly sex talk to me and I found that funny.

2) I am the super open hippie's kid. We grew up talking pretty openly and candidly about sex and it's roll and implications. This is also a stark contrast to Mormon Cultural norms which, when it comes to sex takes on the "don't ask, don't tell, don't do anything for that matter till you're married. Then - have at it"

I have always found this puritanical approach to chastity less effective. In fact, I think it does a lot more harm than good.

These were my thoughts that I shared in my talk in no significant order

1) Our sexuality isn't something to be afraid off and packaged up and left alone till the fairy tale of Marriage comes along and somehow provides all answers and questions. It's this monster under the bed that we just have to learn to live with and work around. The culture has made it scary and dirty and something that can destroy us if we let it.

I refute that. I think when *doctrinally* examined that we will find a different case. *Fornication* or the abuse of our sexual powers is a huge, nasty, and vile thing. This eschewment has trended toward vilifying that fact that we have sexual tendencies, sexual identities.

I submit that our sexual capacities are some of the most beautiful parts of our person, of our eternal identities. There isn't a state we enter in in mortality that is more god-like than those moments, where we become creators and selflessly exist for someone else.

The crowning ordinances of the temple are all support columns and sacred hedgerows that protect and sanctify our sexual identities. I think that the sanctity and level of reverence we have for the temple should be proportional to the things that the temple protects, which is the family, the physical and emotional connection of a man and a woman. Think about it for a second, like really equate those two and let the Spirit teach you something and help you throw away toxic cultural norms.

I think because it's so close to who we really are and plays so directly into our eternal identities that it comes under the heaviest of fire from the Adversary and its manipulated, trivialized and reduced to selfish recreation and entertainment. OR, and this is just as destructive in my opinion, if the Adversary can't get someone to forsake the covenant the swing the pendulum as far as they can the other way.

They shut off that part of their person. They ignore it. They become afraid of it (like I said before) and buy into the concept that once a wedding ring is on your finger the world changes; you can see fairys and rainbows and galloping unicorns. Marriage isn't the tunnel from LA to Toon Town (start at 2:20). You're not all of a sudden aware and comfortable with every element of your body. I don't know how many people I know that once they got married and tried to consummate it, failed for months because they had to get used to this whole new side of themselves. They had spent their lifetime up to that point stuffing themselves into a proverbial box instead of getting to know themselves and how to *control* themselves.

Head in the ground thinking like that isn't obedience. Obedience is a very deliberate, informed, and pointed state of being. That, my friends, is ignorance. And yes someone completely disconnected from their sexuality isn't sinning but they're not a whole person. They're not learning control and respect. They're not humbling those powers at all. They're not progressing. You tell me which would be a bigger offence to The Plan and our Father in Heaven and what makes a bigger mockery of the Atonement. I know what I'd say.

Now I am by no means encouraging anyone to break the law of chastity as a way of "getting to know yourself". That's not what I mean. Don't go getting ready to go fly your freak flag.

What I'm saying is that I see our sexuality as any other appetite. It needs to be acknowledged, learned about, and controlled. I see it as the difference between anorexia and proper nutrition. Learning to recognize who we are and embracing it, loving it, and respecting it enough to keep it in its proper time and place is a lot harder than just cutting loose or straight jacketing ourselves, sticking our heads in the ground and waiting for Marriage D-Day. It just doesn't work like that.

It's very possible to talk about something all the time and reverence it. We do it with the temple all the time. Why can't we give sex the same respect? I think it would be nothing but beneficial. But like I said, that's just me.

And honestly, "virtue" doesn't exclusively mean sexual purity. Its from the Latin virtus which means strength. It means to be strong. Now, given, our sexual purity and how well we keep the law of chastity is a pretty definitive litmus test for where our moral strength is, how converted we are to the testimonies we have, but it is not just about sex.

It's about being a whole person, about being a spiritual Olympian, about taking not just sexually compromising situations or temptations, but ANY kind of morally compromising situation and being strong enough to make a decision our Heavenly Father would want us to and dealing with the consequences.

And now I'm finally getting tired so I'll leave off there.

Please discuss, question me, do whatever, just start thinking and talking in some form or another. That's all I ask, that's all I want.

That and my mom not to wake me up at 4 am in a panic attack.

A pox on the Taco Bell - a pox on you. It's grade E meat anyway. The the lowest grade they can use and still legally call it meat. Just. Don't. Do. It.

Blah

goodnight/morning

Open Letter

2009-05-21T16:34:00.000-07:00

Dear Real World,

I am seriously thinking we might have to break up soon. You keep throwing these impossible insane people and situations at me and I'm not sure how much more my bleeding heart and thin skin can take.

Like this latest employment episode, was this some elaborate fraternity prank? That's the only way I can explain how truly terrible it was.

Firstly, I should have known something was up when the dude was so eager to hire me. I mean, I know I'm brilliant and cute and smell really good so any straight thinking 35 year old male would be sold. But this wasn't a date, it was a *job*.

Secondly, I should have known that the hellish 19 mile commute that took over an hour and a half EVERY day both ways should have been a deal breaker.

Applying for a simple secretary position and finding myself with not only one but two desks of work to do for not only one but two companies should have also been a warning sign. All this for two companies who happen to be totally unrelated to each other and have two totally different needs. One of many being a capable and trained accountant that boss-man just assumed "because I was smart" that I could just step into, despite my protests and admonitions of only having "light accounting" as in balancing my check book.

People go to school for years and study for years after that to be able to keep up a full set of auditable books, much less two of them. Oh - and the detailed and helpful instructions of "just go and do this" were invaluable in dealing with the waves of overwhelmed "wtf" and my helpless internal hysterical laughter.

So when boss-man comes back in all of 20 minutes demanding a pretty and accurate one page report of the "this" and I'm still starring blank eyed at the instruction manual and begin to ask a clarifying question and he oh so sensitively yells back "DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TWICE??" - um - yeah. That's not so conducive to my productivity.

Or having boss-man call almost every weekend asking me to come to do things as meager as send an email when he knows I'm 100s of miles away at Coachella and not exactly available to drive 4 hours to come into the office to send and email that isn't an emergency to someone that can't look at it till Monday anyway. A bit irrational you think?

I don't mean to be picky but also have a suggestion in the responsibility section of things. When someone hires someone else, lets try to make sure its not just to have someone to dump all of the problems they've left hanging or have managed to avoid/ignore.

Like say, when an individual has started a business that costs about 25K a month to keep up (not including payroll or anything else, just infrastructure support) and you're only billing customers about 17K a month, you're going to run into some problems running that kind of deficet. Look at the State of California and the US for that matter. AND that's assuming that everyone will pay their bills on time every month, which they don't. SO - putting off the bills you have to pay for months and months and making arrangements time and time again and not paying them and finally getting disconnection notices (which will cause a lot of customers to have a bad day) and putting the newbie on the phone with the only instruction being "fix it. Disconncetion is unacceptable" but because boss-man had totally abused any good will we might have had for leverage all I get is a bunch of people yelling at me, $10,000 bills to pay, no money in the business account to pay it and boss man being as unnegociable an inflexible as the collectors are. Yeah - thats effective.

Oh - and having boss-man not letting me know the entire situation before I get on the phone with said upset and lied-to people was really considerate. Brave even. I was floored by the honor-bound way boss-man was running things. I found it inspirational even. Made me want to do everything better and faster, since rapidity seemed to be his core value. Things were expected to be done before he asked for them, even before he imagined they needed to be done. Last time I checked I was an employee, not an X-Men, and this is a three room, 3 person operation, not some Fortune 500 highrise in New York. Having expecations purportional to you resources is a pretty key part of success last time I checked. Boss-man hadn't gotten the memo yet.

Oh and Real World, letting people go around with all these expecations and frustrating senses of entitlement under the guise of "thats how things are in small bussiness" is ascenine. Its even worse when that's their answer to every question you have. That or "DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TWICE??!"

Being a small bussiness doesn't excuse you from simple values like honesty or decency. It doesn't suspend the concpet of keeping your word to your vendors or the people around you. It doesn't make things like bills go away. It doesn't give you the right to just plow your way, emotionally and logistically through life. As a matter of fact, it heightens your accountability. You have to run a bussiness as well as be a leader and be more responsible because if you have people working for you they don't have a logistical safety net. If you screw up they don't get paid. It's that simple. More caution is required, not less.

6 weeks of this almost did me in Real World, and I have to say, I'm one of your better assets. I'm addiction, STD, child-out-of-wedlock free, I'm literate, educated, in possession of responsible transportation, and make divine chocolate chip cookies. I think all that puts me in the top 5% of the population and few would disagree.

I think you need to start treating me with a bit more care. I'm not affraid of hard work or doing hard things but I am not a magician, a whipping boy, or a push over.

Please reconfigure your settings, I'll mend and dress my gapping wounds and we'll meet back up some time next week.

bewildered and bruised,
Lizzie

April is Possibly a Perfect Month

2009-05-10T14:33:00.000-07:00

General Conference
Coachella
Spring at the Huntington
Easter
Baseball Opening Day
The NBA Playoffs

and new starts in general.

I know that I've been a bit absent as of late. I've had a number of things going on so I'll try to cover them all with as much accuracy that my 3 tps of wit allows. April has been a rather amazing month.

I've glossed over my Coachella experience already.

* I started a job last month that kind of takes up A LOT of my time. More than it should. I have a lot to say about my job but the first rule of blogging is don't blog about work so I won't. Nevertheless, remind me when you see me for an update because - well - lets just say I feel like I'm in a REALLY bad comedy sometimes.

* Its finally starting to warm up and I find myself a bit sad. I kind of like crispy, clear-aired weather but I love sun too. I went to the Huntington the other Saturday, found a patch of welcoming grass in the rose garden (which is in full bloom right now) and just thawed. It was lovely. It was also kind of funny because my brother called me mid-grass stretch and we started talking about the playoff game the day before. There was a couple sitting on the bench a few feet from me. They weren't conversing at all, she was enraptured in the garden and he had that bored-to-the-point-of-pain look on his face. My brother and I were in a animated Kobe vs. LeBron conversation and I noticed him listening with pointed earnest from a far. I found it rather funny.

* Its the playoffs. The Lakers are in the Conference Semis right now and winning very well. Not at this exact moment, the Huston Rockets are dirty little mean players and have drawn blood more than once. I hope they're all in ace bandages and eye patches when we finally send them home. Grrrr

* I had a lovely random Thursday this last week. Random because I found myself in Hollywood at my favorite music joint with a Facebook friend. I wasn't sure how I knew him or met him, he was a CalPoly person so I thought maybe we had had a class together and I just didn't recognize him but apparently he just was searching for people with similar interests and found and befriended me. We've been in loose communication for a while and this The Rescues concert was coming up at the Hotel Cafe so we decided to go together. He had been kind of flirty online for a bit and then he changed his tone and started saying he felt like I was his "long lost Mormon Little Sister". How guarded can you get? I don't mean to be a brat, but between my real brothers and cousins I have as many male relations as I think I can handle. He had just broken up with someone so I get that space is kind of necessary. I think I'm wholly date worthy so getting this kind of pussyfooted emotional circumlocution not just from LDS guys but non too was a bit of an annoyance. I didn't want to miss out on the concert so I decided to go anyway.

Hanging out was weird enough, but he brought another "friend of his" that hes "sweet on" to the concert half way through. He told me he had wanted her to come but she didn't buy tickets or anything so I just thought we were going to hang out. But low and behold, I became a third wheel and the "little sister" to someone I barely know as well as with people that I've known forever. It was all just weird but I was determined not to have my night ruined. The people were cool enough and the music was AWESOME so I felt the night was a win, I don't think we're going to hang out again though. Not impressed. Not at all.

However, everyone that reads this blog needs to go check out The Rescues right now. They're phenomenal. I think I found my next album to be addicted to.

Sara Ramirez (Callie from Grey's Anatomy) was there and introduced the group and so was Mayor Villaraigosa. Yup - I met the mayor at a rock concert in Hollywood. Only in Los Angeles. He is a tiny little man and was quite drunk. When he shook my hand he grabbed my elbow with his other hand to steady himself. It was quite an experience. So yeah - if I were to sum up the night it would be "Awkward guys, garden burgers, transformative music and the Mayor".

* While watching the Laker game this last Monday I got a call from my bishopric member asking me to speak in two weeks and to speak on Elaine Dalton's talk from the Oct 08 Conference called "A Return to Virtue". He also pointed out that the theme for the ward this year is "Let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly" so essentially the bishop has passed off the quarterly chastity talk to me. I'm laughing like a loon to myself. How funny can it get. Asking the hippie's daughter to address Chastity? I CAN'T WAIT to have a podium to talk about. I'll probably be sorting out some of my thoughts on here and asking for feedback sometime this week so you've been warned.

*I went to the Ren Faire last weekend for the first time and it was magical. I ran into a few people I was hoping not to but what can you do? We saw an amazing joust and our knight was pretty hot. He was one of the good guys too. We didn't stay for the Death Match at the end of the day but I'm sure he won. He has a really friendly horse too. Wendy got us all garbed up and we were all proper maids, scallywags and belly dancers. We had the munchkins in cloaks and spend the day throwing axes and eating turkey legs and listening to hammered dulcimers and watching nobles parade about and play blinds man bluff and got flirted with and harangued by the royal guards. Just a typical day at the Faire. I loved it. And taking in the Faire with your former professor who is a medievalist and her chemical engineer husband, ridiculously brilliant children and old classmates/bosom friends is a rare and glorious thing.

It's been a pretty amazing month. I'll keep you posted better in the future. I promise. Once things start balancing out.

Wednesday Giggles

2009-05-04T19:25:00.000-07:00

I know I haven't posted in while but I've been lost to the land of New Job and Laker Playoffs.

However, I have stopped for long enough to come across this and hence have discovered new levels of weird the 60's managed to produce, new levels of Nerd-dom and new appreciation for the random that is the omnipotent YouTube

Sunday Wrap Up

2009-04-20T21:36:00.001-07:00

So walking into the last day of Coachella is like waking up on your last day of camp. You're sad. Really really sad and you're determined to have as much fun as possible.

We checked out at 10 and headed over to the site early. We had a long day planned

Super Mayer
No Age
Friendly Fires
Okkervil River
The Gaslight Anthem
Sebastian Tellier
Lupe Fiasco
Lykke Li
Peter Bjorn and John
Anthony and the Johnstons
Perry Farrel
Plump DJs
The Yeah Yeah Yeahs
The Horrors
Christopher Lawrence
Grove Armada and
THE CURE!!!

Once again we started the day off in the techno tent to amp up and because, well, that's naturally the first place Lauren and I gravitate to.

We saw 17 bands so I'll just give you the highlights.

Friendly Fires was much anticipated and for good reason. It was a 2:00 set and the whole tent was full on a 100 degree day. Why aren't they playing one of the bigger stages? I don't know. We were in the overflow but the happy energy got all the way to us in the back. Yay for cute sassy European boys with bands.

Lupe Fiasco provided some much needed hip hop representation and they delivered. See - this is the awesome thing about Coachella. You're in this giant field with 40K other people who love music, are just as hot as you, paid just as much money and well - you kind of stop caring about stuff, so if you hear music you like, no matter where you are or what you're doing, if you start dancing it's cool. If you just want to park it in the middle of a something you just pull up some grass. Everyone was just chill and fantastic and there was space to just be yourself. So while we were just kicking it on the soft polo grass with our shoes off grooving to Lupe there was this hilarious dude in front of us just dancing and dancing and it wasn't weird. I love it.

Lykki Li was amazing. What a show. That girl has so much freaking energy. What would we do without crazy Swedes? Seriously. She migrated over to the main stage to sing with Peter Bjorn and John for Young Folks (got that on video :D) too. It was a Swedish invasion.

Peter was chill and amazing.

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs are fun. Just plain fun. It's impossible not to have fun because they are having so much fun. They were on the main stage and they deserved it.

Christopher Lawrence and Grove Armada are juggernauts in the techno end of the world so we shook our groove thang for an hour or so and then frolicked over, a bit sadly for our last stop at Coachella for a whole year.

The Cure.

\There are not words for all the emotion that went into little old me sitting cross-legged behind a few thousand people listening to one of my favorite bands of all time. The Cure is one of those staples of my adolescence. They were this unassuming group that made all the difference to me. I will probably never see them again in my life time but this show was all I needed.

They were such a contrast to The Killers the night before. The Killers have this HUGE light and graphics show and its this whole visual experience as well as a musical one. Everyone is dressed in their rock version of tuxedos true to their Las Vegas roots. The Cure just took the stage. No fancy lights, no insane costumes, nothing like that. It was mesmerizing. Robert looked like he spent the night in a tree (as usual) and was in jeans and a hoodie comfortably taking in thousands of people with his guitar and the music. I've never experienced anything like it.

I cried as I walked out and swore that I'd be back and I will.

Totals:
# of Bands seen: 29
# of hours slept: 12
# of times getting pulled over by a cop for a broken tail light smelling like, well, Coachella: 1
# of tickets received: 0
# of Redbulls drank: 0
# of times contemplating a Redbull: 234
# of people I wished would put some more clothes on: 38,908
# of hot guys I didn't mind so much being disrobed: 4446
# of times I cried at the beauty of what I was hearing or the gravity of it all: 15
# of dreams come true: 4
# of funnel cakes consumed: 1
# of random friends I ran into: 1
# of times I thought that there are too many people in the world who weren't hugged enough as children: 289
# of babies with airport ear covers on: 2
# of porter potty/trailer hook ups secured: 1
# of times getting misted down in the Dolab: 3
# of times I dug my bare toes into the grass thinking this was heaven: 23
# of blackberries rescued: 1
# of hugs from strangers: 3
# of sundresses I wished I had the good sense to have worn: 1,287
# of times I fell in love with Brandon Flowers: 8
# of times I fell in love with music all over again: 23,833

Viva Coachella!
Who is in for 2010?

OK - Pics and Videos

2009-04-20T20:38:00.000-07:00

So pics first.

It was a gorgeous weekend. This is the check in tent. Bag check, ticket scan all that jazz. Typically these fields are lined up with people but luckily when we got there on Sat it was wide open. I forgot my camera in the car in my haste Friday night sadly so all I have is Sat and Sun. You'll get a good idea though.

Then right when you come in there is this huge dome with a mountain of amps and a DJ bumping some trance. It's like a portal to another world. There is a water refill station and merch and all that boring stuff in this proverbial foyer but then you go through another narrow gate and you see this.

We started dancing the second we walked in and didn't stop till we left essentially.

So besides all the stages they had all these amazing interactive modern art exhibits all over the site. I spent all weekend musing at them as much as the music. OK - well not quite so much.

And at night they all changed and took on a whole new life.

and they fired up the Tesla coil. :D

The tents at the back of the site were awesome. The techno lounge was always a buzz.

One act even brought out an alien to pepper the fiesta.

Twilight was the highlight of the day though

I have a ton more and videos galore. I took more video than pics I think. Upload is a long process and I don't have a lot of time anymore so we'll see what I get up. Maybe I'll make it a weekly thing. Coachella Pining Tuesdays or something.

Coachella (thus far)

2009-04-19T09:26:00.001-07:00

So I've been here two and a half days and Lauren and I have made our way through the crowds of 40K+ hippie and OC kids masking to be hippies with our prioritized color coded spreadsheet of set times and clean hair. It's been an other worldly experience.

I've taken copious amounts of pictures and videos that I'll get up here soon but here is a list of bands I've seen so far.

I worked Friday so I missed The Ting-Tings, Morrissey, Leonard Cohen, The Silver Sun Pickups, We Are Scientists, The Airborn Toxic Event, Conor Obrest, and Beruit. I like my job and boss (which I'll update on later) so I didn't mind working but I'm kind of super sad.

I was afraid I was going to miss Paul McCartney with the way parking was working. I fought traffic out of and during the 10 trek and THEN it was heinous all over when I got to the site. The fact that they *do* park the insane amount of people to do come is a slight miracle. Whoever puts this on should be an advisor for developing nations.

They put it on at the Indio Polo fields. There is the main stage which is HUGE. Like Huge. I've been to big stadium concerts but this beats them all. 2 jumbo trons, a light display you can see from space. It's a mobile World Wonder. Then there is the Outdoor Theater which is just off to the right that is still big but not tricked out like the Main Stage. Then there are 3 different massive tents down the line with normal sized stages and these canopies that must run 500' long and 100' wide and 100' tall. They feel like airport hangers. People can get out of the sun, pull up a piece of grass and just listen. It's magical. One is exclusively dedicated to techno so that's the non-stop party. And in between all of them are these amazing modern art displays and Tesla coils and these constructed grottos to get people out of the sun. THEN the place is surrounded with food vendors selling fair food and pretentious vegan curry and just about everything else under the sun. We had a funnel cake last night. I can't remember the last time I scored one of those. :D

On Friday, despite traffic and parking I did get there in time for The Presets, Paul McCartney and The Crystal Method.

The Presets were an AWESOME way to start my Coachella. They're like this new Aussie Depeche Mode cognate. People were spilling out of the tent but Lauren and I were in the thick of it and dancing our little cabooses off. I love them, they made the "CDs to buy list".

The Crystal Method were just as amazing in the the techno tent. Very different vibe than The Presets but fantastic nonetheless.

Paul however was as much of the legend as I was expecting. He had a long set, about 2 hours, and he was jammin and rocking like he was 20. I was totally amazed. I've sung with a Beatle. My life is getting close to complete. :D

Saturday was a full day. We didn't get to the site till 6 but I still left totally drained. We saw:
Zane Lowe
Calexico
TV on the Radio
Fleet Foxes
Thievery Corporation
Band of Horses
M.I.A.
The Chemical Brothers
and The Killers

Zane Lowe was a DJ in the techno tent. Must start and end the day with a party

We were ready to enjoy Glasvegas but they canceled so we meandered over to Calexico and they were fun. Kind of a chill, folky band with a Spanish lean. Neither of us really knew their stuff but we appreciated it while we were there.

Then we wandered over to the main stage for TV on the Radio. These guys are probably one of my favorite finds of 07. They've been around for a while but I just tapped into them two years ago. See - there was this one super hot guy that regularly came to a mutual friend's shows. Like jaw-dropping, loose your words kind of beautiful. AND not only was he a walking Greek god, he was brilliant too. He had a tattoo that was a quote from The Stranger on his perfect arm. Just stick a fork in me now. Anyways - this kind of beauty required MySpace stalking so that's what I did. Under his favorite TV programs he put "on the Radio". Hot. I know. So I looked up the band and was continually amazed by this specter or beauty's depth and taste. I haven't seen him since but he'll forever be embossed in my mind as this practically perfect man who led me to TV on the Radio.

I think the subtly of TV on the Radio is a bit lost on a big stage. I infinitely prefer them in smaller venues. I'm super happy they're getting this kind of recognition but I wasn't as into the set as I was expecting.

Fleet Foxes was next and they were celestial. Seriously celestial. Their music is quite the folk, baroque, rock hybrid and makes for amazing albums but I was wondering how well it would translate to a live gig. I was blown away. I cried through the first few songs for the sheer beauty of it. These guys are such an amazing talent its kind of scary. Their clarity is something that I don't think has been seen or heard since Simon and Garfunkel. The very loud bunch of Argentineans next to us almost ruined it but we moved and peace was restored to the universe.

We went over to Thievery Corporation while Band of Horses was setting up next and they were insanely cool. They're a DC band and reflect the multicultural aspects of the city. We caught one song about a pueblo and la voluntad de la gente. It kind of made me home/mission sick.

But we quickly made our way back to the outdoor stage for Band of Horses. They were charming and hilarious as usual. We caught the first half of their set and then jammed over to the main stag again for M.I.A

I was BLOWN AWAY (I've said that a lot, I know but this experience was one gust of awesome after another) by M.I.A. That girl had a baby a few months ago and 1) she looks great and 2) was jamming up there like it was something she did everyday. Which is probably true. Between the music and the colors the show had a distinct vibe. I felt like I was in a video game and I didn't mind. That girl is here to stay. She's totally money.

From there we booked it back to the techno tent. The Chemical Bros were playing. Now let me explain something about The Chemical Bros - my first introduction to techno in general was the movie Hackers. It remains one of my favorite movies but the Chemical Brothers did like half of that soundtrack. They're my entry point and therefore opus of the genre. This concert has been 15 years in the coming and I was EXHAUSTED before we even got there.

We were contemplating heading home before the Killers show because we had both gotten blaze reviews from friends of their shows but we just sat down for a few minutes and waited and ended up staying through the whole set and it was worth it. In my completely tuckered state they had me on my feet and dancing the whole hour and half and Brandon remains an example for LDS boys everywhere. He sings, dances, dresses well, is honest about himself and his faith, has his temple covenants AND is a rock star. It's possible people. Very possible.

Stay tuned -

We're going out with a bang today with the Cure.

Wednesday Giggles

2009-04-01T00:06:00.000-07:00

"It's 2am! Still time to make one more bad decision!"

That's kind of the story of my love life.