Glam Nation

 

The greatest thing happened. I got to see Adam Lambert. I can now die a happy woman.

A good friend of mine, and fellow Adam  stalker  enthusiast, found out he was practically playing in our backyard. We bought tickets, waited a few months and then experienced what it's like to be an official "Glambert." It was fantastic. This photo was taken by a friend of my friend. We weren't that close, but we may as well have been the venue was that intimate. I found the video on youtube taken by someone else at the same concert.

"Aftermath" was never my favorite song on the album, but when sung acoustically against the summer night it was beautiful; a really nice "love yourself first" message. One thing I've always admired about Adam is the confidence he feels in his own skin. We could learn something from his mentality.

A sometimes poem

Sometimes I wish I had more to write about.
Other times, I'm grateful for my boring, sedentary life.
Happy Friday.
If you need me, I'll be on my couch.

Photo a-go-go

I have a friend/coworker who has left her graphic design routes to follow her dream of photography. She opened her own studio and shoots photos of babies and families and weddings galore. Sounds like a fun way to spend a day or two or thirty each month.

She recently had a special where anyone who responded to her facebook post would get a free session and 20% off any prints. Since Neil and I never really got "professional" shots taken when we were engaged or getting married we thought, "what the heck, it's never too late." Although Neil's boss was a bit confused we'd have them done without an occasion. So the occasion is our successful three years of marriage. Go us!

We traveled to the Yuba River and met Kelly at Bridgeport where there's a rustic covered bridge crossing the river. It brings back memories of when my mom used to trek the family around in search of covered bridges. And now here I am, a grown woman, wooing over how cool a wooden bridge can be.

I've never been comfortable getting my photo taken and I think the anxiety on my face will be apparent in most of the shots. The close-ups are not my favorite, but I do like the shots in the bridge so far. We were given 3 sneak peeks and I'm told we can't see the best ones until we visit her studio on Saturday. But for now, this was our glimpse.

The shot with my head resting on my chin was in homage to the publisher of the magazine I work for. I take a monthly photo of her for each issue and most of the poses she holds look very similar to this one. Eesh. It has become a running joke in the office. At least it makes for a good laugh and a campy photo!

Let me rest in pieces

I'm typing this from my desktop computer *gasp!*

I know.

My apple laptop has been my tried and true for the last 6 years and it is becoming quite obvious that its years days are numbered. But I have no idea what I'll do when it's official. I can't bear the thought of losing it. Or forking out the dough for another.

6 years together and not a single trip to the Mac genius bar.

That's literally amazing.

Buying Macs are like buying Hondas: Reliable. Safe. Infinite.

But we all have an expiration date. And this one is looming.

Temporary gal

Well, I got a wild hair and decided that now was the perfect time to bring in a foster dog. An email went out from the basset hound rescue we support saying that an emaciated senior stray basset was in need of a home and some TLC. My heart was bleeding and I knew we should help. Neil's been behind the idea from the beginning so it was just a matter of the right time and the appropriate dog coming together. The stars and planets aligned on Friday and Saturday morning we found ourselves carting home another basset hound.

She didn't have a name so we are calling her Georgia. She's incredibly sweet and very slow. Although her brain seems to be sharp as a tack. I am currently waiting to hear back from my vet about letting the rescue pay for her medical bills (apparently they have to set up an account with HR first?) So until that happens I am just working on feeding her and keeping her comfortable.

She's had a few accidents in the house because I'm afraid she has the same issue Lola did when we first got her: She doesn't know how to ask. She uses doggy doors just fine, but unfortunately we don't have one of those. We're in the process of teaching her to ring the bell like Lola and Lucy do, and she has a few times, but it's not a consistent practice yet.

I'm pretty sure either she was an only dog or she's just old and arthritic because she doesn't seem to have much energy for playing. But she does love her squeaker toys. And sleeping. And eating. She's been a really easy girl to please. My only fear is that she may be older than everyone is estimating (9 years) and that she'll be hard to adopt out. I am fully aware that some fosters can be with you for months before being adopted ... but I'm afraid she may be with us longer than that. Fingers crossed that quiet, special home comes along.

Miss Georgia:

Hobby knobbing

I've been thinking about a hobby lately. I've tried several things, most of which I'm not good at: knitting, cooking, graphic design. I really want a fun way to spend some time and get something out of it in return.

I was sent a gift from a good friend in Hawaii. A small cookbook. I thought "hey, I could cook my way through this cookbook like in Julie & Julia." But then, considering the context of the cookbook, my waistline screamed in terror. I decided to show it mercy and forget the idea.



Then I remembered how much fun I had when testing and reviewing pet products for sacpaws.com. I was given several products from companies, both new and old, to try out with my animals. I think I had more fun with the process than my pets did. So I'm planning to start up a new blog once I think of a name (don't worry, I'll still update this one with details of my boring life) and begin the process of taking it public. I hope it works!

What I remember

Here's what I remember about this day, three years ago:

1. How I awoke that morning completely rested and noting what a good sign it was.

2. How nervous I was once the dress was on because I was afraid of falling on my face in front of everyone.

3. How I loved the way my hair was done.

4. How my mom and Aunt surprised us with a limo to take us to the site.

5. How the butterflies in my stomach fluttered when I heard he'd arrived and was waiting for me.

6. How I floated down the aisle.

7. How I don't remember anyone else being there but us, even though we were surrounded by our nearest and dearest.

8. How it was a beautifully muggy, summer southern morning.

9. The way he looked at me.

10. How his voice sounded as he promised me a lifetime.

11. How complete I felt 15 minutes later.

12. The kiss that sealed the deal.

13. How his hand felt in mine, entirely different from any time before.

14. The rings on our fingers.

15. How it was the best day of my life.

It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth

Neil and I spent 4 peaceful days up at the cabin near Mt. Shasta to celebrate the 4th of July and our anniversary. I love these vacations. Not a single television or internet connection to be found and our cell phones barely get reception. It really is heaven and a welcomed break from reality.

This year my parents were able to join us for two of those days. They brought along a good friend too, who really needed the distraction and safe time with friends family. It was incredibly serene. The lack of television encouraged interesting conversation over drinks, as well as early bed times. The mornings were spent in the sun on the back porch with coffee mugs in hand. It was hard to go home.

This was our view each morning:



This was our view each evening:



This was our view while saying goodnight to the mountain:



Such beauty reminds me of the good left in the world; of the presence of God. In a skeptical world, and even with my cynical mind, I can still take in an awesome view like this and know deep down that everything will be alright and that I am loved. I am loved more than I will ever know.

Mind-numbing drive

I realized a few things about myself today, during my mind-numbing commute home.

1) I see dead people. Well, not really. But I see weird-shaped containers/shady objects and instantly wonder if there's a body inside. For example, while driving in the fast lane I notice a strange bump in the blacktop of the center median emergency lane. It's a good sized bump with no grade to it, just flat road and then a long, round bump about the size of a speed bump. I instantly think "whoa, the road crew buried a body under the pavement." Another example, on one of our surface streets near the house the landscapers had finished the quarterly tree-pruning and black hefty bags lined the street for two weeks. I kept thinking about body parts rotting away inside. And another example, one evening while driving through a shopping center parking lot I see a man open a trunk and shove something inside. "Oh my God, he just put a body in the trunk." Neil says "no, I'm pretty sure there was already a person in there."

2) I twist my hair. A lot. It's almost incessant when I'm driving a car. Right hand on the steering wheel, left hand propped up on the side door twiddling a strip of hair. I was in heaven today after noticing the girl I was driving behind was doing exactly the same thing. We were soul sisters and my heart sank a little when I exited and she continued South. I'm always afraid a CHP officer will see my hand so close to my ear and pull me over for using a cell phone. That will be a fun one to dispute; "You see officer, I have this nervous tic that requires me to twist my hair in any number of fashions while driving ... here, let me demonstrate it for you." And today I was really enjoying my hair twiddling. It had the perfect consistency of oil to product and it felt nice between my fingers. It actually made the ride home seem shorter, which I welcome on a Friday. Yes, I am a complete weirdo.

3) I want a coat made out of my basset hound's ears. Who wouldn't? They're made of velvet, in the purest form.
[Insert Cruella laugh here.]

The neighbor's dogs

I'm not going to lie. I dislike my neighbor's dogs. Almost as much as I dislike my neighbor. This is the knot in the fence the two rottweilers use to sniff us out before wreaking havoc on our pleasant backyard experiences.



Oh ... aww ... hey there ... you butt head.



I dare you to leave that nose there longer. I will think of something to stick up it.



And this is why you won't catch us gardening during a weeknight in our backyard. This is the reason why my quiet, well-behaved dogs can't enjoy space in their own yard. Because after enough jumps and lunges at the fence, these rottweilers broke into our yard and went after Lola. Nothing has raised my blood pressure more than that moment and just the sight of these dogs now makes me sick.



But I know I shouldn't blame the dogs. I should blame our crappy neighbor, whose laziness and careless habits created these beasts that disturb our sleepy suburbia.

He's a terrible dog owner. I bet he's an even worse father.

Milk, meat and me ... forever

Our office vegan brought in bagels and non-dairy cream cheese today (derived of soy and tofu). I, not being one to let free food go unaccounted for, was the first one to help myself to the breakfast. As soon as I bit into my bagel, which of course had a healthy helping of the spread, the following conversation went down:

Me: [chewing] "Mmm, good."

Vegan: "That's what healthy tastes like."

Me: "How do you mean?"

Vegan: "Because it's non-dairy. You can't taste a difference can you?"

Me: "well no, but I don't have anything against dairy. My husband and I drink about 4 gallons of milk a week."

Vegan: "Milk is so bad for you."

Me: "Well, I like the calcium."

Vegan: "You should know milk actually leeches calcium from your bones."

Me: "So why do I have surplus calcium deposits growing on my scalp and the roof of my mouth?"

Vegan walks off. Obviously ignoring anything that goes against her wonky belief system.

..........................................................................................

But this woman doesn't stop at being vegan. She also tells whomever will listen that she makes major business decisions based on night visions God gives her, that aliens have to exist because there have been so many sightings, and also that President Obama and black people are going to ruin America. So you can instantly see the caliber of person I'm dealing with in my fight to defend meat and dairy. Any verbal effort on my part would fall on *deaf ears. You can't argue with crazy.

*Deaf refers to both closed-mindedness and incredibly old age.

I invented the post-it.

This weekend was a busy one and since it's a totally separate topic I felt details of Neil's 10-year High School reunion deserved an individual post.
My husband and I attended his 10-year reunion shortly after my great aunt's wake. It was an interesting change of gear. But we were able to meet up with some old friends (our two best men in our wedding) and carpool with them to the event. Which I was grateful for. I do better in groups of people I'm comfortable with and having my cozy security blanket of friends with me allowed me to relax.
The reunion was held in a huge room at the Coconut Grove on the Santa Cruz boardwalk. It was a beautiful sun room that allowed us to watch the sunset as the evening progressed. As much as I enjoyed that feature, the room was too big for the small attendance of people and we ended up paying way too much for a reunion that didn't give much back. We were promised drink tickets with the $75 a person price but once we got there learned it was a cash bar only. Lame. Luckily, we brought along a flask. Hopefully someone else will be planning the next one.
The people I met were really nice and it was good to finally be able to put a face to the names I've heard for the last 8 years. No one seemed too fat although I was told it's because I didn't know them in high school. One girl actually "grew up" to be a legit porn star. That's special. She sure liked to show it off too, although I felt some satisfaction upon seeing the cellulite on the back of her legs/glutes (yes, her skirt was that short.)
I think what surprised us the most was how few people had kids. We were certain we'd be in the minority since it seems parenthood is something everyone jumps into. But even after 10 years, there were only a small handful of couples with kids. One of Neil's friends with kids seemed really disappointed and missed her career. One more reason why I'm afraid to take that leap.
We called it a night early and had some coffee with our friends we carpooled with and another couple who have mutual friends with us in Sacramento. They were in their college band together in Fresno. The world is just too small sometimes.
It was a fun night, but when all is said and done ... 10 years doesn't make a big enough difference in people. Or so I'm told.

Ashes to ocean ... or not

We experienced yet another family adventure this weekend, rivaling those of the Griswold family. It all goes back to January, when my great aunt, Terry, passed away. Since then we've been cleaning out her things and waiting for a chance to get the whole family together to celebrate her life.

June 12th was the date finally set. The plan was to get the family together and since Terry was cremated we would gently spread her ashes in the Pacific Ocean. She lived in Pacific Grove/Monterey, practically on the beach; it was where she called home. After our "spreading" we had a lovely gathering planned with Terry's best friends and family in her favorite restaurant. All in all, the recipe for a beautiful day.



Which takes us to Saturday. The family gathered and enjoyed some lunch together before finding a discrete location for the "ceremony." It was a warm, sunny day in Pacific Grove which really brings the crowds down to the coastline. The leader of the expedition, one of Terry's friends, took us to a "deserted cove." Which was actually fairly busy.

Since ash spreading without a permit is illegal, we huddled together in a group so onlookers couldn't see what we were doing. The idea was to get the box of ashes open so each person could take a small amount in a cup and spread them over the water (and over the edge of the rocks where we were standing was a group of scuba divers.) This was getting better by the second.

My dad noticed the box of ashes was screwed shut. After finding a screwdriver he began work on the screws. Meanwhile I'm wondering why Terry was in this wooden box when she was originally placed in a metal one. Grandma said she couldn't remember transferring Terry to this box; she would have remembered unscrewing it open. But this is the box she brought down with her from Alameda (she's had possession of her sister's remains since she was cremated.)

Dad shook the box. No sound. He said "this feels really light to me."

Finally, he gets the box open and we see it's empty. On the back is a sticker with my grandfather's name, who passed away and was sent out to sea three years ago. It was his box. Grandma had brought the wrong one.

And we all said (mostly through tears of laughter) " ..... so .... where the heck is Terry?"



We all got a good laugh and my mom made plans to come back down next month with Grandma to help her spread the ashes then, on Terry's birthday. The rest of the afternoon was spent with a lovely group of people who all shared their fondest memories of Terry. She was quite a woman, and it was quite a wake. Even in death, she's still making us laugh. And we're still not sure where she is.

Debt Diet

It's no secret that I can't stand Oprah and the high horse she reigns supreme on. What makes Oprah even more annoying are her attempts to make herself financially comparable to her audience. I'm sorry Oprah, but it's been a long time since your paycheck-to-paycheck days.

However, she often has important guests on her show. Today kicked off her series called "The Debt Diet." Couldn't have been a more appropriate time to inspire me as Neil and I have been talking repeatedly about getting our bums into fiscal gear.

So I guess I'll be going over our finances tonight and laying it all on the line. Figuring out just how much we have left over to go toward debt and savings. It means we'll be continuing our search for additional work. It means we'll be spending even less than we already do. It means we'll be doing ok once some things are taken care of in a more efficient manner.

We have a little under 3 years to get it all under control and build a nice little nest egg. When my Implanon implant wears out (I'll be 30) we'll begin our journey into family expansion. Even 3 years away, the thought of it freaks me out as I know we'll never have enough money for that leap of faith. But we can always have more than we do now, and that's the ultimate goal. Debt free with a nest egg. And then the next big step in life.

15 going on 28

I've been feeling old lately. I'll be turning 28 this year and for some reason I don't feel like I should be. Mentally I feel so much younger, like I haven't accomplished enough in life to be 28. And I'm not referring to my career because I've never been a woman who dreamed of that success. Call me a traditionalist, but I've always wanted to be a stay-at-home wife; keeping my house as clean as possible, cooking good meals and possibly raising a small family. But these days it's harder and harder to do that, especially while living in California.

But now I get sore after sitting still for a long time and I am noticing my skin doesn't glow like it used to. I've been pretty good to my body. I've never been a big drinker and have avoided all illegal drugs like the plague. I eat well and try to get in exercise like I'm supposed to (although I've been lazy of late). So it's disappointing when I realize I'm having to invest in expensive lotions and products to slow the aging process. What have I done to deserve this? I have nothing to show for my wrinkles and sore body. I still feel 15 inside.

I know. I'm crazy.