Cuppa Jo

Winter in Northern California

2012-02-04T15:58:00.000-08:00

Today was another great run! We were in Santa Cruz today, sunny, bright, and dare I say?, warm. A stellar 70 degrees (F)! Ran/walked 12 miles again, this time with a friend, which helped on those occasions when I feel certain I would have slowed to a walk had she not been there to distract me with conversation and really just motivate me, and I took enough gels, of varying caffeinated levels, to keep energized. My average pace was every so slightly better, and Jen commented on my great cadence, and I was able to take a quick ice bath in the ocean this time which is soooo much more bearable than a tub full of icy water. My feet still hurt at around ten miles, just like last time, and I'm hoping that I might be able to improve my strength otherwise so that I won't have to complete a marathon with 16.2 miles of barking dogs.

Otherwise it's been an awesome day! I ran 12 miles, jumped around in the ocean, had a great vegan brunch all before 2pm. What did you do today? And tonight, the people auction (aka Bachelor/Bachelorette Fundraising Auction)! It'll be great!

Tomorrow will be my first ever attempt at rock climbing (a cross-training manuever), beginning with a belay lesson at Planet Granite. I'll try to do some core as well since Ilya says I'll probably overuse my upper body trying to climb the wall since I'm a beginner climber. So tomorrow will be an all around workout. And in two weeks maybe my feet won't hurt so much at the ten mile mark. Until then, please enjoy the view!

A view of the ocean at Natural Bridges before our 'ice bath'.

Better

2012-02-04T15:08:00.000-08:00

Today was much better. I was a little uncertain about seeing Ilya today at our weekend run, but it was okay. Jen came with me again and when Ilya saw me and came up and asked quietly if we were still on for tomorrow (rock climbing). And later Jen asked if he was dating, having noticed that we seemed to have a moment. And then the next eight miles was explaining the Marina/Ilya connection, minus the crush and my emotional regression to adolescence.

After the run, many of us runner went out to breakfast and Ilya sat down with my and Jen for a short time and in the few words he spoke on the subject I understood him to have gone on a few dates with Marina and that he really likes her. And I was genuinely happy for him. He mentioned that he hoped it worked out, which is quite early to hope, but I was still happy for him and only hoped that Marina wouldn't hurt him. Because I have a strong feeling that it would be something she might do or say that would strain the relationship.

I just hope I might continue to be genuinely happy for both of them and that we can all still be friends regardless of what may or may not happen. We'll see tonight at the people auction (Bachelor/Bachelorette Auction). Ilya is a bachelor. And Marina will be there. And so will I.

Crushed

2012-02-03T21:19:00.000-08:00

Let me first say that I'm a happy person. Oh yes, I have my ups and downs, but generally I'm happy. I don't usually think of death or how my life may suck or or why god has done anything to me. I have a certain amount of joy inside me, of love, of affection, of care. But as I said I have my ups and downs.

Let me also say that several years ago I had a kind of epiphany, or maybe many tiny epiphanies, like tiny big bangs, or maybe a big baby bang. I guess it would depend on how you look at it. Anyway, I realized a few years ago that it's not personal. This I think is the biggest bang I could have learned. Whatever happens it's not personal. When someone says something unkind to me, it's not about me, it's about that person. The same can be said for a kind word. It's not about me; it's about them. Of course, what I feel and say and do, that's about me. Get it? This also goes for god, or God. Really, God is not so concerned that he/she would do anything specifically to me. 'Why?' and 'what have I done to deserve this?' suggests that 'god' is taking a personal hand, and since Olympus is closed I don't believe that divine intervention is the cause of the good, the bad, and the seemingly unfair. I get it that when something doesn't go as I hope that it's not personal. Too many people involved, locked in their own minds and hearts, for the events of my life to be all about me.

So, Team in Training. Did I mention that TnT is organized in such a way that each area has a smaller nucleus. And then more nuclei within those. I think the smallest group is the four or five individuals who are assigned to a mentor. My mentor is Ilya. I had an instant attraction to Ilya. Not an intense one. Just an interest. Because he is kind and positive. Positive. That's what he is. He radiates positive energy and that's attractive. I became a little smitten with him, but aside from calling him for no other reason but to flirt and ask him out (not likely to happened as I'm quite shy, more shy I think than my friends realize or understand, quite introverted, and as such, intensely private), I rarely have reason to talk with him outside of training. But when I am able to talk with him, I try to show, in my shy, attentive way, that my smiles are more that just friendly acknowledgements.

Didn't work.

I have a friend, not my best friend, but a friend, and she's blessedly single. Last summer she was quite a different person. Perhaps a little too opinionated and unkind in her thoughts. But then she too had an epiphany. One that informed her that her opinion of everything didn't matter to anyone but her. And then we didn't speak for a long time. We were just busy is all. And when I saw her recently, after an hour or so of her talking, because she needed to vent, she asked about me and I didn't not want to share so I shared a little. I mentioned that training is going well. I mentioned that I liked someone. Unfortunately, I think my language was too vague, and being the shy, introverted, intensely private person that I am, I didn't elaborate.

Then last weekend I was at a fundraiser. I posted it on Facebook. And Marina showed up and I was pleased and I was pleased to introduce her to Ilya (both are Russian immigrants, incidentally both from Saint Petersburg) because she's my friend and he is someone I admire and I thought they would be happy to have a new friend. And then I remembered that they had a mutual friend, someone Marina introduced me to, someone who climbs and road bikes, like Marina and Ilya. And apparently they 'clicked'. And before my eyes and ears they made plans to meet for climbing and exchanged contact information. And later, after having gotten a message from Marina to call her, texted her, asking where she was that she wasn't picking up the phone, she sent me a photo of her and Ilya at dinner.

Last weekend after Marina and I said bye to Ilya, Marina immediately asked me what I thought about him, if he was date-able. The question caught me off guard, I wondered briefly why she didn't pick up on my shift in emotion, the slight hedging, but I tried not to show my upset and said that I didn't think he was married or dating anyone and that he had this positive energy, that he gave off positive energy, but I already felt the disappointment, perhaps even the heartache.

Which is stupid because it's crush and even if Ilya and Marina never met doesn't mean that there would ever have been anything between he and I more than my smiles and friendly manner. I was happy that they had hit if off, but unhappy that nothing happened for me. The unhappiness started to lift a little after a few days but only because I was busy and didn't dwell on it a great deal. And then on Thursday I got that photo on my phone.

Thursday had been a good day. A happy day. It was my last day on the unit for 6-18 months, or maybe ever, as I change positions to work on a special project. And I was relieved to not have to return to a unit that was making me tired and frustrated though I was sad to leave my colleagues. It was a last day after thirteen years in pediatrics and PICU and I felt like I had won the lottery and no longer had to worry about working, or perhaps that it was a start of a long vacation. I was happy and had many plans burbling in my brain.

And then the photo and I was crushed. I was slightly upset that I was upset by the fact that my school-girl crush was on a date with a friend because like I said, he may never have thought of me in a romantic way and even if he did that doesn't mean that he still wouldn't prefer Marina. And ever so briefly I wanted to ask 'why?' 'Why me?' 'Why again?' 'What have I done to deserve this?' And then I shook my head to get the idiocy out and cried some more because he likes her (even popped up on chat to thank me for introducing them) and he doesn't like me.

And now I'm just trying to get the fuck over it. It was nothing. It was a couple of months one-sided admiration with nothing more than pleasantries exchanged. I need to get over it so I may be genuine, and not stilted and unhappy, when I see them again on Sunday, for a group climb at Planet Granite, which I'm not as excited about as I was originally. Just a stupid crush. You'd think I'd be old enough to not have those anymore.

Learn and Run

2012-01-28T22:03:00.000-08:00

Today I ran another personal best. Twelve miles! And since I wasn't hungover I felt (mostly) great. There were a few hiccups, but learn and run, learn and run. Today started out similarly to the last coach-led run weekend, minus the hangover and all that that entails. I was still a little sleepy at 5 am, but I had had a good night's rest. Point to this weekend. Also, the oatmeal I had was quite yummy this time (another point), scraping the bowl clean. I recently got a new flavor of Nuun which is quite tasty (point) and was able to hydrate a little too, though I mostly did that yesterday. I'm having a little difficulty tolerating the Tri-berry flavor now since two weeks ago when I vomited it up after belatedly trying to hydrate after three beers (the big amber kind, not those puny see-through ones) and two, or maybe three, jager teas; it has to be pretty dilute and iced. Not just cold. Iced. Or that berry flavor is all kinds of ick. A shame too because it was quite tasty before then. I've also been icing and resting and massaging my legs over this past week, and especially again today when I got home, and after all my runs, so my shin felt fine (yay!), and my knee too since that had bothered me last time.

And today, much like last Sunday, I felt strong (point). I actually went twelve miles as measured by the TnT training coaches. I accidentally started my GPS on laps so had to restart my run after a quarter mile. Today we had a 7-mile turnaround and a 5-mile turnaround. At around mile 5, at one of the aid stations, I picked up a Power Bar gel packet. In total I had 3 bottles of electrolytes and 3 packets of food-shaped energy from home. The aid stations have more water/electrolytes and energy supplements which I like to try. After today I know that I need to take more, maybe one packet for every 2 miles, with me on possibly all my runs. I never actually ran out of energy supplements, the aid stations are helpful that way, but at mile 4 or 5, I picked up a tangerine flavored one that had '2x caffeine'. Didn't taste bad and I felt great. Made it all the way to mile 9, where I stopped to use the toilet, before my energy started to flag. At the 12 mile turnaround (meaning 2-1/2 miles left) I was decidedly tired. I began taking more, longer rest breaks and the gummis I had just weren't doing it for me. I made it though, all 12 miles, and I'm very pleased with me.

Later at brunch with some of my teammates, my mentor Ilya, told me that the caffeinated gels are best left for the return journey, take them too early in your run and you begin to crash. Oh, well. Learn and run.

But I did feel stronger before then. I kept checking my pace and it was faster. I think during Sunday's run I possibly slowed to an easy walk a few times during my rest breaks and that's possibly what helped slowed my time. Maybe. I'm not certain. Then on Tuesday I was talking with one of the walkers who taught me how to stride and move my arms that I might maintain a certain pace and still gain some rest. So today I did as she instructed and kept up a faster walking (resting) pace. My average pace today did improve by about 0.3 overall. That may be nothing to you but again, I'm very please with me.

Also today a few people asked if I ever ran with anyone. Except for the last time with Jen (point to the other weekend), I don't usually. I don't want to force myself to run at someone else's pace and I don't want to slow anyone down, so I just don't worry about keeping a partner. Maybe one day, but so far I'm not worried. I find it somewhat therapeutic to be alone with my thoughts. And, not that I don't like the conversation, I don't have to worry about talking and feeling breathless. Again, I do like the conversation, but quietness is something I'm used to from my years of shyness, though my unshy friends would scoff in disbelief that I would make such a claim. And now that I am not quite so shy, though I would never ever say I'm an extrovert, I actually enjoy the quiet. So I often run alone, but I'm not lonely.

I'm glad to say that I'm remembering some all the things that I'm learning and that they're helping me. Next weekend will be a 10 mile run at Natural Bridges. Hopefully the stellar winter weather of today will continue again that day though I really wouldn't mind if it rained until then. And hopefully I'll be able to soak in the ocean and won't have to buy a 9-pound bag of ice like today. (Today's ice bath was not quite so unbearable. Perhaps the hour or so I took to warm up and eat filling and nutritious food with my teammates helped to make the freezing water tolerable for a whole 30 minutes while watching a British comedy on my computer. And I ate more food while I sat there. And then again after my shower.)

This morning I was questioning my ability to run 26.2 miles. When I initially signed up back in November, I was more concerned about raising the minimum amount in donations. Though I not there yet, I'm not as worried about that. Friends and family and colleagues have both inspired and humbled me in their generosity and support. A friend of my parents donated money too and I don't even know him. Every time I see that 'donation notification' email I just well up with gratitude. No energetic thank you note or email could fully express how profoundly grateful I feel for their monetary support. Emotional support I feel through their interest and questions, but money is hard come by, for everyone, and so many people have been so generous. As I've said before (though not here), it warms the cockles of my heart. I have warm cockles.

As I was saying, I was uncertain this morning that I could complete a marathon, but now that I've learned a little more about hydrating and eating and energy and walking and everything else, that 26.2 miles seems almost attainable. This confidence wavered somewhat when my feet started to really ache and I thought longingly of having a pedicure but those aren't recommended unless you can ensure the pedicurist won't remove your calluses because apparently those help protect your feet to run these long distances. My toes look all snaggly. It's very sad. But an ice bath and three ibuprofen later, and three meals in close succession, and I'm back to thinking that I just might be able to do this.

Of course, I haven't done any of this alone, and for all the help I'm getting, I am profoundly grateful.

Thank you.

http://pages.teamintraining.org/sj/sanloobi12/runjosierun

Runner's World

2012-01-26T19:59:00.000-08:00

I think I might have a little addiction forming. This running thing is kinda neat.

Still, the challenge of actually running longer than a few minutes can be occasionally daunting. I've gotten used to 4:1 run/walk method and it's gotten to the point that when the rest period starts there's absolutely no thought that I might run a little longer. (Gone are the days when I would just push through it and run 30-40 minutes non-stop before resting ever so briefly.) At least not during the first 20-30 minutes. Around mile three my body starts feeling warmed up and loose and many times it feels easier after that to continue running, or considering my pace, jogging. Sometimes.

The past few Tuesdays at the track I just felt icky. I've yet to find that perfect balance of eating before working out and not feeling sick or weighed down. Or farty. Yes, farty. Seriously all day I'm fine, but get me around 20 or so people running in circles, as we're passing each other thank you, and I start sounding like my dad. TMI? Oh, well. Too late now.

Thursdays are supposed to be on-your-own or buddy runs. I have yet to make it to a buddy run as I can't in the morning before work and what kind of insane person wants to get up at 5:30 or earlier to run at 6am on your day off? Seriously, why would I do that on my day off? And 6pm is just as icky on Thursdays as it is on Tuesdays, minus the fartiness. My circadian rhythm really wants me to be relaxing at 6pm, most likely eating, and very possibly showered. Running at 6pm and eating after 8pm doesn't make me feel good. The thought actually makes me feel a little icky right now. One of the reasons I never make it to 'Hang with the Gang', though I did make this week and ate an astonishing amount of food, is the lateness of the hour. And next week I'll be getting up at 4am to start my work day so I'll be extra eager to get home to bed.

Saturdays (or Sundays) are very similar to Thursdays but I tend to feel more rested even if I happened to work that morning. Like last week.

Last Saturday I worked 8 hours after a restless night and decided I would be better off resting and hydrating, and doing my OYO run on Sunday after work. Sunday I felt much better and immediately after work, where I had hydrated all day with Nuun and ate half a bagel and cream cheese right before leaving the hospital, I got dressed and went for my run. Since I wanted to utilize the daylight I decided to run in the neighborhood, not really mapping out my route, just going where it looked safe. It was a good run. I felt strong throughout, keeping a steady pace and a perfect cadence. I felt awesome!

I thought for certain that I had improved my pace somewhat, even only slightly. So when I got home and uploaded my workout to the computer I was thoroughly put out to discover that my pace was exactly the same, EXACTLY THE SAME, to the hundredth!, that two decimal points people!, as on the previous Thursday, one of my worst runs, with heavy, leaden legs and a mind screaming for mercy. Exactly. The. Same. What's that about? It took me all the rest of the night and part of the next day to get over it and starting thinking about what I had done differently that made one evening run feel so great and one morning run so bloody awful.

I think it might have been the hydration, and possibly the bagel, and maybe the good night's sleep. I'll have to try replicating the my actions.

So addiction. Yeah. Awesome or bloody awful I still like this running thing. It's a sort of love/hate relationship. Especially considering the recurring shin splint thing and the inevitable, horrifying icing. I've been using a dixie cup with ice these past few days, but Saturday is a 12 mile run so I'm thinking screams are approaching fast. I've even bought some running magazines. I know! Right? Did you know that you can run several marathons every weekend all year long, all over the world? There's one on the Great Wall of China! That would be incredible!

Anyway, more after Saturday, this time without a hangover.

Change

2012-01-23T09:00:00.000-08:00

It can be good. It can be bad. Nobody really likes change, but it's necessary for the perpetuation of life.

So work. There's been some changes going on. I understand and possibly even accept the general necessity of these changes. I think most of my colleagues do. Unfortunately, the minutia of these changes has many of us a little baffled and the slightly unrelenting nature of these changes, as well as the general lack of grateful acknowledgement from the big bosses, and not just our immediate nurse manager who I believe is trying to make these changes as painless as possible, is wearisome.

I understand that the county is just trying to save money and isn't actually trying to piss anyone off or risk patient safety, but I still tired. I'm tired of the staff changes. I'm tired of being told what can be done better, that possibly we're not doing enough. I'm tired of my friends and colleagues being weighed down by worry that their jobs might be deleted or their shifts changed or perhaps that they'll have to go to some other unit where a full orientation will be needed as a few new coworkers must now do, from post-partum to pediatric ICU. Not anywhere near a lateral change and extremely perturbing for them.

As I've said to some friends who've asked. I'm tired of all the politics. I just want to take care of my patients. That's it. I just want to take care of sick kids.

Tired. Yes. That's what I am. But now I have this opportunity to change. VMC, the county hospital, has essentially dragged its metaphorical feet in adopting an electronic EMR, as per the federal mandate. We have only a couple of years left before all manner of federal and state funding, and possibly our license to be a hospital are revoked. Seriously. So finally we're moving forward. This is good. I know for many it will be painful. But right now it's good because I have a possible position.

I went to grad school for this so hopefully I'll pass all those testing Epic is going to give me and I'll be certified to train. That will be a 1-1/2 to 2 year commitment where I will work M-F (except for Wednesday, at least until the end of Spring semester to teach pediatric clinical at SJSU), possibly guaranteed 40 hours/week, no weekends, and if I'm really good, I might be offered a position, which if I like, I may take. Meaning more money, more travel. But that's in the future. Right now I have a chance to get away from the wearisome changes, though it means giving up the wonderful opportunities to work with patients at the bedside, and maybe, just maybe, earn a little more money that will allow me to pay my mortgage and my student loans and hopefully set some aside for my much need vacation to Anywhere in the World That's Not Here.

Still I'm just a little anxious. I've been a bedside nurse for 13 years. I know and like my colleagues. I'll miss working with them. I'll miss working with patients, comforting them, teaching them, helping them get better, helping them survive. I'll still have my students this coming semester, starting Wednesday. Hopefully I won't have to remediate anyone. That would suck. Hopefully, it'll be a good semester. Maybe I can talk one of my PICU colleagues into teaching in the Fall since I may not have the time or energy to teach after this prior commitment is fulfilled. I'm looking forward to this mew chapter in my life.

My Latest Letter: An Update

2012-01-22T12:44:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends,

Happy New Year! I hope you all had a splendid end and beginning of the year. As you probably know I have continued training with Team in Training (TnT) for my marathon in April. What you may not know is that I’ve changed events. Originally, I had signed up to run the Oakland Marathon in late March since I had heard it was a very pretty route and thought it would be fairly convenient being only a short train ride away.

However, since I’ve begun training I’ve met many wonderful and inspiring people, many of whom are running the San Luis Obispo marathon in late April. So I’ve changed events because I want to run with all my new friends. Unfortunately, since changing events all the people who donated before the change are no longer listed on my webpage: http://pages.teamintraining.org/sj/sanloobi12/runjosierun though they of course still get credit for it. And I still keep you all in my thoughts for your help and generosity. Aside from that little hiccup, everything is going well. I continue to train with TnT and follow their recommendations. And if you read my blog, you can track my personal improvements.

One of the things I haven’t mentioned in my weblog is that every week at the track meets and at the Saturday coach-led runs we meet one or more honorees: survivors of blood cancers. Their individual stories are incredibly inspiring. The money that team in Training helps raise for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS) goes directly to funding research, paying for chemo- & radiation therapies and supporting patients and families with food, transportation, respite, etc. I have no personal honoree for whom I’m running, but I recently learned that one of my oldest friend’s cousin was diagnosed with leukemia in 2005. Also, I do have a few friends & relatives with other kinds of cancer, some who have died and some who are surviving. I run for all of them, that my friend's cousin Isobel may continue to live cancer-free and that those friends and members of my family suffering from the many forms of this horrible disease may one day benefit from the good that is being done through LLS.

As for fundraising, I’m almost half-way there. Another positive thing about changing marathons is that I now have till late March to reach my fundraising goal (minimum) of $3000. If you’ve already donated to the cause, thank you. I am profoundly grateful and awestruck by your generosity. If you have not yet donated, please consider doing so. The monies being raised will not be wasted in any sense; your donations are tax deductible and your employer might even be willing and able to make a matching donation. If you are interested in donating, you can do so through my webpage (URL listed above) or you can send cash or check to my home at:

88 Bush Street #1206

San Jose, CA 95126-4865

On behalf of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, thank you for you support and kind generosity.

Respectfully,

Josephine

Ice baths and beer

2012-01-14T20:18:00.000-08:00

Shin splint gone and another personal best achieved! But first, before I tell you all about it, let me tell you about my week.
I told you of course about Tuesday night and the harrowing, deeply painful experience with Massage Guy. Wednesday was not much better. My leg still hurt, more so after the massage, but only when I pressed it to see how painful it still was. Wednesday I cross-trained and per all the recommendations, and though my legs weren't so very sore in general that day, I decided to take an ice bath.

As I've never taken an ice bath before I decided to do a little research. I knew from training to add ice slowly but after that I was at a loss. There were various wordy instructions that I just didn't have the time or the inclination to read as I was wanting to take that bath as soon as possible so I could take a shot shower as soon a possible so I could get dressed in dry warm clothes as soon as possible. So I hit on this here blog about some sweaty girl who ice bathes after long runs. It was very helpful. Told me to do things like wear something warm up top, drink some hot tea and eat something to refuel while sitting in freezing water and, the best tip of all, watch something on my computer that will entertain and take my mind off the freezing cold water.

Hot tea, toast with cream cheese, and a bucket of ice.

Unfortunately, the ice bucket in the freezer was not as full as I had thought since I haven't been using ice for several weeks and what was in there was slowly evaporating. That's about 3 pounds of ice, probably a little less, and as you'll see below they look like pretty little flower petals making the water not so much icy as just darn cold.

I was pleased however when I realized that my latest Netflix dvd was a British comedy I used to love to watch back in the 80s but hadn't seen in a long time. The first episode lasted about 25 minutes. By then the ice was all gone and the water was feeling decidedly tepid.

As you can see by my smile, the water was not that icy.

Then Wednesday night I went to 'A Cause to Celebrate', met some other Team in Training participants, some other honorees, signed up to be a bone marrow donor and got my Team in Training sweatshirt for having achieved 50% of my minimum! Thanks everyone!

While there, I was able to speak with Coach Kris who recommended ice baths, icing with dixie cups and not running, but instead cross training again on Thursday. Saturday hopefully my leg would be better, but if not, I could still walk the trail.

My second ice bath on Thursday was later in the evening, after work (where I walked around all shift with a ziplocked bag of ice taped to my leg) and after cross training. This time I went out to Safeway and purchased a 9-pound bag, conveniently packaged in smaller 3-pound bags. The bath was much colder and but still bearable as you can see below, I've still got a smile.

Then Friday came. But first let me tell you about work. I love my work. I love my job. I can even say I love my colleagues. We're good people. However, lately there's been a lot of change going on, mostly due to the fact that the state is broke and as I work in a county hospital, we are feeling the effects by way of reengineering. I get it. I do. I'm just a little tired of the culture change and though I take days off as needed, I haven't been on an actual vacation since grad school and I'm just a little tired of the work thing. And, though it is completely my decision to be so busy, it seems as though I'm either working or training and all I really wanted yesterday was a beer and vegetarian curry. It was a busy day at work. I was hungry when I got home and the little bit of food I ate before literally running out of the house, speeding into downtown, and gulping a mouthful of foamy yumminess as soon as it was placed in front of me, was probably not enough. My intention was to drink one beer, have a little dinner, and go home for some much needed rest, more ice packs to my leg and then turn in early for my planned 10-mile run on Saturday morning. Incidentally, I had made plans with Jen to join me on Saturday morning and I was supposed to pick her up at 630am.

Three beers later I arrived home just a little after 10pm with the 'spins'. I don't necessarily regret the beers as I obviously needed time to unwind. But there were moments last night when my laugh was frighteningly too loud. I'd laugh and then clap my hand over my mouth, which would kind of make me lean back, which would then make me lose my balance, and then I'd have to grab hold of my friend so as not to fall off the stool. At least that's how it felt. I could feel my sober self cringing inside at the indiscreetly loud woman with no control over the volume of her laughter. Then the filter on my mouth was knocked more askew... I did manage to make a few donation request plugs. There is no ego when it comes to charity.

Anyway, when I go home I was also dirty as I'm a shower at night type of girl and my mad dash to Teske's didn't allow for even Purell. So I showered. With the spins. And when I was done I was so tired and so...spinny...that in my impatience to dry off and get to bed I ripped the towel off the rack and ripped the towel holder off the wall. I tried fixing it, but well, it was just so spinny. On three beers. I quickly dried my hair, stumbled into my pj's and fell into bed.

If only I could have stayed there. Somewhere in the wee hours I felt that some electrolytes were possibly a good idea and hobbled into the kitchen and by the light of the refrigerator, and with only one eye partially open, I shook out a tablet of Nuun into not quite enough water and knowing that small sips are the way to go and that the faster it goes down, the faster it comes up, I stumbled back to bed, gagged down a few sips of crappy flavored water and rolled back into bed.

But it does not end there. Some small while later, I got up to use the toilet, but quickly realized that I needed to do something else instead. I must say that I'm pleased with my aim in the dark. I did feel better after emptying my stomach of crappily flavored water. Unfortunately, I still didn't sleep well and I didn't want to over sleep. And I could smell the crappy water whenever I repositioned my head.

Well, at 5:15 I stumbled out of bed with the most shambling, sick-to-my-head and -stomach manner and prepared some oatmeal because one needs fuel to run 10 miles in 35 degree weather. You have no idea how disgusting it was. I had cut a banana into the cereal and only just managed to choke enough oatmeal down to finish the banana but I may as well have been eating poop for all the faces I was making and gagging I was doing.

In the end I had to take 800mg of ibuprofen to get rid of my headache. Oopsy. Apparently, ibuprofen is contraindicated before running because in can cause your sodium levels to go all wonky but I couldn't in good conscience take acetaminophen when my liver was already hating me.

Luckily by the time I made it to Jen's (she's probably the only reason I actually went, with out her I would have stayed in bed) I felt better and ran/walked 10 miles up in Sawyer Camp, a very pretty place. And my shin felt fine the whole long way. My knee though is another story as the uneven pavement made my foot falls a little unbalanced a few times which eventually effected my knee. No more long runs though for another couple of weeks so I'm hoping I'll be recovered by then.

Then, once I got home, I took yet another ice bath.

This time it was squash, an extra large cup of tea and more water because though the run was great I was still dehydrated.

This time it was all the ice, 9 pounds.

This ice bath was quite a bit colder and involved shouted obscenities, strange vocalizations like a mastodon stuck in a tar pit, and occasional core exercises as I lifted my legs clear of the water because really, a dying mastodon is a sad, sad sound. I also called for my mommy and was about to make a deal with any diety who would listen. But the episode I was watching eventually ended and the ice melted and my shin feels fine, though my knee is still quite sore.

And the hangover is gone. Go figure. I might actually be a real runner.

As you can see, no smile.

Shin splints...

2012-01-11T11:47:00.000-08:00

…suck.

I’m not sure when I started noticing thepain/discomfort in my lower left leg, but it seemed more bothersome last nightduring the warm up run. Since the beginning of the season, that is since earlyDecember, my left leg has always been a little more sore than the right after aworkout/run. But it would go away and all would be good for a few days. ReallyI should have been icing from the beginning but dammit it’s winter, and thoughwinter at 37.30N/121.87W and at 87 feet above sea level, is stillfreezing when one is cooling down and wet with sweat. It is damn cold. Lastweek after track I drove home with the seat warmer on full blast and sitting onalternate hands and my hands didn’t warm up till after I had my shower and had a cup of rooiboosin my hands. I am NOT exaggerating.

So…ice baths. I think the turn off for me right now issitting in the icy water. I’d have to fill the tub with tepid water and emptythe ice bucket from the freezer into the water and then sit for 15-20-30minutes. It’s the sitting. Though I guess my butt could use the therapy aswell.

So last week, or maybe the week before, the Sports Instituteguy came by and told us all about taking care of our aches and pains as soon aspossible. I guess my ache and pain wasn’t enough last week to make me think itwasn’t just my muscles screaming in protest at the idea of running a marathon.But this week the pain was just a little sharper so after the 10 minute warm upit went over to the massage guy who will now be at all track meets and told himabout my leg. It hurts, more so today, that is yesterday, that previously. Evenhurts after sitting for a long time and then decide to stand and walk someplace. And I haven’t been icing.The other leg feels fine. He feltaround my calf and shin for a few seconds, asked a few questions and then thetorture began.

Pure, terrifying torture. It was like Monty Python and theSpanish Inquisition. It was like being stabbed repeatedly with a round –edgedspackle knife. And not a single four letter word, or their many letteredcousins, passed by lips. I did almost cry though.

Then he had me turn over to work on the back of my calf.

Pure, terrifying torture.

He recommended icing, foam roller and possibly havingcontinued work on my leg if the icing and rolling are ineffective. I think myleg might be more sore now than before he drilled holes into my legs with histhumbs but that’s possibly the after-effects of deep tortuous massage. By thetime I got home last night it was almost 9pm. I showered. Then when I was warmand dressed I pulled out my herbal pad that I keep in the freezer and wrappedmy leg up. Not the best I know, especially since my cat decided to lie down onthe other side of my leg (it was quite comforting), but I plan to remedy thattoday after I work out in the gym.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Personal Best

2012-01-07T14:06:00.000-08:00

Happy Saturday everyone! Time for another, though hopefully brief, update. Today with Team in Training we met at Almaden Lake Park. I have never been there before so the novelty was nice. I was also able to use my new GPS watch, the one I pictured in an earlier blog. It doesn’t have all the capabilities of some and was not the cheapest (there was a Garmin with more functions that was cheaper) but I preferred the look of this one. Also, it’s a mite smaller than the Garmin’s that I saw; fits better on my dainty wrists.


A view of Almaden Lake Park, not today though, some warmer day.

Well, today was a personal best. I jogged (ran/walk intervals) 8 miles. I’ve never done that before so I’m quite proud of myself. And at my usual 12 minute/mile pace. Next week I hope to improve my distance by 2 miles. I work this coming Thursday so I’ll be doing another OYO run, but this time in the evening. I might make it for a buddy run somewhere, but I’m hoping to start earlier that I might be home sooner to relax, shower and eat. But I’ll just have to wait and see.

Today was also a post-run potluck and several Honorees came to say a few words. Honorees are members of the Team who have been diagnosed with blood cancer. The ones I met today were all in remission, perhaps even cured though I wouldn’t want to jinx anyone. The stories they told were inspiring and just a little emotional. Emotional mostly because they spoke of hope and gratitude, gratitude for the help and support they received through LLS, for their lives and for being fortunate enough to meet such fine individuals as we who make up Team in Training, fundraising and hope-raising. It was a pleasant reminder that though my friend Jennifer, and also my friend and colleague Corinne, may have inspired me to start, my teammates and the Honorees are keeping me inspired to continue.

I am very grateful to be a part of this.

Oh, and here's a link.

Uneven, Burning Hot Coals

2011-12-27T22:13:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year! I hope you all had a great end and beginning. I ended my year with 90 minutes of vinyasa, followed by another 90 minutes of quiet yet pleasant conversation with complete strangers. That's right. Instead of going to a party and over-imbibing, I went to yoga and savasana'ed my way into the new year. Then eight hours later I got up and did more yoga. It was a wonderful start to a new year and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I then spent the rest of the first day of the year knitting, which by the way makes me feel closer to my mom. I was relaxed and content.

I also felt productive. I think I have hit on an idea--knitting a few things to sell as a fundraising exercise. Only problem is I only know how to knit & purl, in the very simplest sense, and have not yet figured out how to pick up dropped stitches or how I manage to pick up stitches. Seriously, where do those extra stitches come from? Also, I only know how to make scarves. Once I made a hat. Years ago. But if I can pound out some scarves before it gets much warmer (January in California is...tepid. At least it is in San Jose) I might be able to raise a few dollars. Yea, that's gonna be a challenge. Maybe I can say they were made by my kindergarten-aged relative. That's ok, right? Lying for cancer research?

Well aside from yoga and yarn, I've still been training. With the recent holidays, training has been 'OYO' so I was able to arrange with my friend Jennifer, who inspired me to run this here marathon, to meet in Los Gatos, on the LG Creek Trail, one morning and at Rancho San Antonio in Palo Alto on New Year's eve. The LGCT in Los Gatos, as opposed to the section running through Campbell, is quite nice, but one that I've seen often while taking a little exercise on my mountain bike. As another friend calls it--the Los Gatos Wuss Trail. Anyway, I was tired and possibly would have wussed out with more walking and a slower running pace if not for my teammate Kylie and Jennifer, who by the way has a GPS watch with interval functions. 4:1 was almost too much for me that morning.

Saturday however was Rancho San Antonio. A delightfully beautiful trail with lots of rolling hills (much like I'll apparently experience in SLO). I really enjoyed RSA though my butt was so cold that it was literally numb. Literally. Seriously. Major surgery could have been performed on my ass and I would not have noticed. The rest of me was warm though. Again I was tired, but having a friend with me the entire time was incredibly helpful, and not just for her GPS.

Tuesday, yesterday, was back to the track. Last week we did timed trials, of which we have yet to receive the results, but I'm going to take a wild stab and say that I'm a slow runner. Yesterday we practiced cadence. You know, beat. 180 beats per minutes, or in our case, foot strikes, is apparently the...something, something, something. More efficient, less work, yadda yadda. I was always off by about ten. Ten under which I believe means my stride is too long, and possibly too slow? And dammit we did like eight practices and I couldn't improve the rate! Finally, Coach Kris said, 'Try to imagine that you're walking on hot coals. You don't want to commit to having your foot settle on the ground. Also, try to imagine that the ground is uneven, like you're running on rocks. As your foot strikes the ground lift it right back up.'

So I did. I actually had to keep that image of hot, burning, lumpy coals in my head to improve my cadence. The moment the image slipped all hell would break loose. ALL HELL. So now that is what I have to do, practice with that burning, lumpy image to keep my cadence at 180bpm. Fun!

Well, aside from that my fundraising efforts continue to come along. Hopefully, some snazzy scarves will be gracing the necks of generous supports soon. At the very least, maybe some kind souls will make a pity purchase.

Buddy Run

2011-12-24T13:47:00.000-08:00

Well today I finally got to go to a buddy run. It was damn cold. So buddy runs are scheduled into the training week alongside Tuesday track workouts, and Saturday coach-led training wherein we go to some scenic place and jog our booties off. Or, actually, a set number of miles. Focus is endurance, not speed. Anyway, Thursdays and some Saturday are 'on your own' or buddy runs. The past few times I've had to do OYO runs due to scheduling conflicts.

They were a little difficult without the camaraderie of a buddy, and just this past Thursday I was feeling an immoderate amount of exhaustion. It was all I could do to drag myself out of bed, and then fumble into clothes, and then push myself outside. I possibly would have done better except the dragging and the fumbling made me late for starting and I wanted to make a yoga class (kundalini) right after. I had intended to stay for the vinyasa class right after, but I was too tired and felt a little dizzy and nauseated. And then Friday I wanted to go to a new yoga class, Deep Slow Flow, followed by Yin (one of my favorites), but I was still so tired with no impetus for leaving the snug indoors. Probably I would have felt better if I had gone out and at least went for a walk, but I stayed in until late afternoon and then got slammed with all the last minute shoppers being out and about too. So Friday was truly a rest day.

Then I went to bed by 9pm and finally, finally, I awoke rested. And after some crazy, and entertaining, dream involving 'dinner and a show' with Regina Spektor doing some crazy Lady Gaga stuff, some strange zombie dogs, a dead Wookie and a communal shower. Luckily I awoke. It was getting a little dramatic.

I like this one.

Well, as I was saying, buddy run. Yeah. Finally. And it was good. Ran 4 miles in about 50 minutes. My GPS for some reason turned off and my interval app accidentally got turned off when I was putting my phone in my pocket so I'm unsure exactly how far and fast I went. Luckily, I had my buddies who knew where the turn-around was so I'm confident I made four miles. It's just my pace I'm unsure of. That is without doing the math. Today was also the day I finally was able to do intervals, 3:1, though my app got turned off toward the end. Unless it finished? But I had another 10 minutes I think... The 3:1 intervals were quite helpful. Maybe as I get stronger I can move up to a 4:1 interval. But I won't try to rush.

Now of course I'm even more tempted to buy a sports watch with GPS and interval settings. As it is I'm profoundly happy I bought running gloves because it was damn cold (30 degrees F) and my fingers, toes, and the tip of my nose were so cold at the beginning that I thought my bits were going to fall off.

Training Day

2011-12-20T21:42:00.000-08:00

This was the second session of coach-led training and I can't tell if I'm getting better. Last week I ate just the right amount of food before training, but then ate all those nachos late in the evening. This week I ate too much before training and had slow start. But after intervals of core rounds and jogging I felt better. And I won a prize for most spirited singing! Awesome!
However, since I have to work tomorrow (i.e. get up at 5am, be at work at 6am, and take care of sick children, so don't give me that 'but I work tomorrow too') I decided that Hanging with the Gang and eating late was not the best decision for me. So I'm home. And blessedly showered.
Hopefully, come Thursday I will be up for some 'on your own' running session. It'll have to be after work though and since tomorrow is the longest night of the year, or is that today, (and though the next day--Thursday--begins the upswing to shorter nights) I think it'll still be too dark to attempt an actual OYO session. Perhaps I should try the Buddy Runs with my mentor group but I'm thinking I might be quite tired come Thursday night after working a whole freaking four days in a row. What's that about?
Anyway, so far so good. Fundraising has slowed down a bit, but I guess Christmas is a difficult time to be extra generous when the government is having such financial problems, especially as most of my colleagues work for the county and the county is getting tight-fisted. Ah well. I will let it rest till Boxing Day and then all shame be damned! No one is safe from my fundraising intentions!

Until then, good night and good luck!

2nd Week

2011-12-17T17:46:00.000-08:00

I'm a little behind as I had intended to write something up about Tuesday night's training. Now these many days later, I'm not sure I remember all that I had hoped to write.
Tuesday nights are coach-led training nights. We meet in the evenings in at the Los Gatos High School track. This first Tuesday we ran laps, interval laps, with a partner. Basically trading off and tagging one another as we each finished our lap. Luckily, my partner ran about the same pace so I was able to rest nicely. Some people seemed to zoom around the track, almost effortlessly. I mean some of them looked like they were just walking, just taking a little walk, and I couldn't catch up. Anyway, interval jogging with some warm-up and cool down and some stretching followed by a wee bit of core strengthening.
After the meet is what they call a 'hang with the gang' time. This first time was at Pedro's in Los Gatos. I didn't really want to go since I was tired and sweaty and had eaten a little before the meet so I wasn't really hungry. That however didn't stop me from devouring three baskets of chips with salsa. I ordered some vegetables only, while everyone else ordered great big plates of beans and rice and bits of fried meat. Why would anyone want to eat so heavily so late in the evening? But it was a good time and that was mostly why I had decided to go. That and the possibility of earning a little fundraising money with half the bill total being donated. That actually went to someone who had no money raised. So a good cause regardless.

Well, today was the second Saturday of training. I ran 6 miles in 1 hour and 20 minutes. Today I was very tired. I don't know if I was tired because I did yoga yesterday, and was tired then too, because I wasn't hydrated enough, or perhaps because I had slept poorly. Since I haven't trained before I've decided to use the run-walk method. I did a great deal of walking today, more I think that I thought I would. But it's only the second week and guess what? I've decided to change marathons. Since day one almost everyone I've been meeting has signed up for the San Luis Obispo marathon and it'd be nice to run with some of them. It's a really pretty area too. Just hopefully I won't suffer any dry eye syndrome like the last time I was there. But that was summer. And I've hopefully taken care of the dry eye thing with two freaking rounds of Restasis, Hydro-eyes, and multivitamins galore.
So SLO means I have four more weeks, on top of the seventeen I get for the Oakland marathon, of training and can possibly slow my training down a little. Which apparently I have already done. April 22 I think is the new date. Yay me and Go Team!

First Coach Lead Training Weekend!

2011-12-10T12:59:00.001-08:00

W00T! Had my firstTeam in Training day this morning and I’m not nearly as tired as I thought I’dbe. Though since I unthinkingly went for a 4-mile run yesterday I was quitetired during the first 2 miles, and then again for the last two. Did a total of5 miles, with a 12-minute mile. And I was wearing my new shoes which arewonderfully cushiony.

Today I also mettwo honorees though only one spoke to us about her battle with Hodgkin’sLymphoma. Happily she’s been cancer-free for these past thirteen years. I’mlooking forward to talking more with her as well as meeting other honorees.They are the reason that I’m doing this. The getting in shape thing is just aperk.

Now that I’m homeand must return to work tomorrow, there’s things I need to complete. Likefollow-up letters for the first one I sent out, a brief letter for those quick ‘pleasesupport me!’ pleas when I only have a few minutes to hopefully reel someone in,and my family letter which I probably should have sent out first.

Newton Light Womens Running Shoe

Anyway, now I’m tiredand hungry and I still need to go out and do things. Damn. But here’s a pic ofmy news awesome shoes.

Thanks and Go Team!

http ://pages .teamintraining .org /sj /Oakland 12/josephineruiz

Kick-Off

2011-12-05T15:08:00.001-08:00

Saturday was the Kick-off Celebration for this seasons Team in Training. So much information. I still feel nervous about raising enough money before early March. I'm definitely not fundraising as much as I could, but I feel at a loss. I have no talent. None. I don't sing, dance, knit, sew, make cute crap that people want to buy. I don't bake, but if I did so many of my colleagues are used to being spoiled at work with free food I have a feeling they would look at me askance if I tried to charge them a dollar of rice crispy treats. An I can't say that I would blame them. I have nothing to raffle. I might have few things to sell at a garage sale, now I just need a garage to sell it from. I don't even know if I know anyone who works at companies that do matching gifts. All the people I work with work for the county and the county's bankrupt. I know one person, definitely, who works for Apple, do they do matching gifts?

There's a doctor who used to consult with Google. They do matching gifts. I'm gonna have to send him a special email.

Anyway, so far I've raised $700+ for the cause. Hopefully, once I tell my family, more donations will come in. I think one of my cousins works for HP. Do they do matching donations? I'm hopeful that my family will pull through with significant help though I don't believe any of my family has had any blood cancers. Two of my dad's brothers, however, were diagnosed with other cancers. I hope they won't feel that I'm neglecting them. Because I'm not. I want to help them all. And this research will help, even if it's not immediately.

So kick-off on Saturday and I worry that I won't raise the money that I need. I'm not so concerned right now that I won't be able to run 26.2 miles though I hope I'm up for the 6 mile run on Saturday. I went to yoga on Sunday (twice, all core, ouch) and stopped by at Running Revolution after and got a jump on the Tuesday evening clinic. As in my last post, I'm worried about how tired my feet are in the Five Fingers. Apparently, I'm not the only one with tired feet. So the man there showed me a different brand of running shoe with extra cushion at the balls of the feet. They felt very comfortable when I tried them out and wonderfully cushiony. Unfortunately, they didn't have a 7.5, though the size 7 fit nicely, they salesman mentioned allowing for swelling. I'll try to work out before going in tomorrow so my feet might be all warmed up and sore before going in and then try on the size 7s again. The shoes are roomy enough but if not for the mesh upper, they might be too short and close to the big toes. But I'll see how things are tomorrow.

Still, money! Give me money! Or... Please help me raise funds for a good cause!

The Los Gatos Creek Trail

2011-12-02T19:36:00.001-08:00

I am damn tired. Damn tired.

I was able to leave work 20 minutes early and as I drove today I went directly to LGCT for my pre-training jog. I was tired from the get go. And I hadn't been tired at work. Perhaps it was my light lunch of tomato soup and two fruits, but I just couldn't pick up my pace till I was almost done. 3.8 miles in 50 minutes. I had to walk a bit too. A little disappointing but I guess we're all allowed slow days.

Also my feet were excessively tired and sore during my jog. I wear Vibram's Five Fingers

after speaking with a couple of friends about running on your toes and the comfort of the shoes. They are interesting and it is like being barefoot. But then, it's like being barefoot. I stepped on a few rocks today that could have been crippling if I had stepped just a little differently. Our first session with TnT on Tuesday is actually at an athletic shoe store to help people get the right equipment. I think I just need something with a thicker sole. Hopefully there'll be someone there on Tuesday who knows this brand. I think I need more socks too. I had been wearing them without socks, but now that it's a little cooler I've been wearing my toes socks and I find that the seam in one of the shoes doesn't bother as it used.

Needless to say, I didn't make yoga or First Friday. Bummer.

Anyway, seventeen more weeks. Hopefully, I'll find something before then.

And please support me!

Pre-training Training

2011-12-01T11:37:00.001-08:00

Well, I still have until this Saturday, or maybe the following Tuesday, or even the following Saturday, before actual training begins. All this time I've been trying to get myself up to at least 3 miles at a time, which I've done. Managed the SV Turkey Trot 5K in just under 40 minutes which I will say right now is awesome as I hadn't quite managed 2.5 miles at the time. Also, a couple of days ago I repeated the 5K and today I plan to jog for 50-60 minutes after work. Then hopefully by Saturday, before the TnT Kick-Off Celebration at 9am, I will have succeeded in jogging at least 5 miles, maybe 6, in 1 to 1-1/4 hours.

See, I have a plan. Because the TnT plan is to have us Oakland Marathon runners jog 6 miles in the first training session, whichever day that is, so I need to be up to par come that day.

So, training. It's really tiring. And my feet and legs hurt afterwards. Who knew? So now that I am completely reminded how tired I used to get after a 30 minute jog, I am starting to get worried that 26.2 miles might be a few miles out of my league. And I still have to raise the $2200 before early March. So far, I'm 30% there and I still have to tell my family and do some more shameless fund raising at the various yoga studios I frequent, and maybe hit up those second job peeps once again as I haven't heard a word from them.

A neighbor of mine, lives in the same complex, is also signed up with TnT, to run the San Luis Obispo marathon a month later. She apparently did a marathon last year and held a raffle for some Apple products. Lucky bi-... Lucky. She mentioned things like nanos and iPads. Grrr. Well, I have nothing like that but I do have a friend from England who pledged $30US so it's completely doable outside the US. In case you were wondering. Also, I know some awesome people. As I said, I've so far raised over $600 and that's just a few handfuls of people and none of my family yet.

However, I wan to also say that some are exceptionally cheap. Two PICU intensivists with whom I work weren't gonna give me anything. Outright. They said no. Seriously? For a good cause? However, I wheedled $5 out of one and a flaky promise for the price of a cafe latte from another. I mean really! At least make it $10. My good friend who just returned to full-time grad school, and quit his job to do so, pledged $10 and he's living on student loans right now. Goodness! I'll get more money from them. Really just $5 more! Really.

Several hours later.
So yeah, the jogging thing didn't happen. So hopefully I'll make it tomorrow after work. That's part of the problem. It's difficult to go jogging when one is tired and possibly still digesting lunch and before the sun sets. I know I could have used the treadmill in the gym but I then I would have been very tired and probably hungry again. And it was such a bright afternoon too.

On the plus side, I learned that Guadalupe River Trail opened up after Little Italy so I may have even more trail to run. Hopefully it's safe. Now I think of it, maybe I should drive to work tomorrow and go straight to the Los Gatos Creek Trail from work. Then I can get my jogging done and be home in time for Candle Light yoga at 6pm. Possibly followed by by First Friday.

Yea, so... 5K! Yay me!

Hello again.

2011-11-19T15:37:00.001-08:00

So...you're here at last.That's actually a line from a movie. One of my favorites based on a classic novel. I could have started out with 'I have returned' but I know so little about McArthur. Anyway, here I am. I've been absent a long time. I used to spout off at the fingertips (not necessarily obvious from any blogging as my spouts were more of a personal thing and blogging came only recently-computers having gotten smaller as I've gotten older-a lack of general public making some things easier to disclose), writing, writing, writing. I couldn't stop. Oh the depth of my prose! But somewhere along the way, I stopped writing, or typing, and just starting doing. The thinking too may have lessened. I just did. You know? It's nice. I saw nature in all it's natural glory. I met people. I talked. I worked. I lived. Whereas when I wrote I was usually turned inward. I got to know myself very well during that time. Understood personal motives, long held desires, obsessions, and habits. But learning all this while turned inward didn't actually help change any of those things I didn't like about me and often kept me from developing closer relationships with friends and family. Oh I knew myself well, just not anyone else.

Of course now I still know myself well, but I'm chocking that up to age and wisdom. And I still don't know others very well, but again, that's more of an age and wisdom thing. I'm still shy and introverted, but I believe most people wouldn't necessarily think that of me on casual acquaintance since shy introversion diminishes the likelihood of developing long lasting relationships and generally doesn't get you anything you may want.

But enough of that. Time to get back to writing and the corresponding thinking that that entails. Heck, I may even start reading the newspaper again. But maybe not. The media seems only interested in all the crap that goes on in the world, people being killed in various tortuous ways, lack of jobs, lack of money, too much greed. And the occasional car chase. Really I could probably just write my own headlines first and then attach them to the stories within.

Again, enough of that. Here I am. With a purpose. First a small to moderately sized update:

I am now a homeowner and it's mostly a good thing except that I never used to worry about paying rent whereas I lose at least a little sleep when occasional surprises come up, like the dreaded property taxes, how did I not know about those?, that wear the bank accounts a little thin. I now live closer to city center and mostly walk or take public transport. I like it. Still, I don't go into town as often as I could or would. I still like being cozy at home in the evenings, mostly, except like right this instant I'd probably opt for an evening at the pub for a 20 oz. of Kronenberg with a side of vegetarian curry, but those damn property taxes make spend money willy-nilly more like nilly-nilly. I did buy a cafe latte today though and enjoyed a good hour or so in a cafe reading a library book. Whoo me!

I'm doing way more yoga than I ever used to and I love it. Vinyasa, yin, kundalini, anusara. I like it all. Even wondering if maybe I should become a yoga instructor. You know? Instead of going back for my doctorate.

Speaking of which, one day I will go back for my doctorate. Just can't seem to decide where to take it. It would most likely start out as a post-grad degree, unless I finally go for a degree in English/literature, which would so answer my love of reading, but I should probably try to work toward paying off my student loans. Which would mean getting a job relating to nursing informatics. And maybe I will if I get a temporary position at work for the eventual cut-over to Epic from the old world paper charting VMC currently uses. Eighteen months of possibly full-time, M-F employment. I dislike the idea of leaving patient care (and adore the idea of not having to work every other weekend), but it would offer more scope for the degree I worked so hard for and possibly help me decide what more to do with my life, or actually, career. And those dreaded property taxes might be less icky next year with a full-time paycheck. Unfortunately, I don't actually want to work full-time. I like my 0.6 code, meaning a three-day work week.

And I'm now teaching.That's also new. I'm a teacher. Call me Professor Ruiz. It's not as nerve-wracking this time as when I taught while in grad school. For one thing, I'm actually teaching where I work as an RN so I know all the people, all the policies (except when they change them) and all those ins and outs. Still a little worrisome since I have 10 or so unlicensed people working under my license and I need to crisscross the corridors almost constantly, making sure they're safe, and able, and knowledgeable. It's not easy, but I do like it. More than I thought I would when I decided to try teaching again. And I'm getting so much more support at SJSU than I did at USF, but then I was quite stretched then, working 32 hours/week, 12 hours of classes (not including any coursework) and 12 hours of clinicals a week. Yeah that was a hard semester.

On the other hand I got all this great money once a month from teaching. It was so unexpected. Seriously. And now, teaching again, I'm getting some more of that great money, and since it's a CSU I'm also adding to my CalPERs! That's possibly why the dreaded property taxes weren't more like the staggeringly devastating property taxes rendering me catatonic and not a little clinically depressed. I could have been my own Prozac nation.

Those are really the only changes in my life. Everything else is pretty much the same. I'm a pediatric nurse. I'm single. I have no children. I have two cats.

Oh, and I've decided to run a marathon. The marathon thing is actually what made me come back to blogging. If only temporarily, and possibly sporadically. I've never run more than 3 miles or 30 minutes before this past summer when I decided to try training with my friend, at which point I managed to run/jog 6 miles and 60 minutes. That took several weeks to accomplish. And that's where it ended. About two and a half months ago my brother's second to youngest child, a 15 year old girl, asked if she could live with me. My brother and his wife are...estranged. I used to try to refrain from maligning the estranged wife, but after a few weeks with my niece I realized that all those stories regarding the horribleness of her were completely true. And since I can totally see wanting to get away from my brother, loving father that he is, he is impatient and lazy and inept in managing his temper. So I said yes. She was here for all of six weeks before it was decided that her own utter laziness was unacceptable and she went back to her dad. But during that time, I up-heaved my life, UP HEAVED, to accommodate her in it. And so I lost momentum in training with my friend. I almost lost momentum with yoga. When I was finally able to go back to a class it was intense. Intense I say. I had all this deep breathing going on. Heated vinyasa. Just what I needed.

So I slacked, but then my friend, Jennifer V., who had been training to complete her first marathon with Team in Training, actually completed her first marathon. In case you don't know, a marathon is 26.2 miles. That's insane! So she trained and trained and ran the Nike Women's Marathon in San Francisco, not the easiest because of all those damn hills, but apparently completely and utterly worth it. Me and two other friends, and half of San Francisco's populace stood in the sidelines to cheer her on and it was quite the emotional teacup ride. And very inspiring. My friend inspired me. So now I'm going to run my own marathon, in March and I need to raise money and train.

Here's a plug for shameless fund-raising. Please support me with Team in Training as we raise money to fund research to find a cure for blood cancers and do so much more!

So here I am. Blogging. My intention is to mark my progress from a person who will only run no more than, right now, 1-1/2 miles in 18 minutes, unless a crazed man with a machete were chasing after me, to someone who can complete a marathon without having someone in a Segway picking me up and carrying me across the finish line. I want to inspire. Or at least prove that I have the right stuff. Another movie reference, interestingly one that I've never seen. Strange that.

Anyway, here I am with something new in my life. I wonder what it'll bring?

An Update

2010-03-28T14:21:00.000-07:00

It’s been a while since my last post and unfortunately nothing much has changed in regards to the bane of work, except perhaps that my patience is even shorter and that NO ONE likes her with the possible exception of the management , but then she brown noses so much no amount of soap will ever get the shit off it.

And seriously, isn’t it so very sad that she is so profoundly unliked at work. You would think all our negative energy directed at her would cause her to have unending migraines or something. Still she needs to be deported and that’s not something I have ever wished on anyone before. And I’m not the only one who wants to sign that bon voyage card.

Grant me the serentity to not bitch slap her out a fifth floor window: A rant.

2010-01-19T17:37:00.000-08:00

I've mentioned her before and I truly dislike the idea of allowing her more importance that she deserves in my life, because otherwise I don't waste a great deal of time on thinking of her, but I just need to get this out. I think I really, truly dislike her. I know, I know. She's a good person, but that's not what I dislike, and hate is too strong a word for someone I care so little for. I just profoundly dislike her. I don't like working with her and I don't like her. That's not to say that I wish anything bad to happen to her, I just don't want to work with her and if she were to lose her green card and be forced back to Canada tomorrow, I would be the first to sign the 'bon voyage' card. This is the same woman who got two full weeks off from work during Christmas holidays, when such vacations are not usually allowed. We are a 24/7 facility people and as much as we try those sick people just won't go home just because we want a day off. But this vacation came with mixed blessing and in the end we were all, all of us, I repeat all of us, were just so happy to be free from her constant neediness and condescension for two blissful weeks. So I feel it's safe to say that I am not the only one who dislikes working with her and isn't it so sad that she is so disliked, and she probably doesn't even know it, I wonder if she gets headaches, and that she can change a day promising sunshine, lollipops and rainbows into the eighth circle of hell. The one with the human excrement. And maybe a little fifth and seventh circles mixed in, but definitely crap. Anyway, the day completely changed for me when someone changed staffing around so that she and I worked together, instead of I and someone I don't dislike and generally get along with. I completely understand that at this point my intense dislike is my own problem and something that I need to get over, but then this morning she did that quiet down thing

and my day went out the window. Unfortunately, she remained stationary on the fifth floor.

And while I'm on this little rant, let me just say that my opinion of pregnant women has got to crap, or maybe it's pregnant nurses. I have only met one pregnant nurse whom I've worked with often who didn't completely frustrate me and make me think slightingly of their respective abilities to be pregnant and be completely helpful. 'Oh the heavy lifting, oh the poisonous medications, oh the radiation, oh give me a freaking breaking.' Now I would never wish any one an unsafe or unhappy pregnancy, but seriously if you're going to put restrictions on your ability to perform your duties as a nurse than you need to stay home because you're just gonna piss off all the people who have to pick up your slack, because oh yes she's pregnant (read here for more, under 'work'), and again, please have a safe and happy pregnancy, but I hope you go out on maternity leave tomorrow and decide to be a stay-at home mom (because there are no more housewives) because I really dislike you.

Dreams and what comes to mind

2010-01-13T14:54:00.000-08:00

I haven't journalized my dreams since grad school and there's been some zingers that deserved contemplation and remembrance, but I let them all slide. However last night, being very restless and not very conducive to deep dreaming, I had one that troubles me.

Jeff and I have been dating for little over three months. We probably spent the first month and a half of our relationship text messaging each other like mad. Quickly we were already thinking of moving in with each other though we cooled it down knowing that we needed to get to know one another, meet his kids, etc. But it's been three months and I've yet to meet his kids, or for him to mentioned possibly meeting his kids. We go whole days without calling or texting. He said toward the beginning that even though he wasn't calling that didn't mean that he wasn't thinking about me. Well, that was nice while he was a full-time student, but he's been on break since late December and we've only spent a few days in each other's company. Whole days without communication and I don't feel badly about it. I wonder how he feels, but then I can't know because we don't talk much and we haven't had any serious conversations since December.

Anyway, I think he and I should break up. I like him, but I'm just as happy when he's not here with me and I don't have to contend with him for the TV or bed space. Or when I really just want to have some quiet without the TV or radio, but know that if I tried to explain it, why I wanted everything turned off, he'd just become upset, take it personally. Perhaps we'll have this important conversation this weekend. I kind of don't want to break up because I like him and I like having a companion when we are together, but I don't think we're really meant for each other. I don't love him, not like I should. Of course, we haven't been through good and bad patches because we've hardly had any patches at all. A few but not many.

Well, I've been going through these scenarios, these break up scenarios, and of course, I'm always so calm and logical and righteous. In some of the scenarios though I'm somewhat upset. Also, there are occasionally scenarios, not pertaining to Jeff and our relationship, where I just let go of any pent up anger or aggression, sort of below the surface or unconscious. They make me feel bad these scenarios. Physically bad. I can feel a weight bearing down on my chest, a sort of ultra low frequency that forces up some bile, makes the skin and muscles of my back twitch and creep like a horse suffering from biting flies. It's a bad feeling and it's troubling that unbidden scenarios are playing out when I least expect them, scenarios of violence and aggression. I don't mean uzis and bombs, just hitting,punching, shouting, and other types of raw physical violence. And just to prove the point that I'm right and you're wrong. Strange scenarios intermingled with unhappy breakup scenarios.

So I had some dreams last night, don't remember most of them; I was very restless and couldn't shut my mind off or even hold to specific thoughts. Called in sick last night at 3am. Don't like going to work so very tired, can't work quickly, can't think quickly, mistakes can be made and I won't jeopardize someone life or my livelihood on a little tiredness. Some little time after or before, don't really remember, I had this dream. Now in real life I have two very sweet cats. The older one doesn't often sleep on the bed with me having been usurped by the younger one who can occasionally be very annoying with it's sweet natured need to be so very near me. I sleep on the right side of the bed. That leaves all the left side to the younger cat. Last night she very sweetly just laid down on the left side and went to sleep and stayed in the exact same place all night, unlike other nights when she insists on sleeping to the right of me or kneads the bed clothes right up by my face or jumps around and wriggles under my hand in a sort of determination to be petted. Also, my cats are strictly indoor cats but occasionally when I find a spider or moth, I enjoy watching them pretend being great hunters.

In my dream, my cats have irritated me somewhat and in order to get them to leave me alone I spy a mouse whose presence I point out to them. I felt kind of badly for putting the mouse in jeopardy though I doubt my cats would have known exactly what to do with it if they had actually caught it. But the mouse had hidden by the time I got their attention. Instead I saw another little animal, I didn't immediately see what kind, and set their attention to it. Now my cats are really very sweet and not at all blood thirsty, but they struck a hunting pose and perhaps hissed and bared teeth and claws. The little animal became absolutely, profoundly, heart-breakingly terrified, held its little paws before its face and screamed. It was a kitten. When I realized what I had done, taken my irritation out on some innocent creature, I became profoundly remorseful. I stopped my cats, who were just standing over the strange little creature, curiously watching it, and held the kitten to my chest, trying to calm it, trying to love it. But I had stepped out of my dream by that time and my actions were more conscious than unconscious which somehow feels false to me. It wasn't a kitten's mew of fear and loneliness; it was an animal scream of terror. I did that. I did that unconsciously, vindictively, and no amount of belated, conscious remorse will take away that first instinct of meanness.

And now, awake with my cats curled up close to me, they purr with happiness and contentment as I scratch behind their ears and I still can't calm that terrified little creature, screaming and petrified. Makes me wonder what goes on inside me sometimes, makes me wonder about me and this first instinct of meanness. Makes me wonder and I don't like what comes to mind.

God's Truth

2010-01-11T09:38:00.000-08:00

I have never watched Weekend at Bernie's, Dirty Dancing, or Top Gun. And I probably never will.

Dots

2010-01-07T00:24:00.000-08:00

It's the best kind of polka dots.

Half Moon Bay

2010-01-04T21:38:00.001-08:00

So it was not an overcast day at HMB, though once the sun set it was damn cold. This is called the Whale Gate. It marks where the railroad used to come through back at the turn of the 19th century from Santa Cruz to San Francisco. This can be found on the path to Cowell's State Beach.

Off in the distance and out of sight to the right of land's end is Maverick's for those surfer dudes out there. This beach is not known for surfing, but Maverick's just a few miles away is awesome in its grandness.

You might be able to see a little dot in the middle of this photo, right before the end of dry sand meets wet sand. That was where we sat for fourish hours reading our respective novels. Completely alone. The beach was covered with foot prints from the night before and just behind us was a message picked out with rocks proclaiming the recent engagement of CB and KH. That's Jeff in the distance, Mr. Rock Med himself.

And this is him up close.

The sunset (almost) from the Whale Gate Path.

Vegan Toast Board

2010-01-04T10:07:00.000-08:00

What with the truncated work week of last week and the holiday on Thursday/Friday, I spent all of Saturday thinking it was Friday and only figured it out when it came time for the evening news. Anyway, it was a good and leisurely day filled with reading and organizing and cleaning and eating.

Yesterday I was able to make it to Campbell's Farmer's Market and thus reset my inner clock. Made dinner for me and Mr. RM, but as I was using one of my new recipes and didn't read it ahead of time, I didn't realize that I had to marinate the seitan for 3-ish hours or more. So I quickly dumped in some frozen St. Ives meatless ground meat into my Rustic Pasta, which incidently is half thinly sliced cabbage, half pasta, and a handful (or two whole) onions. I'll make the Pecan-crusted Seitan tonight. Also on the menu last night was left-over sweet potato (from dinner the night before, but I wasn't hungry when it was done baking), mashed with Earth Balance soyless buttery spread, Sicilian Greens (quickly becoming my favorite, and RM liked it too), and a bottle of red wine to wash it all down. For dessert, green tea ice cream from Soylicious and a vegan big and soft gingersnap. Yummers!

Unfortunately, Mr. RM couldn't stay the night, so off he toddled home. He'll be back in a few hours for a trip to overcast Half Moon Bay where we intend to read in the windy freezing cold at the beach and nibble on 'BSTs', trail mix, and beer.

But first, I must share with you my meal for one, of which I ate only a fraction, but the joy was in the preparation. A traditional English breakfast, made by someone who never ate a traditional English breakfast, and all vegan at that. Truthfully, I ate mostly the beans on toast (with vegan cheese) though the itty bitty potatoes, the apple sausage and bacon, and the tomatoes and mushrooms, with some of last nights greens were all very tasty. Beans on toast with a cuppa tea. Mmmmm.

More about me later. Have a good Monday!

In the Beginning

2010-01-01T21:29:00.000-08:00

I think I’ve started out a new decade very well indeed. After 8 hours of working in hospital, and actually working, not just sitting, I took myself off home, briefly, before taking the baby bullet up to SF for a night of Rock Med volunteering at a packed house for the ‘Grateful Dead’ show. Ah, what larks! The trippers were especially fun. Rung in the New Year with champagne and a chaste kiss from Mr. Rock Med. Then after being awake and actually thinking and working for sixteen of those hours, I finally made it to bed almost 24 hours later, my man beside me, money in my pocket, a kitchen full of wholesome food, and love and kindness in my heart. Not that I’m suspicious, but I’d like to think that I’m starting this year as I hope to live through it.

As for my Kind Determination that I mentioned in my last entry, so far so good. Me and my honey sauntered to the local café for a brunch hour coffee, after 6 hours of sleep, and did a little leisurely reading before returning home and going a respective ways until Saturday converges our paths again. So this day I utilized some of those yummy recipes that I’ve been trying out. I did minimal cooking today, having only eaten two meals with my late start and not being as energetic as some days.

For today I had the ever scrumptious ‘Crocodile Crunch’ and have gotten a little free with my measurements. I also tend to eat the whole two servings by myself, but I suppose if Mr. RM stays for breakfast when I have some fresh fruit available, I could share with him. However, it’s so yummy I do so with some poor grace.

For dinner, a BST and greens. That is ‘bacon’, sprouts (because I love sprout, I’ve been using sunflower sprouts recently), and tomato. My greens were a combination of lacinto kale, collards, and dandelion greens made with the ‘Sicilian Collard Greens’ recipe in the book. So yummy.

Crocodile Crunch
2-3 cups of bite-size pieces of fresh fruit (eg various berries, kiwi, banana, mango, etc.)
2 teaspoons spirulina
1-½ tablespoons any nondairy milk (soy or hemp tend to be creamier, I use vanilla soy)
2 teaspoons almond butter (I love almond butter, raw unsalted from Trader Joe’s in very tasty and quite cheap compared to many other stores)
1-½ tablespoon maple syrup (the real stuff, not the fake pancake syrup crap)
2 tablespoons fresh orange juice (I bought a small bottle of Odwalla oj since I tend not to drink fruit juices unless I’m quite thirsty and tired of water; I prefer to eat my fruit, but I guess I can cut one in half myself next time)
2 tablespoons shaved fresh or dried coconut (I have dried at home so that what I used, but I absolutely love the fresh stuff)
½ cup kamut flake cereal (I found some whole grainish cereal flakes in the bulk aisle at Whole Foods, first ingredient was kamut)

Divide fruit into 2 serving bowls (oops)
Use fork to stir together the spirulina and soymilk in small glass. Add the almond butter and mix again. Stir in the syrup and oj and stir again. Sauce should be smooth and neither too thick nor too runny.
Pour over fruit and sprinkle with coconut and cereal. Serve immediately.

Sicilian Collard Greens with Pine Nuts and Raisins
(serves 2-3)
1 bunch collards
2 tablespoon pine nuts
3 garlic cloves, peeled and chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil
3 tablespoons raisins
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

Now, I made my greens a little differently tonight. After preparing all my ingredients, I browned the pine nuts in a dry pan (I use cast iron), then add the oil (I don’t cook with olive oil but use safflower oil instead) and the garlic. After waiting for the garlic to become slightly aromatic I added the greens, in this case the kale first since it’s a hardy leaf, but then 30-60 minutes later I added the dandelion leaves and collards and then stirred almost constantly so the garlic wouldn’t burn. When the greens started getting a little bright, I added the raisins. I cooked it for a minute or two longer and then served. I forgot about the balsamic vinegar but it was so yummy without I didn’t miss it. No salt. No pepper. Pure yumminess.

This photo doesn't do my meal justice. I blame artificial light, the horrible counter top that was installed before I moved in (and I'm not paying to have a rental redone) and impatient to eat. That's three slice of my vegan bacon on a bed of sunflower sprouts and sliced cherry tomatoes on whole grain bread with vegannaise. Mmmm, damn that was a good dinner.

end of year update

2009-12-29T16:52:00.000-08:00

It has been so long since I wrote anything. That is something that’s all about me, something pleasurable, cathartic, necessary, and not patient related or other related. I’ve been filling up my time with life. Sometimes it was perhaps a bit wasted, the time that is, but I guess that infers a wasted life too, like all those hours I play online video games via Facebook. And sometimes not quite so wasted like when I read or work or volunteer or spend time with friends and family. Still, there were so many things I wanted to share. So many times I wanted to write something and just piddled away the evening or, as sometimes happened, was busy and hadn’t time.

Travels.
I’ve traveled to Portland, OR/Vancouver, WA in June to visit a transplanted friend from San Jose. Then I met him in July for a week in Hawai’i. After one week in each others company we were ready to kill each other. But we’re still friends. In September, I went to Boston for a nursing conference and didn’t see nearly enough but it’s a great city and wouldn’t mind going back for a more leisurely visit. October saw a weekend in Tahoe for yet another nursing conference as well as a week of NYC with my best girlfriends from high school, where, although we didn’t all feel like killing each other on the flight back, though we probably had our respective moments of hazy fade outs during the week, I did learn that I can’t take them all for more than a couple of days without needing to duck out by myself and fortify against the constant conversation and (LG’s) incessant chatter on absolutely everything (even things she knows nothing about, which apparently isn’t much), in the middle of a New York City street no less. (I mean, really, are all people really so noisy? I know my friends all have husbands, 2-4 kids, and dogs, but do they all have to be so noisy? Must they talk all day long?) November I took off to Disneyland with another friend from high school. A blessedly single woman who doesn’t feel the need to talk every waking minute, reads before she goes to sleep, and who rides every roller coaster, watery misadventure, and twirling carousel/teacup thingy, including the scary swinging gondola on that kick-ass Ferris wheel in California Adventure.

Finally, December was spent gratefully at home where I bemoaned my finances after all these months of increased, though somewhat frugal, spending. Ah home!

Education.
I’ve been trying to study for the CCRN (certified critical care RN) for the past several months, but I keep getting sidetracked with novels. (Novels. I’ve read many. I’m participating in an online book club but no one has written anything since July or August. I didn’t read ‘Hideous Kinky’ because I couldn’t find it in time; I read ‘the Plague’—Loved it!—and am currently reading ‘the Wind-Up Bird Chronicles’, but I’ve gotten stuck, though it’s a well written and interesting story. I’ve just decided to read several other books as well, including ‘Emma’ which I haven’t read in years though I manage to read all the other Austen books every year and which I don’t hate as much as I remember though Emma is still as big a snob, and anyway, all these other books are taking precedence.) I really should begin studying in earnest. Maybe with the new year. And, I’m seriously contemplating returning to university for my doctoral degree. I will begin the application process shortly after 4 January. I’m not looking forward to the extra expense, but grants and scholarships are usually a little more abundant for doctoral studies over graduate ones and maybe someday I’ll find a job that will pay off my loans for me after working there for a few years. Wouldn’t that be a blessing?

Money.
I have none.

Boyfriend.
I have one. (And only one. It’s somewhat novel.) I no longer really remember what used to bother me about the last man I dated. This new one, mmm, I’ll call him Mr. Rock Med (that’s where we met) doesn’t irritate like the other. That’s not to say that I don’t have frustrations, I’m certain he can say the same about me, but I’m not bothered like I was with the Other One (once known as New Guy). Except for that sex thing, of which I will refrain from writing for the time being, in keeping with the Victorian (ie sexless) idea of the holiday. Anyway, we’ve only been dating three-ish months. This one is also a reader like me. Unlike me, he doesn’t know classic movies (speaking of which I soooooo want to go to the TCM film festival in April. Soooooo want to go.) Also, I know I can watch a lot of television, but I do like the quiet and every time he comes over he wants to watch TV. It’s getting irksome.

NaNoWriMo.
I signed up and everything, but alas I failed. For those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about, NaNoWriMo = National Novel Writing Month which happens in November. I spent parts of August and September trying to develop an outline for a story, but I only got as far as a single sentence vague thesis. Then with my trip to the Happiest Place On Earth, I started out the month quite busy and connectionless (the wifi was broken at the hotel). Then, when I got home I concentrated on things like earning money, reading, thinking, and ‘socializing’. I do want to write a book, mostly because when I used to write all the time, I enjoyed it and had all these stories bubbling up from inside, but also there’s this strong desire to do as J. K. Rowling and Michael Crichton—write a best seller to make money and pay off my student loans. As for NaNoWriMo, there’s always next year.

Work.
Work is mostly good if a little frustrating. The wonderful news is that there has only been one death attributed to the H1N1 virus where I work, VMC. Also, the pediatric ward and PICU are running a bit slow with some very low censuses. The frustrating news is that it’s ever so boring at work. I hate boring at work. Makes the shift drag on forever, and unlike some hospitals, nursing staff aren’t canceled if they’re not needed, they float. Float to some other unit that is short staffed, for whatever reason. We all hate floating. I hate floating. Even on good days, floating away from one’s home unit sucks.

Also, there have been many, way too many, changes taking place at work. Now I’m all for safe practice and standardization, but some of the changes were CRAP. I can’t even give you a for instance because it still just pisses me off. And I’m not the only one who’s upset by all the busy-work, nonsensical, crap changes.

And then there’s some colleagues. Most of them are great. The ones who’ve been around a long time and who I’m afraid will retire someday soon. But there’s a few who can bring the tone of the work day down to a screeching, irritating halt. Two are blessedly out on disability/maternity leave. A third is taking a two week holiday, during Christmas, thank you very much. Now maybe in some industries going on holiday during this time is a given, but we work in a hospital and there are no ‘hours of operation’. The hospital stays open all the time and usually we’re very busy. And she was granted TWO WEEKS. Now I’m not necessarily pissed off because I’m just glad she’s gone for a while (she’s incredibly needy and monopolizes resources, and she brown-noses, all the freaking time), but there were many people who wanted a few extra days off for Christmas who had to work. Miss Pain in Our Collective Ass was informed that next year, no matter what the excuse, she’d have to work Christmas, but what she told some one privately (and I had just said this to myself before hearing aloud from a reliable source, thought ‘I wouldn’t put it past her to…’) is that she can’t work Christmas if she’s on maternity leave. (True, she’s newly married and all aflutter, but seriously, talk about brattiness. Bitch.)

Anyhow, we had two blessed weeks without her. And I am not the only one who has completely LOVED IT.

Veganism
So lately I’ve been calling myself ‘vegan lite’. I try most of the time to eat vegan, but going out and traveling vegan can be hard, even with friends who are supportive and helpful. So occasionally I would eat something with butter or cheese, or possibly something like a cake made with eggs. And sushi. But all that happened over the past 5-6 months. With my recent endeavors toward frugality, I’ve really been more adamant and successful with my veganism. Still it’s amazing how many people don’t know what ‘vegan’ means and wonder why I don’t eat cheese or fish. Grrr. Anyway, except for the occasional piece of candy, like my all time favorite, Reese’s peanut butter cup, that I’ll discover in my mouth even before I realize there’s candy in a dish, I’ve been moderately successful being animal free. I still wear leather that I bought before changing my ways, and that will continue until I become independently wealthy and can pay of all replacements.

In my endeavor to maintain my chosen lifestyle as a vegan I’m been investing time and energy into learning more about nutrition, finding satisfying and nutritious recipes, and reminding myself why I made the choice that I did. Toward that end, I recently purchased ‘the Kind Diet’ by Alicia Silverstone.

The Kind Diet
So I became a vegan Memorial Day 2007 after reading a book illustrating the horrendous treatment of animals by factory farms. In the past, I conveniently forgot about said treatment and thoroughly enjoyed a steak, rare. This time I chose to remember. But as I said, I’ve hit some bumps on my journey. Still, each meal is a new beginning and every morning I rejoice and eat my vegetables.

After reading ‘The Kind Diet’ I became just a little more impassioned. Without a guide or suggestions for meals, making the same things over again becomes quickly tiresome. Here now was something I could follow. I have many recipe books, many raw food books, which is yet harder, especially in cold weather and when one is without a Vitamix or a dehydrator.

In an effort to learn more about my chosen lifestyle, and I’ve already learned so much, but then there’s always room for improvement, I’ve been making some of the recipes. As a matter of fact, I intend to make all the recipes in this book, and others besides through out this next year. Like Julie and Julia, only it’s Josie instead. I’ve already made a few recipes, trying out new ingredients and new taste sensations. It’s all very delicious, but also very time consuming.

So I’ve found myself watching less television as I spend time in the kitchen. Of course, I’ve been contemplating doing without cable and dvr, though I will miss TCM and perhaps the SyFy channel and BBC America. All the PBS channels remain free of course. Anyway, more time in the kitchen, more time at the grocers and farmer’s markets buying fresh ingredients, and more time buying satisfied and happy with yummy food, and glowy skin, and shiny hair. Got to love that.

Anyway the Kind Diet and the Kind Life is about being kind not only to oneself and all other living creatures, but the Earth as well, which if you’ve seen ‘Avatar’, makes complete sense.

Well, that’s me up to date in 2000 words or less.

Hope you all had a Happy Christmas and hope you do have a Happy New Year!

Recap: Ode (or prose really) to a Golden Voyage of Sinbad

2009-09-29T20:48:00.000-07:00

This entry is actually an old one, but I am currently watching 'The 7th Voyage of Sinbad' (This is the movie where the snake woman strangles herself with her own tail! What larks!), the first ever of the Sinbad movies I have ever seen and I think still my favorite for just that reason. However, I still have a deep and abiding love for 'Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger' and of course 'The Golden Voyage of Sinbad'. It seems all three have a cyclops in it. Must be a favorite monster. So in honor of this movie, I've resurrected this blog entry from January 9, 2006. I hope you enjoy it.

Now I love all old stop action movies from the 50s, 60s and 70s. Jason and the Argonauts, Journey to the Center of the Earth, Mysterious Island, the Sinbad movies. Don't know which is my favorite. The 7th Voyage of Sinbad with the villain named Socorro (one must say this name with Spanish or middle Eastern accent) and the shrunken damsel in distress, with her aunt that gets turned into a giant snake that chokes itself with its own tail, or the one with the ever beautiful Patrick Wayne with the lovelies with the long hair (Jane Seymour & Taryn Powers, Tyrone Powers' daughter) and the baboon that plays chess. But I think my favorite Sinbad movie will have to be the Golden Voyage of Sinbad (I'm sure there's more than these three, and not including the animated movie with the voices of Brad Pitt, Michelle Pfeiffer and Cathy Jones) with the fabulous scene in the temple of Kali where the villain (played by the future, now past, Dr Who-Tom Baker) brings the statue of Kali to life and commands her to dance. And then she does. One foot and then the other. One set of arms and then the other. I musta been 10 when I saw this movie in a theater in Reno, one winter when my parents really wanted to go gambling, back in the day when parents could leave their children, safely and without worry, ALL DAY LONG, unattended, in the children's lounge. My sister, always insisting on choosing which seat in which row to sit, never let me choose, would sit behind me if I deigned to sit before her, and my aunt, 19 years old and our babysitter when mom and dad where gone all day, sat in the row behind me. Well, this time I was just too annoyed with them both so instead of petulantly changing my seat to one next to them, and never, ever did I get an aisle seat, I happily flounced to the exact middle (as far as I could tell) of the theater, sat my butt down in the center seat in the center row and watched our late matinee ENTHRALLED. The chick with the tattoo of an eye on her hand. The tiny alive gargoyle, I so wanted one. The villian that kept getting older with each bit of magic. The king with the iron mask. The duel in the water and the crown that Sinbad found. Wu-we. But before most of that, there was Kali's dance. 'Dance for me, ha ha ha.' One foot and then another. Then her arms. Ooh baby. When those arms started undulating, I couldn't help myself. Stood up right there in front of the whole theater and danced like Kali. She was too damn cool. Until the crowd started laughing. Looked back and there was Renee and Becky (sister and aunt, respectively) with their heads tucked into their shoulders. Ha. Served 'em right. However, I sat down quickly, embarrassed, but I was soon dancing like my girl again, feet and then arms, until she was heinously pushed over the edge, and feet of clay, she shattered on the floor beneath her. Very sad.

Anyway, I digress.

In each of these movies there is always a creature who my heart bleeds for cuz I'm soft hearted that way. The golden statue man in Jason & the Argonauts who essentially suffocates as the sand is loosed for his heel by that dastardly Jason. The baby bird, bigger than my apartment really, that was roasted for dinner in Mysterious Island. The cyclops (proponent of evil) that did battle with the griffin (proponent of good) in Golden Voyage. Imagine my fingers gripping my face as these two fought, egged on by their human counterparts. Oh, the humanity! The cyclops of course had to die, it being evil, but I'll always mourn, with much tears and moaning, a frown wrenching up my face, fingertips to lips, oh the horah, as the light of iniquity dimmed forever from its one huge brown eye.

Gone, but never forgotten.

Rock Med & Brad Paisley

2009-09-26T01:10:00.000-07:00

What a name, eh? Paisley!

So several years ago I met a man who became a friend. This man was an EMT (emergency medical technician) and after learning that I was an RN encouraged me to join him in the volunteering effort called Rock Med. After going with him to a Perfect Circle show at the Bill Graham (or as I continue to call it--the Civic) Auditorium in SF, I decided that I would indeed like to volunteer. I went to another show at the SJSU Event Center, but I never made it to orientation as I was planning to be in Europe on holiday. This happened at least once more. Then, when my friend again started to encourage me to join, I started grad school. So now four or five years later, I have finally managed to send in my application and go to a couple of shows, volunteering as an RN at venues all over the SF Bay Area. Essentially, we're a clinic working at rock (and other) shows giving free medical assistance, et al.

But mostly I get to see free shows.

So if you don't know Perfect Circle, they're...er...emo. Goth maybe. And goth/emo kids are kinda depressed and view the world through low hanging, lank forelocks as they tweak out. This is a universal phenomenon at all these types shows. At the Outside Lands Festival, my first official show as a bonafide volunteer, I learned that though there were the obligatory ETOH imbibers, there were actually as many hand and foot and leg lacerations, as told by our clients, from being 'pushed' against a barricade or falling down, but were in actuality from jumping the chain-link fence because they couldn't or wouldn't pay for tickets. They thought they had us fooled. Silly sods.

Anyway, after that particular show for which I volunteered two days and was able to enjoy Tom Jones, West Indian Girl, Incubus, and Jason Mraz (and Dave Matthews, but I've seen him before so I was ok to miss the show) all for FREE, where I got to be a nurse on occasion, I signed up to volunteer at a show closer to home, at the Shoreline Amphitheatre in Mountain View. This show was Brad Paisley.

Now I'm not a big country/western fan so I had no idea who he was. I googled him after signing up and have since then learned that many of my coworkers are big fans. Once I figured out he was a country music star, quite popular, and with a new romantic album out (all happy with his young, cute wife) I quickly decided that this show would be far more entertaining then that boring emo crowd of many years ago. I envisioned the Blues Brothers as the Good Ole Boys when they sang both types of music, country and western.

I was not disappointed. Most people were drunk. There were several who had been assaulted in some way, some from afar by flying glass beer bottles (which are prohibited at Shoreline) and some from nearby, but flying fleshy fists, or leather and steel encased boots. I got to start three IVs, my favorite thing, and gave two injections. So fun! Washed some glass shards from a woman's hair, cleaned out some lacerations, and watched as some of our patients improved by the end of the night (these were the patients who came to us plastered to the nth degree before the show started at 7.30 and stayed till long after it had ended, and everyone was going home at midnight) and walked away from our 'clinic/ER', almost sober. Very gratifying. And they were all so grateful for our help.

Though I'm not a fan I was hoping to catch a little of the show, see what Mr. Paisley is all about. But who knew country/western fans were so very serious in their celebrations?

Well, in summary, I had an awesome time. I love starting IVs! And on such big adult veins they practically smack you in the eye! Mmm, good times.

My Brother’s Keeper

2009-09-19T20:04:00.000-07:00

I don’t really need advice, but I’m going to put this out there in the hopes that I might learn something of others.

I am the youngest of four. Out of my family of origin, including my parents, I am the only one who finished college. My parents were manual laborers. My father a mechanic by trade, by default. My mother a housewife, before the days of ‘stay at home’ moms. She cleaned motel rooms and houses for people while I was in high school. Put me through private education. Mostly paid for my entire ten year tenure as an undergraduate from which I graduated debt-free.

So from my parents, and quite possibly from my mom’s mom and a few uncles on my father’s side, I learned, as did my eldest brother, the belief that we must work for those things we want and need, be it food, wealth, education, or even leisure. I learned that I can’t get something for nothing. I also learned to not want or trust what comes freely. Except perhaps love. And through it all I learned self-reliance and self-sufficiency.

Not so my two surviving siblings. They were trouble-makers from the get-go, unwilling to take responsibility for their actions or decisions. Of course, they’re older now and they’ve learned that consequences are always inevitable. They are also trying to teach their respective children from their own hard lessons.

Still, these two sibs continue to ask mom and dad for the occasional hand-out, what they call a loan and what my mom knows to be a gift. Now don’t mistake her, mom is not a soft touch, but both my brother and sister have young kids and mom won’t let those kids suffer because of poor decisions on my sibs’ parts. I understand from listening to them and observing them that they don’t like to ask for money. Shame perhaps. That work ethic learned from our parents coming through, but yet they ask when they’re in need. I don’t ask how dire a need; it's none of my business.

I have up to this time, been free of such requests, and that’s a good long stretch, but what do you when finally some beloved family member asks for money? Which happened via voicemail because I just can’t figure out what that interesting little trilling noise is until hours later.

Point is, I don’t want to not give my brother money, but nor do I want to set a precedent. What do you do and how do you do it when this happens to you?

This weekend past

2009-09-15T18:09:00.000-07:00

The Conference.
This past week I went to Boston for a conference sponsored by Harvard University and Boston’s Children’s Hospital. It was somewhat educational. Mostly it was expensive--$600, not including airfare and accommodation. There were no breaks, not even 10 minutes ones between speakers or subjects, no refreshments available after the ‘continental breakfast’ of dry carbs and mediocre coffee, and no soy milk. There was no soy milk. The only refreshment available was the jug of ice water placed at intervals along the tables in the conference rooms. No sodas, no juice, no continuously refilled carafes of coffee at a supposedly upscale hotel at a conference sponsored by Harvard and Boston Children’s. Disappointing to say the least.

However, I went with five colleagues who were all able to withstand my bossy ways and who accepted without questioning that when I travel I step down from my vegan pedestal to ‘vegan lite’ and eat the occasional cheese product or pastries made with eggs and butter. Also, in case y’all are unaware, oysters are plants. Kind of like a coconut or lychee, but these grow on rocks in the ocean. Tasty oyster plants. Same can be said of clams and mussels.

Anyway, I spent the weekend in Boston, a place I’ve never been and enjoyed myself immensely. I wish I could have spent the entire time touristing around, but then I probably wouldn’t be able to be reimbursed by work for travel and accommodation or write off some of my expenses come the Ides of April.

I loved the history and the beautiful architecture of the homes and the park/Boston Commons and the cemeteries. I probably wouldn’t mind living there, but I would probably change my mind after realizing that I couldn’t drive away from the snow when I got tired of it without actually leaving the state.

Cheese.
So up to a few years ago, I was a carnivore and I loved it. I loved meat and cheese. I mean, what a combination! But then I decided to become a vegan. Save the planet! Be kind to animals! Lactose intolerant! But travelling can be very challenging especially when stuck in a hotel without a kitchenette. We eat out everyday, of course, and I had things like bread and cheese for breakfast after months of getting used to plain fruit and fresh squeezed juice. So to not drive myself crazy or any of my companions I concede to be vegan lite while travelling. Did you know that cow’s milk cheese is practically a staple ingredient in many dishes? Yes, it is. And by the end of the weekend I was actually tired of eating it and deeply wished to return to my vegan ways.

I’ve eaten fruit and veg today. I feel so light and satisfied.

Hydration.
I’m a water drinker. I love water. I love the way it tastes and the way it glides down my throat and the way it refreshes me, internally, externally, spiritually, emotionally. It’s damn good. I generally drinks lots of water though the majority of my water drinking ways takes place at home where I have easy and free access to filtered water in glass glasses.

At work I drink less. First thing, JAHCO is healthcare’s answer to facsism. They are short dictators who have nothing better to do than enforce busy work and take delight in making work harder than it should be. Now one of their rules, which I don’t actually have a problem with though many people can’t seem to grasp, is that there can be ABSOLUTELY no eating or drinking in patient care and working areas. This means that after a few hours, because I don’t have easy and quick access to something to drink, I become dehydrated. Some times to the extent that I guzzle water from the time I get home at 430 pm till bedtime, and am sometimes quite cranky and light-headed.

I arranged with my colleagues to sit on the aisle seat during our flights back and forth, letting them know that I wouldn’t necessarily mind sit elsewhere as long as they were aware that I often get up to stretch my legs and use the facilities. It worked out fine. But as it turned out my functioning kidneys, and active, and possibly pea-sized, bladder became something of a running joke. We kept a tab on how many times each of us went to the lavatory. I was always the clear leader. Our first day in Boston was actually a free day, the conference scheduled for Saturday and Sunday, so four of us (another two showed up that night) went on a historic trolley ride. I always find these fascinating and enjoyable. As we were buying the tickets I had a very faint inkling of the need to tinkle. An hour and a half later, not having got off once though I saw many things I wished to investigate more closely, we got off the bus. The first words out of my mouth were, ‘if I don’t find a bathroom soon, I’m going to cry’. So we went off toward Faneuil Hall, a sort of indoor/outdoor market that was crammed full of people. I asked the first person I could find who worked there were the nearest bathroom was and was subsequently directed to a place half way through the market. I thanked him and sprinted off. I dodged. I ducked. I was like a moving target maneuvering around various old people with out sized sweaters, primped white curls, and orthopedic shoes, occasionally called out apologies. My friends lost track of me a few times but eventually caught up. Later one of them, entertaining the two late arrivals, explained that I practically trampled old ladies underfoot, spinning them about where they stood (they moved so slowly, it took everything in my power to not shove them to the sidewalk, I mean they moved so slowly, and often paused right in the middle of the walkway and did nothing but block my path!). She was so entertained by the story she told she had to wipe the tears from her eyes.

Home.
The plane took off 20 minutes early and arrived an hour before schedule. I went grocery shopping and then spent time with my cats before unpacking, cleaning up and relaxing. I slept well for the first time in weeks. I love home.

Random Man Rant.

2009-09-09T21:01:00.000-07:00

It’s been an interesting few months. Well, interesting to me, but nothing to write a book about. Which is kind of sad. Several months ago, while beginning to date New Man, I realized and accepted that Dr. Elusive, aka CL, is something of a grand passion, without really being so very grand. More like big or deep or tall or even slightly mind-boggling, because I know that I don’t love him more than I would a friend and yet I always want him. Always. I in no way want to marry him and I doubt if I’d want to introduce him to any of my friends as anything other than my friend, and just scrub over the benefits part too. But verily, there is no time when I do not want him. I’m not necessarily talking just sex either, which is the boggling part, though we are exceptionally compatible in that regard.

Anyway, though I may have come to this conclusion for myself, CL seems to have been too busy to catch that little epiphany, and unless my BFF’s conjecture is wrong, that he just made up this change in status (read FB ‘in a relationship’) to appear more beguiling to women, he’s embarked on a new relationship, which he hasn’t done since his divorce 5ish years ago, with some woman that neither of us have seen yet. Supposedly he was going to the Outside Lands Festival with her, but when I met him there for a brief moment, there was no one there that behaved like a girlfriend. Hmm.

While waiting and wondering about CL, I have continued to socialize. New Man. Young Guy. Old Ex.

Let me tell you about New Man.

We are not compatible. And I don’t think he knows this. Or maybe he does but he just wants more sex. Which means he doesn’t know. Because we’re not compatible. Now I’m not saying I haven’t had good times with him, but I’ve had better times with other men. And let me just emphasize that size always matters. Always matters. Size always matters. To believe otherwise would be admitting to profound naïveté. Also, why are some men so pointy? And I don’t mean their genitalia. Unyielding and pointy, tongues, lips, fingers? It’s not comfortable. And why, when I tell them exactly what to do in order to increase my pleasure, they work at for ONE WHOLE MINUTE, if that, before moving on to something else that really I could do completely without.

Back to New Man. Not compatible. Apparently, he’s a musician. Has a studio in his spare room. Five or ten guitars. Acoustic crap nailed to the walls. I know many musicians. I know many people who make a living in the music industry. None of them perpetually drum their fingers to the music playing on the radio. All the freaking time! Sets my teeth on edge. I used to try to take it as a Lucy & Ricky thing meeting Rock Hudson, but yeah…teeth are beginning to crack. He’s also something of a minimalist. Not actually a problem, the minimalist thing, but he goes on and on about how he needs to downsize his book library (but not his music library, which isn’t all on his computer) because he just can’t fathom carrying them around from home to home, books that he may never want to read again. Does he really move that often? Ok, so he just moved, but other than that? And is he so picky, so apathetic that he doesn’t read books more than once unless he essentially has some bookish orgasm? Of course, he continues to buy CDs. So he just downsizes books. Now I don’t have a problem with him having a love of music (except for the finger drumming thing) and a large music library, but books… Yeah, I just can’t respect his lack of love. Why I’m even considering maintaining a friendship with him is yet another mind-boggling thingy.

And also, and this is something that irritates me about many people in general, he has stated a few times that he could probably become a vegan, since he likes and eats a great deal of tofu (like that’s a number one criterion to being vegan!) except that he absolutely loves cheese. “Just can’t give it up.” Well I say…

…BULLSHIT!

That is such a weak argument! Anyone who really knows me knows that I was the ultimate carnivore! I loved meat! Perhaps I still do. I was called the mouse by my family because of my excessive love of cheese. France is one of my favorite places because they have a course just for cheese. How fabulous is that? So if that’s your excuse for not being able to give something up, it’s because you don’t want to give it up. So don’t give me that craptastic excuse that you just can’t give something up because you love it. If you don’t want to be a vegan, and many people don’t, I don’t give a crap, but be truthful about it for craps’ sake!

And last, before I move on, one evening over dinner (and I continue to see him without any loving because as a person he makes a good friend (maybe, this book thing is almost sick making), but as a man he is incompatible as both a boyfriend and a lover) he asked where I would live, where I would buy a house, if I so chose. I named a few neighborhoods and cities and he said he was surprised that I would want to live in such areas. Now what he said isn’t necessarily a bad thing and everyone makes assumptions. I definitely do, even when I try not to. But this assumption really pissed me off. How presumptuous! Thinking that because I like Throbbing Gristle and live in a characterful apartment that I wouldn’t like the ‘burbs. And really I get it that motorcycles are noisy and disruptive! Don’t need to go on and on about it. Or anything else for that matter. And stop apologizing for music I’ve listened to, like when I saw Lenny Kravitz, (‘oh I’m sorry’), because no one needs to be sorry. I'm not. I like Lenny, and Dave Matthews, and many others! Industrial and alternative is not the only thing I listen too! I’m eclectic that way! And he sells his books! He must own twenty! If that! How sorry is that?!

And while at dinner, he wouldn’t remove his hat. That’s just wrong. Said he was having a bad hair day. Couldn’t wash it till the next day and he needs to blow dry it after. So no books, drums his fingers, and high maintenance hair. Need I go on? He’s a man for craps’ sake! If I had known that he wouldn’t remove his hat while at dinner at an indoor restaurant, I would have eaten alone. That’s just all kinds of wrong.

My BFF, M, told me once long ago that quirks, personality traits, etc., don’t usually bother someone in love. May even be considered endearing by those besotted idiots. Well, I am definitely not in love. Never was. Ever. At least with New Man.

Then there was Young Guy. A brief cougar flirtation. I wonder if I’ll see him again.

Then there’s Old Ex. Completely incompatible. Still, we have a history and there’s no lull in our conversations, unlike New Man with whom I actually feel a loud silence developing even during our conversations. And I am exceptionally comfortable with silence in general. Old Ex is extremely Type A. I used to be extremely Type A, but really, I’ve mellowed. And even though I remain type A for myself , I try to be flexible with everyone else, random man rant notwithstanding. He says he’s mellowed too, but still there’s something a little too inflexible about him. And he’s highly allergic to cats, which just means that I get my bed to myself come bedtime.

I'll blog about other stuff soon.

Hawai'i, the big island

2009-07-18T00:08:00.000-07:00

Kona Brewing Company

Driving south along the west coat

Somewhere near Capt. Cook

a back sand beach

The Coffee Shack on Hwy 11

Kona white sand beach

Portland

2009-06-22T09:11:00.001-07:00

Dirty Sanchez

Gavin

Powell's

Suicide jumper over the Columbia

One of McMeneman's many pubs.

I like it.

Less Random, More Specific

2009-06-13T12:50:00.000-07:00

So those annoying sensations of adolescence have thankfully passed. I’d blame the waxing and waning of the moon, but it’s just not that time of the month right now. And besides, since I started eating more raw foods, I’ve noticed that the phases of my personal moon don’t affect me as they used.

Anyway I feel better. It helped that on Thursday, when I didn’t think we’d see each other; we ended up spending the entire night together. We meaning New Man and I. Seems one of those texts messages went askew causing that irritating lack of communication. We were just going to meet for drinks Thursday evening as he had plans later that night, but then his plans fell through and then, unfortunately, I had three manhattans. So, yeah, we stayed the night together because I was way too drunk to go anywhere and he played the gentleman and covered me up with a blanket and laughed away my concerns about remaining vertical (because horizontal spins uncontrollably). But the next morning we were able to greet each other with a certain level of enthusiasm, except for my lingering hangover.

The hangover would have been doable if I hadn’t had to stagger, literally, out of bed at the unholy hour of 9am, and get ready to go up to San Francisco with my nieces and nephew. (So just a quick flashback—I have worked all this week with little time after work to do anything. On Wednesday, my brother’s oldest girl graduated from high school so after making arrangements to leave work early, I speed walked to the Rose Garden, just up from where I live, sat in the sun for an hour and a half and then made hasty plans with various family to have dinner in celebration of Reggie’s big day. At dinner, I asked my brother’s kids if they wanted to come to SF with me on Friday, my one day off before returning to work for another four days in a row, and take in a museum or something and they were all quite pleased to go. I worked on Thursday and had vague plans to go home after work, quickly tune up my bike and go for a ride somewhere before spending a quiet evening at home doing laundry, but one of my colleagues asked if I were interested in taking a little refreshment at a local watering hole and of course I said yes because happy hour is just so happy. There we proceeded to have some tea, a la Long Island, when I received a text from New Man asking if I were free for dinner. After making dinner and drinks arrangements I zoomed home via bus 62, dressed in jeans and a low-cut V-neck black sumpin-sumpin and met NW at our friendly neighborhood bar where there was a whole crew of men that I’ve socialized with for about a decade. Now, I’ve never done anything but drink with these men, and perhaps just a little harmless flirting, but nothing more. Well, very recently, after not stopping at the bar for a few months—actually it was the night New Man and I met—I was notified by one of my friends that one of our mutual friends had just been served divorce papers, and that it had all the earmarks of being intensely acrimonious. So I text messaged this friend and since then he’s been sending my increasing flirtatious texts which I laugh off and take with a grain of salt though I know that he is actually being serious. So Thursday night was not as relaxing as I had vaguely planned and Friday was spent with my sobrinos in SF. And I was so very tired though the hangover was gone after the hydration set in. Was that quick enough?) Then because I was so very tired and hadn’t done any of those things I usually need to do to on my days off, I had intended to spend a leisurely evening at home with my cats and my laundry in preparation of going into work today and for the next three days, but then I got a call from Doctor Elusive.

Da-da-DA.

So. Okay, during that 24-ish hour period when I was wondering about New Man and concerned that I was feeling way too concerned after such a short time, I kept reminding myself that aside from his general company and the smooches, I felt very little romance with regards to him. We clicked in many ways, but really, as I reminded myself, I felt more attraction, physically, chemically, whatever with Doctor Elusive or Trainer Guy than with New Man. And perhaps more telling, even as we kissed—and stuff—my rational mind would compare and contrast New Man with various past lovers. Not a good sign. Because when I’m with CL, aka Doctor Elusive, I think of nothing else but him, if I manage to think at all.

So because he had been on my mind for a couple of weeks, as my mind persisted in comparing and contrasting, I really did want to see him. He invited me out to a movie, but when I asked what he wanted to see it was essentially porn starring me and him.

Well, let me tell you, that wasn’t gonna happen because I’m dating (though it’s not exclusive, at least not to me, dating generally isn’t) New Man. So I kidded myself that it would be a movie only. Boy, was I kidding myself. I was so incredibly tired from my day with the kids in the City that when I toddled into his house, I immediately fell into his arms, feeling very comfortable, very relaxed, and so very happy to be with my friend and intermittent lover.

We stayed in and watched TV. And then we stayed in. And then we watched TV. And the entire time I thought of nothing else but him. The entire time I thought of nothing else but him, when I thought at all.

And you know, one would think I would feel myself to be in a dilemma. But I don’t. There is no dilemma. I prefer CL. This I’ve known for many years. I like New Man, just not as much as I might. I’m certain that I will eventually break it off with him, but as I don’t feel as though there’s anything exclusive between us, I’m not necessarily worried. This might be frowned upon by some people, but there it is.

More random men

2009-06-10T12:20:00.000-07:00

Now don’t get me wrong. I like men. I like going out with men. I just don’t like dating them. You know, like Charlotte said, I’ve been dating for 20+ years now and I’m exhausted.

So I’ve been stepping out with a new man and though I was uncertain initially, I must say that I’m quite taken with him now. But I just have to know, do we all revert to teenagers when it comes to dating? Only thing that seems markedly different is the amount of ready cash, the availability of a reliable car, no curfew, and possibly some ‘skillz’. Otherwise, with ever increasing technology available, there is ever increasing technology with which not to communicate. Grrr, I say, grrr.

So now my equilibrium is whacked. I generally go through life being more or less carefree (given that I’m a pediatric nurse and I pay all my bills on time), I endeavor to take nothing personally (and about half the time, maybe more, I succeed), I laugh at everything (it’s all just so funny), and try to be flexible with life and the people I meet along the way (this is probably the most challenging, but I still manage a certain flexible aplomb). But even with mature, frank dialog and a lot of leaning into each other, et al., still cutting-edge technology has only paved the way, albeit in pretty green and gold wafers, to feelings of suckiness and insecurity.

I hate dating.

So I have to remind myself of certain truisms. Like, I wasn’t interested in him, at all, when I first clapped eyes (but he grew on me, ya know?). And that I was perfectly happy before that Sunday when we met. And that I’m a complete person all by myself.

That’s what’s killing me now because we only met a few weeks ago, and even last week I could’ve taken him or left him, but this week I just keep wondering when and/or if he’s gonna call. Should I invite him to dinner? My non-vegan man of the almost month? A movie? Hiking?

In other news…twelve years hard labor! Did you hear? Those two American journalists in North Korea? Twelve freaking years! Oi. I hope some negotiation is still going on. Can you imagine? It must suck to be them (and I mean that in the most empathic way possible). And what’s up with this weather? Mind you, I’m not complaining. I like the pleasantness of the mid-70s with chilly evenings, in June, but it’s worrying me that there’ll be some majorly unpleasant heatwave next month, and the month after, and the one after that, that will last a week or longer (I’ve been predicting climate change since I was ten.) and I don’t have central air-conditioning and I generally like it that way.

So back to me. Or should I do as Vince Vaugh kept telling Jon Favreau: wait as least three days before calling (because you know, I’m so money). But we’ve already talked, and seen ‘Up’, and went to BFD. And, oh joy of joys, I saw his place (he’s very neat) and kissed (quite compatible). So though I didn’t snoop for an hour or so, and I don’t really feel the need though I went on about it in another entry about the easiest way to get to know someone, really is to snoop around in his or her home (nothing illegal mind) and kiss as soon as possible (I’ve ended budding relationships after a horrible first kiss, it can be very telling), I feel quite satisfied.

Still. What’s up with this not calling thing? No text messages either. Well, that’s not quite true. We did TM briefly last night, but he’s already got plans for the week (work furlough) and as far as I can tell, none of those plans include me.

Grrr, I say, grrr.

Several hours later.
Well, I feel a little better, not quite so adolescent. We've communicated a little more. I've attended a family dinner and had two glasses of wine. I must soon go to bed for work tomorrow. I'm thinking of giving up my cable again. I liked not having a television to suck up all my time.

I'm feeling better. Still...one more kiss...

Clocks!

2009-06-04T20:58:00.000-07:00

Oh damn! I forgot and I took all these photos which I don't have time to download cuz I'm too tired cuz I went to a jewelry party tonight and socialized in person instead of staying at home and reading blogs.

Anyway, yes, Betsy, I'm watching the clock, at least earlier I was, but not from 6.30 to 8.45, waiting for things to pass so I can eat yummy food again.

Half way through

2009-06-03T16:51:00.000-07:00

So day five of ten on the detox and still not really hungry though I must say that I miss eating and my butt is tired of sitting on the toilet.

I was rereading the book to prepare myself for the end of the ten days only to realize that the fast continues on for a couple of more days as I slowly allow my body to get used to food again. Juice. Fresh squeezed orange juice on post-detox days 1 and 2. Juice. That's it. It just doesn't seem right though now I'm only taking lemonade. That's it, just lemonade. Unless you count the salt water that I drink in the AM to kindle my behind.

So two days of juice before I can have soup. I may have to cheat. I mean it's not like I have a whole lot of toxins build up. I've detoxed before. I don't smoke. I don't drink much caffeine. I'm having no headaches or other aches or issues from a lack of daily poisons (and I mean that in a somewhat affectionate tone).

What I'm doing now is gauzily dreaming of the yummy food I will eat when the time comes. Like my yummy cream of kale soup. Or any number of other yummy recipes that I've downloaded. And then of course the Vegetarian House in downtown or the vegetarian curry, hot, at my local watering hole. Mmm. Can't hardly wait.

Well, even if I don't have a great many toxins to rid myself of, I'm at least gaining a deeper appreciation for food and eating. Mmm.

Let the Detox begin

2009-05-31T12:44:00.000-07:00

Today is the first day of a liquid fast/cleanse/detox. This time I'm doing the 'Master Cleanse' and have slowly eaten most of the perishable food in the house. Now all I have is lemons. Over the past few days I've been eating less and mostly just raw foods. And except for last night when I was up later than I ought considering I was on call for the morning and was quite upset about the music (oh the freaking music!) and didn't actually ever fall asleep until after the 5am phone call telling me I wouldn't be needed for the day so I was exhausted and achy and nauseated this morning, I now feel fine if maybe a little hungry, but nothing that isn't easily tolerated or disregarded.

Anyway, I'm anticipating doing ten days. I mentioned this to a couple of friends on Wednesday when we had dinner at the Vegetarian House in downtown and they were shocked! Oh my god! Ten days? Isn't that dangerous? How will you get your nutrients?

What? Only Jesus and Mohammad are allowed to fast?

But really, this is a well documented fast/detox. Also, since becoming a vegan last year and deciding more recently to eat more raw foods, as well as more greens, I've had to teach myself about how the body works with regards to eating and nutrients, etc. Which is kind of funny considering I should have a working knowledge of all this as I'm a nurse. Heh.

So I have these three days at home to get started on this here cleanse before having to figure out what I need to do in order to continue on at work.

And while I do that, I'm going over the list of missing music... Still so very sad.

Also, I am going to try to get to everyone blog. I've been happily reading and doing other stuff since my computer had been running extremely slowly and was aggravating me no end. Of course, then I had all my music. Still so very sad.

Swizzle Stick

2009-05-30T18:47:00.000-07:00

Just stick one in my ear and give it a mad whirl. I had to reboot my laptop and though I spent all of last night backing up my music etc., it doesn't seem to be there. And I looked, trust me. But it's gone. About half of my music, gone. GONE! GONE!

I'm swearing. A lot.

Happy Anniversary to Me

2009-05-25T09:32:00.000-07:00

You ever wonder what makes people tick? How decisions are made? Conclusions drawn?

Anyway, last year I was half way through graduate school. I might even have finished the semester and began reading frenziedly before the start of summer session. That’s what I did: refrained from book shopping, ignored the more entertaining portions of the library, and stared at my own bookshelves with longing and possibly a little hunger. So in between classes I read. Many times I read favorites, something I could put down if I needed to, nothing too long that might extend into the restart of classes. For instance, for the almost two weeks between summer session and fall semester I managed to read the entire Harry Potter series.

Well, during the break between spring and summer 2008, I picked a new book, relatively thin. This book happened to be the reason the authors were on the Ellen DeGeneres Show which I was no longer able to watch because the channel it airs on won’t broad cast on digital television. Really. I was able to watch it with my aerial antenna, but absolutely nothing with the digital converter. I was very annoyed. Of course, now I have digital cable there are so many other things I can watch and no longer think of Ellen.

Anyway, the authors of this book were on the Ellen Show, but since I couldn’t watch it to hear what they had to say, and I was very curious about the book, I decided to go ahead and buy the book. I happened to read it over Memorial Day weekend and really it changed my life. I know that may sound a little lame and tritish, but it did.

The book was Skinny Bitch. It’s not a diet book or some chick lit. It’s basically a smack in the face concerning the food industry in the US. Well, without giving away any spoilers, after reading this book and suffering through some of the horror stories, I decided to become a vegan.

Now, when I was 14 or so, I had tried to become a vegan, because River Phoenix was one and I thought he was the bee’s knees. My mom was quite supportive, being a great lover of fruits and vegetables. Mom had always been very proactive regarding her health. As a young woman, her youngest sister was diagnosed with Type I diabetes and my mom had all her other siblings tested and changed the way they all ate. (Grandma was busy working two or three jobs so mom raised her sibs.) Then when my mom was diagnosed with hypertension, way back when I was a bitty thing, she reduced the families intake of salt, beef, etc. So I always ate more or less healthily.

Unfortunately, mom didn’t quite get the whole vegan thing. In her mind, vegetarians could still eat cheese and chicken and eggs. But I didn’t want to be a vegetarian; I wanted to be a vegan, like dreamy River Phoenix and his posse. Anyway, after about two weeks I went back to being an omnivore. And loved every minute of it.

But that changed on Memorial Day 2008.

Great day to become a vegan, right? When everyone in the entire United States was barbecuing vast amount of beef, chicken and various types of sausage? And yet that’s what I did.

I did take it in baby steps. I had some eggs and cheese in the refrigerator at the time of my decision so I became a lacto-ovo vegetarian. Then something like a vegan lite as I tried to figure out what was what. Because you know, white granulated table sugar is not vegan. And saccharine and sucralose are not healthy, really not healthy.

My friends tried to be supportive too. (Leslie even made me a vegan birthday cake this past April. It was da bomb.) But there would be those occasional times when cheese would be a heavy/main ingredient. Or someone would make me a cake, with eggs, and sugar. Or order crème brulee, my favorite dessert.

There’ve been occasional starts and stops, but really for someone who once said she could eat a platter of beef, and forget the potatoes, and be completely happy, I have not once felt like succumbing to the past delights of barbecued steak and chicken, glorious fatty bacon, carne asada, etc., etc., etc. Really. I don’t yearn for meat. As a matter of fact, over this past year, seeing meat in the grocers is a sure fire way to gross me out. I routinely avert my eyes, even from pictures.

Over the past year, I’ve learned to make many dishes. I’ve educated myself on nutrition, have bought many recipe books for vegan foods and raw foods (my new interest, oh yum! kale!) and have had to repeatedly explain where I get my protein. (That has to be one of the most despised questions of all time.)

Anyway, it’s been one year. One year tomorrow that I’ve changed the way I eat, the way I think of food. One year.

Itchy

2009-05-19T23:52:00.000-07:00

I'm so itchy. So very itchy. Oh my freaking lord, why am I so itchy? Oh gods! Make it go away.

Why? Why am I so freaking itchy? What are these welts? Why are they all over my arms and neck and back? I look like I've been severely splashed with red ink.

So very itchy. Why? Why? What did I eat or put on and why the hell isn't this Benadryl working? 75mg! I've taken 75mg and yet the itch hasn't gone away. I feel like I should be bathing in Calamine. I would bathe in it if I had it.

OMFL.

Insane. I'm going insane. That Benadryl should not only have taken the itch, it should have knocked me out. Why am I awake? Why do I itch?

Just poleax me now and put me out of my misery.

Oops-whay

2009-05-14T19:32:00.000-07:00

It's 7.30 in the evening. The sun is shining in through the dining room, my favorite time of day, when the light shines golden and adds softness and and depth to everything. There's a breeze, cool and soft, coming in through the windows. Lovely. It's been a beautiful day. All day the breeze and the soft glow of the sun. I just couldn't bring myself to sit before the computer and think up a blog entry. Just couldn't do it. But now finally, here it is.

Happy Theme Thursday (belatedly for some)!

Wind, the Musical

2009-05-06T20:00:00.000-07:00

I delayed writing up this entry until now and aside from thinking up a few topics concerning air and Santa Ana's and farting, I just couldn't put any of it into a semblance of a good time. I have been blowing my nose often of late if that counts.

So that I may go to bed now, this early Wednesday evening, I've fallen back yet again on YouTube, a virtual treasure of celluloid images.

Enjoy, and good night.

Wind...

and windy.

Happy Cinco de May-- Damn, I think I have the swine flu.

2009-05-05T20:11:00.000-07:00

I'm reading this book right now, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, and though I am not Dominican and had a fairly peaceful childhood, I can almost identify with Oscar. I mean, come on, he watched 'Robotech'. Ok, maybe identify is too strong a word, but there's this nerdy connection going on. Like memory lane it is.

Anyway, I'm reading this here book see, and in my mind I'm reading in dialect, but not New Jersey dialect, more like East San Jose, barrio 14 dialect. Even though I grew up in Milpitas and my mom wouldn't let us speak like chundados (or however it's spelled). So I've got this thing going on in my head, this Latin Pride thing, that's mostly there because I understand the language, the occasional Spanish word, the Spanglish phrases, but also because of the sci-fi references that causes me to mini-punch the air with a 'right on'.

So I'm feeling all Latiny, but at the same time, I'm very tired. I only had one day off from work and got up at 4.30am and worked, actually worked, at worked today. And it was muggy. Not the freshest feeling. So because it's Cinco de Mayo, instead of staying home and curling up on my couch with my cats and a cup of tea to nurse the very faint beginnings of a sore throat that I noticed while on the bus ride home, I went out to the Tequila Jardin to join a friend. Unfortunately, I think my sore throat is getting worse.

Now I'm not one to get sick that often. Since my first two years of pediatric nursing when I got sick often and for long periods, my immune system has gotten pretty strong. However, when I do get sick, I've learned to stay home till I'm better. Interestingly, I don't recall feeling fine in the morning, a slight sore throat in the atfernoon, followed by an undeniable and uncomfortable sore throat in the evening as my usual progression through illness.

I don't actually think I have swine flu, but it makes for some spontaneous jokes. Likely it's strept, as it always is when my throat and tonsils gang up on me. Fuckers.

But aside from all this, Happy Cinco de Mayo!

I've always liked water. It's so...fluid.

2009-04-30T00:08:00.000-07:00

The Who says we need water.

And of course, National Lampoon encourages us to drink water as well.

To Believe or Not Believe

2009-04-25T10:39:00.000-07:00

Question: Does anyone else totally believe in the Magic 8 Ball?

Because I find myself occasionally asking it something or other and depending on the answer it gives it can totally make my moment or devastate me. Sometimes I end by shaking it real hard and sticking my tongue at it. This morning I got a 'difficult to predict now', 'YES', 'reply hazy, ask again', and 'signs point to yes'. Gotta say I felt the answers were right on target, and that 'YES' will likely carry me through the day.

Which is silly, you know, cuz it's a toy. It's a toy! I know it has no basis is reality. I know I can't base my decisions on any of its plastic predictions. And yet, I'm always so happy when it affirms my hopes.

Fire!

2009-04-23T00:34:00.000-07:00

It burns.

Anyway, I almost forgot about this post, what with the unseasonable heat (and no a/c)—I had no appetite and essentially wilted on my couch, trying to read blogs but being too tired and too hot and too weak from heat, oh woe. Anyway, it’s way cooler now and while trying to read some blogs to catch up, I remembered about this here entry.

Fire! It burns.Aries—the first Fire sign. We are bossy and self-centered and not prone to guilt. That’s me all over. We’re also very loyal and passionate, fiery even. Aries is ruled by…

Mars—a red planet, much like the color of…fire!

Well, I’m out of imagination. Must go to bed soon. Only must say one last thing…Fire! It burns! So respect it cuz it’s a bitch and she will slap you down if you don’t watch out.

Request

2009-04-20T19:26:00.001-07:00

Ok, I have a request. Can you all just stop blogging for like a week? Because I'm trying to read them all, but you all just keep writing and now I'm really far behind! And I really want to read them all. And you just keep making more! And now I have a completely unrelated headache and it's really hot here.

Please, just pause the blog.

On Being, Books, and Socializing

2009-04-18T20:53:00.000-07:00

On being irritated and annoyed
Annoyed. Yes, I’m annoyed. Like, you know, grr-annoyed. And with me! Of all people! Amazing. And irritated.

Anyway, lemme elucidate.

Every once in a while I meet someone who attracts me as a friend. That’s all I feel for him—friendship. And I tell him so in no uncertain terms. And he, whoever he is, will say something like, ‘ok, so you don’t want to date, but we can be friends, right?’ and I’ll say, ‘yes, of course’ and we’ll go along our merry way until he tries to french me during our hug goodnight or perhaps feel me up in the car. I mean, dude! Because ‘no uncertain terms’ actually includes ‘no sex’ and ‘no kissing’ and ‘no heavy petting’, etc.

There have been times when this strange confusion continued despite my rather calmly and clearly stated intentions: friends only, no benefits. And he’d finally stop calling and then the next time I’d see him, not too long a time later, he’d be head over heels in love with some other, possibly more suitable, woman, and happily married.

No exaggeration.

So see, I’d say to myself, or to him, silently, I told you I wasn’t the one for you. See?

On dating, snooping, and kissing
But still, I do occasionally date though I’d prefer to cut to the chase and just snoop around in his home for an hour and kiss him very early in the relationship just to see if kissing is compatible cuz, let’s face it, there’s some strange people out there that can be more easily found out by snooping and kissing. I think there even might be some of this wisdom spelled out in a few episodes of ‘Sex & the City’.

As I was saying, I do occasionally date. Even signed up for internet stuff. But after the honeymoon phase of voyeuristic internet ogling was over, about a month or more ago, I just no longer remember to check-in.

And of course, there are those that are a little closer to hand and whom I don’t have to date or snoop around on and whose kisses are quite compatible. But gosh darn, many times they are as busy as I am and we end up at cross-purposes. Like CL, aka Doctor Elusive.

On being on vacation and dream jobs
But let me digress a little. A few peeps have asked about my recent vacation. It was AWESOME! (I am actually in that crowd, upper right corner.) John Mayer rocks! You know, I want more. I want more vacation. Or a job that pays me to travel to far off lands and allows me to do the tourist thing for several days before coming home to the daily grind. You know?

Anyhow, the cruise was awesome and chock full of Mayer fanatics. I tanned, finally, after years of staying in the shade cuz I freckle on my dad’s side (that would be the right lateral and left posterior) and have no intention of getting skin tags or skin cancer. The freckles across my nose came out quite becomingly on the cruise, but otherwise they are not as cute as they used to be in my childhood, looking a little blotchy and pre-cancerous. Dammit. Saw lots of new bands and such and got totally wasted at Cabo Wabo. On the drive home, my iPod seemed to know what M and I wanted and just kept playing Mayer after Mayer after Mayer. It was a little eerie. M and I also spent our time on I-5 inventing tales of the suicidal bugs and their possible last thoughts before contact with my windshield. It was quite the mass grave.

A friend we met while snorkeling who had a little too much tequila and the 'Windshield of Carnage' which is not as terrifying here as it was in real life. Poor lost souls.

On friends and lovers
Anyway, I went on this here vacation cruise (MayerCraft baby!) with my best friend M who is, btw, kind of a lesbian. She wasn’t always a lesbabe, having been married to the Ultimate Loser for ten years, and she is currently dating a man, but she continues to have her dalliances with the female persuasion. I call her ‘a people person’. CL was supposed to be our third, but he flaked at the last minute.

CL has been dropping subtle hints, for almost as long as we’ve known him, as well as pleading a great deal less subtly, especially since M went to the dark side (her words) for a little threesome, which M and I assure him will NEVER happen. Cuz that’s not how she and I roll. Well, he continues to have these occasional fantasies, bless him, poor misguided man-child. However, M and I encouraged him to take heart, saying that there was more than likely going to be a great many beautiful women with whom he could ‘befriend’ on our cruise. But when he flaked we decided to torture him with text messages filled with innuendo and pics taken out of context. It killed him because, you know, what happens in MayerCraft, stays in MayerCraft. Mwahahaha.

On Doctor Elusive
Back to my story. CL is divorced (and I take exception to the fact that there’s no masculine for ‘divorcee’) and even though he’s refused to explain why he and his ex split up, saying something lame and vague like ‘we just drifted apart’, me and M have conjectured. Let’s see: he was unfaithful (we know for sure certain that he had at least one mistress during his marriage); he spent (and continues to spend) most of his waking life working (60-80 hours a week, and he was in his residency during the first 3 years of their marriage) and socializing, not necessarily with his wife; he’s a player and a flirt even when he isn’t being unfaithful.

A couple of years ago…no, let me go further back. Ten-ish years ago, CL and I met, but as he was married, and I try to respect marriage, if not the marrieds, I went no further. Instead, we did the odd furtive glance full of appreciation and a little lust. After about five years, at a party at Stanford, we met up socially. He tells me he’s getting a divorce. He tells me that he’s always been attracted to me. He wines me; he dines me; we swing dance; he asks if he can ask me out on a date. I say yes. Six months later, a similar scenario happens. As a matter of fact it continues to happen very few months. He has actually asked me out all of twice. We’ve made it on a date only once. While out on this date (and mind you, we’ve ‘kept company’ before and since then), he stated that he wanted to date me (as in recurrently and consistently), not just, er, socialize privately with me. I was a little taken aback, but I said ok. He never actually followed through with asking me on another date or making any plans. That was two years ago. December 2007. He hasn’t tried asking me again, but we still ‘socialize’ and he still intimates.

M and I have come to the conclusion that CL shouldn’t date. Not me, not other women. He’s just not boyfriend material. He’s not husband material. And he just doesn’t get it. As prospects go, he prime marriage real estate. He makes BANK. He travels all over. He’s a pediatrician (so he loves kids). He’s head of his department at Packard. He owns his home and drives a beautiful Porsche. Really beautiful. Really. But really, the man is a well-read, well-educated car salesman with an honorary degree in small talk. He flirts with every woman he meets. Every woman. Without exception. He may say he wants to settle down, but that just doesn’t seem likely, and I don’t think he’ll find his bliss till he comes to some sort of realization.

So, as things go, with just socializing, everything is grand. I really enjoy socializing. But when he starts intimating that he wants more, which he’s been doing occasionally since the beginning of the year, I start feeling a little startled.

On being irritated and annoyed, still
Which is where the annoyance and irritation comes in. Because I don’t want to get married. I don’t want to date. I’m fairly certain that I don’t want a boyfriend. And I don’t want to become romantically (and one should also read, monogamously) entwined with CL, because however I am when I’m single, I’m truly and happily monogamous when I’m not. And what I’ve learned of CL in the ten-ish years I’ve known him is that he’s not monogamous, he’ll treat me like his girlfriend when it’s convenient to him (and not because he’s being selfish and self-centered and mean, at least not intentionally, he's just being himself) and that I would spend the majority of our relationship alone, waiting for him to 1) return from a consultation job in Africa or the Middle East or Central America, etc., 2) get off work after a long weekend at the hospital (and we already work opposite weekends), or 3) get back after a night out with the boys, and/or other friends, and possibly family, as his other dates and girlfriends have learned, to their irritation and chagrin, is their lot when dating such otherwise choice real estate.

And that’s why I’m annoyed and irritated, with myself. Annoyed and irritated that he’s going off to Dubai and some very small, almost unmapped country, for two weeks (and that's another thing, I’m envious) and I’m starting to miss him.

I don’t want to miss him.
I don’t want to date him.
I just want to socialize with him and go on with my life.

On The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Because that’s who he is: he’s Tomas. Which would make me Tereza. Gah!

I recently, very recently, read this book for the first time. I’ve been interested in reading it since I heard about the movie way back in the late 80s and even had the book in my hands once. You remember that guy Meg, who shared an apartment with Sean? What was his name? Mike? Had horrible migraines (actually ended up being a couple of tumors after the removal of which he no longer had a job as he was disabled and kept loosing his balance). Remember him? Anyway, one day, hanging out at Sean’s, we went into Mike’s room briefly for some reason, probably because he was cute and older and hence cool, and we were 19, his girlfriend’s name was Ashley I think, and he was reading this book. So I picked it up and started reading. The first line of this story mentions Nietschze. Now at 19, I was not well read enough, intelligent enough, or pretentious enough to understand what Nietschze was all about. So I put the book down. Twenty years later, I get it. Sort of.

Really, I figure that even though I don’t know Nietzsche’s philosophy very well, or even at all, I finally have the life experience, education, and philosophical bend to muddle my way through an eternal return, or not.

Well, though it’s now a favorite book, I still didn’t throw it down, shouting, ‘Yes! Of course!’ It was more like, ‘what?’ I wikipedia’d it, that is the meaning behind the title, and it all fell into place. Yes, I get it. And I get why Tomas is the way he is, if he believes himself to be light, because his actions have no meaning in the grand scheme, so why should he be bothered to do anything that doesn’t give pleasure in the now, even if such actions give pain to the one person he realizes that he loves, right?

God, I wish I were in a book club.

Anyway, that’s CL. At least, that’s the way he seems since he and I don’t necessarily have deeply thought provoking discussions (generally peters off into jokes, work, or socializing), and of course he’s half way across the world in business class right now so I can’t ask him right this instant (but I think will ask him next time we get together). He’s not a player because he’s searching for true love; he’s a player because he’s searching for the woman in all women. At least, that's my feeling. You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was a Scorpio.

Here's a funny song, mentions Scorpios. Of course, it's funnier without the parental filter.

And here's another song cuz my friend put it on her Facebook and I thought it was just too damn funny.

On addenduming many hours later
Anyhow, that was my irritation and annoyance from earlier today. I'm better now except that I can't talk with CL about any of this for two plus weeks and who knows what may happen then because socializing is always so very entertaining and as he said once, I'm like a man when it comes to getting up and going when social activities are done. But as I mentioned, I'm busy. And so is he.

Resussa Baby

2009-04-17T19:44:00.001-07:00

My day at work yesterday.

Sempervirens

2009-04-16T00:49:00.000-07:00

I've had a dickens of a time trying to decide how to flesh out this entry with Earth Day coming and all manner of themes and photos available. I used to wonder what they called the soil of say Mars or Jupiter. Is it referred to as earth? Or perhaps a handful of jupiter? A patch of mars?

I still don't know how to progress. I've no garden. I try my best to be 'green'. I became vegan for just such an endeavor, as well as in protest against the inhumane treatment of animals for food (driven home afresh after the intensely odoriferous drive up and down certain parts of I-5 during vacation week). I'd like to do more for the Earth. So many possibilities. I'm sure you already know many ways, many organizations, many websites. But here is one, one I only found out about little over a year ago after friends made a donation on behalf of my brother. Give money, plant a tree. Takes minimal effort on one's part, only a little money. One helps the Earth and gets a keepsake in return. A very sweet keepsake from very fine friends. And just a little back to the land that supports us.

Happy Easter!

2009-04-12T00:29:00.000-07:00

Wicked

2009-04-10T21:18:00.000-07:00

Now I don't want to give away anything to those who don't know this story so let me just say, "Awesome!"

My girlies and I went out on Wednesday to see this in honor of my most recent birthday and it was so good. I read the book in the late 90s and really enjoyed it. When I heard that it was turned into a musical, I thought, 'Are we talking about the same story?'

But no, I didn't hear wrong. It was a musical. And it's fabulous. Go see it. It's very funny and has some very catchy tunes.

Of course, now I must reread the book. Which I might just do sometime this month... Hmm.

Yes, go see it. You'll be entertained and happy.

Mini Work Rant (rated R for strong language)

2009-04-10T17:40:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers, let me just clarify that my use of the word 'you' in the following blog is a general, not at all personal, 'you'. Please do not be offended, this is after all a rant.

Thank you.

Ok, I’m not saying that what I do is all fresh baby bottoms and sunshine. I do work in a trauma hospital. I do work in a pediatric critical care unit. I see some bad shit. Bad shit. Really bad shit. Sad, completely preventable, bad shit. So I completely understand needing the occasional personal day after such bad, sad shit episodes. I do. I’ve gone straight to my old watering hole and two-fisted it once after my patient died. I’ve sobbed in bathrooms. I’ve covered my eyes and looked away. I've sat home alone, catatonic. Bad, sad, horrendous, messy, bloody, terrifying shit. Really, I get being sad and frightened and very wary of work.

But, really, if you as a critical care nurse, can’t get the fuck over it after two freaking weeks, you need to reassess your ability and desire to remain in critical care. You were not the only one involved in that patient’s care and we’ve all managed to put it aside and continue on with our lives and our work.

So do everyone at work a favor, because staffing issues are getting old, and get the fuck over it.

The Good, the Bad and the Eggy

2009-04-09T09:00:00.000-07:00

I've been wondering what to do with this post other than show you a poor little unborn orphan. So I thought, an egg is a type of seed, yes? Years ago, during my undergraduate days my art teacher instructed us to find a seed pod and reconstruct it using clay. It was a very interesting exercise. One of my classmates made a womb, complete with the many layers, fetal head resting closely to the cervical opening. I liked it.

Occasionally, I work in the post-partum unit. Not my favorite. Really. Aside from the cute newborns, there's all that...lochia. Not pleasant. Many times while taking care of these newborns I wish them a happy birthday (I know they're still shocked from the whole birth experience and are trying to forget the trauma, but still, it's nice to hear the words, don't you think?) and then marvel at them for they are a bundle of potential.

Really, what potential! Why they can be anything! Do anything! They're amazing. And they only weigh between 3000-4000 grams, if the mom's lucky. What cuties!

I also occasionally work with post-surgical patients who've had brain surgery for some reason. Sometimes a TBI (traumatic brain injury) from car accidents, car surfing, ATV'ing (just don't, ok, don't do any of it, and for god's sake wear a helmet) or the occasional and very sad and provoking non-accidental trauma, or the presence of a tumor. Whichever it may be, let me tell you, that pink wriggling mass you see pictures of on the Internet, even if they are human, are not what I get to see in the medical record (cuz I'm not an OR nurse and I don't watch in action).The brain is ugly. It's gray and it's ugly. I repeat, it's gray and it's ugly.

But to my point. Much like that germinated seed manifested as a cute newborn baby, the brain is full of potential. Really, as ugly as it is, it's quite magnificent.

Then I thought, why think so small about eggs, so full of potential, so magnificent? Why not the whole world? It is full of potential though I'm not sure who the poultry parents are. By then my mind starting stretching all out of proportion and I got a little nauseous. So I decided to just stick with regular eggs.

First, Prissy. Prissy was the first to come to mind. She is a little irritating, but lord bless her, she just wants her child back.

And then of course, one must not forget the most fashionable of bad eggs herself. Veruca always reminds me of my sister, but mostly I think for the dress as there's a photo somewhere of Renee wearing something similar. And of course, she went through a bad egg phase. At least I hope she's done going through it.

Unfortunately, the best line of that little scenario is cut off.

Lastly, there's the story of one woman and an egg.

Much easier just focusing on eggs.

Birthstone

2009-03-26T00:00:00.000-07:00

OK, real quick like.

DIAMONDS. They're minerals. And they're so shiny. And versatile. Jewelry, teeth, what-all.

PS-I won't be responding this week, at least not till much later as I'm taking a vacation. Later!

The Daughter of Time

2009-03-22T18:00:00.000-07:00

Okey dokey, lemme just say that if it weren't for Wikipedia I would have absolutely no idea what the meaning of this book title was all about. I spent the entire 200+ pages wondering who and what would be the Daughter of Time. Well, thank you Wikipedia. Now I know.

Anyway, I bought this book recently from the left over gift card I had for Barnes & Nobel because you know I was running out of books to read, what with only 45ish books left unread on my shelves. I was going into a panic. The title caught my attention. And then the cover art. And then the author's first name. Cool name. I like it.

Anyhoo. I've never read anything by this author, including her other pseudonym Somebody Daviot, but I really enjoyed it. All about a Scotland Yard detective laid up in the hospital who whiles away his time with academic investigation. I'm also now interested in reading more books by the author Elizabeth Macintosh (who was Josephine Tey and Whosit Daviot).

Made me want to read English history so I could judge for myself the true character of Richard III. I like the idea of him being a good guy. Would restore my lack of faith in the veracity of history books in general. I love history.

The Jabberwocky

2009-03-20T19:23:00.000-07:00

This morning I traipsed to work and began my day in a cloud of self-imposed whimsy. I like whimsy. I was glad. You know, glad. Glad like Pollyanna. I was my own little glad town.

Anyway, a few facts about myself. I am a nurse. I am a pediatric nurse. I am a sedation nurse. I like old movies. I like cartoons. I saw Disney's version of 'Alice in Wonderland' when I was a child. I read both Alice books and 'The Hunting of the Snarf in Eight Agonies' and enjoyed every minute of it. I remember the Jabberwocky. I especially remember the melody in which the Cheshire Cat sang a part of it. I always thought it a pleasant tune.

So, at work in the sedation unit this morning one of my patients had the last name 'Brilij' or maybe it was Brijil. Anyway, without noticing why or when or started humming the Jabberwocky. It kept my mimsy whimsy going. I liked it.

It's still going.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Rhubarb

2009-03-19T05:45:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a busy tiring week and I've only been to work twice having had a three day weekend. Past two days I have gotten up at 5am, gotten ready for work, washed any leftover dishes, made morning smoothies, washed a load of laundry, packed my meals for worked, and walked to work with twenty minutes to spare when I got there. So I've been tired at night. And, of course, Tuesday night was spent drinking vodka with friends.

Anyway, this morning, after going to bed last night at 8pm and still sleeping restlessly, having dressed for work, I received a call from nursing supervisor asking if I'd like the day off as the hospital was over-staffed. Well, okey dokey. So here I am, working on my Theme Thursday entry.

Rhubarb.
As I don't feel like expounding on all it's stellar qualities, there's the link. It's great. And makes everything a pretty pink, much like the very pretty color of red beets in soup. So pretty.

I've never eaten it till recently though I've heard about from all those baking magazines my mom used to get. Like 'rhubarb and strawberry pie'. Couple of weeks ago though I found some fresh frozen rhubarb which intrigued me. I bought a package. Then one afternoon, home from work and tired, I made myself a smoothie of strawberries and rhubarb with a little cashew milk. Mmmmm, tasty.

The photo doesn't do it justice. I blame the camera.

Here's a picture of rhubarb that would have fit in with both this week's theme and last week's. Rhubarb is the cat. Nice movie.

Addendum, one hour later. If you make the smoothie, you may need to add sweetener of some sort. I used raw agave nectar to taste.

The Animal

2009-03-12T01:26:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid I watched a great many old movies. I have many favorites. One of them is 'Harvey'. I've always wanted a Pooka for a friend. But alas, I didn't. I didn't even have an imaginary friend though I did have a made up one. I named her Dorothy. As in Dorothy Gale, traveler and wearer of the Ruby Slippers. But I knew she wasn't real, in any way. I just believed that everyone had imaginary friends, so I imagined an imaginary one. However, I found her very dull. I preferred her imaginary dog, but as I had a real dog, I didn't play very often with ToTo.

Instead, I had Norway. Ah, Norway. Beautiful land! And the fjords! Stunning! One day I plan to go there.

Anyway, one of my other favorite movies of yore is 'The Vikings'. Tony Curtis, Janet Leigh, Kirk Douglas, and Ernest Borgnine. Valkyries, hags with runes, lusty wenches offering mead, Ragnar jumping into a pit of hungry wolves. What's not to love? That movie is a good time from beginning to end. I sooo wanted to be a princess being rowed to safety by a blue-eyed man named Erik. Or even have my braids cut off by thrown axes to prove my fidelity. Ahh, good times.

As I was saying, instead of imaginary friends, or made-up imaginary friends, and their dogs, I had Norway. I had the entire Norse countryside, complete with fjords, trained falcons, buxom lasses, and Ernest Borgnine. And I had it all under my bed. Oh, no. No monsters under my bed. I had vikings and longboats and Odin's daughters, and Grendel. (Which I guess can be classified as a monster under my bed, but really, Grendel was just fluff.) The men of my Viking village would sail off along the fjords and return through fog drenched seas to their verdant homeland, welcomed by wives and lovers who would roast wild boar and serve mead and ale. Dogs, owls, falcons, carnivorous crabs. All had a place in my make-believe world, under my bed. Bears, boars, deer, rabbits. All hunted by my Norsemen for food and fuel and clothing. Even myself. Why I was the most sought after of them all. Grendel was small potatoes compared to me. He was just some smelly biped. I, on the other had, I was valuable. My existence ensured the continued prosperity of all things that lived under my bed. I was hunted, often. Tiny spears thrown at my feet and ankles in the hopes of hitting some mark, some small tidbit that could be roasted the over the coals. My flesh was savoury and hardy. Like an Incan superfood. They would make pudding from my blood. My hide would wear for years, cool in summer, warm in winter, and so supple and light. I'm telling you, I was da bomb, Miss Thang, It. One couldn't get any better than me. And I was such wily prey! Jumping into bed from a foot away, after all their plans and stalkings! Oh my!

Of course, I almost never saw my fierce bearded tribe. They were very cunning themselves. There was a formula, you see, for seeing them.

Once abed, and having been very still for a long while, perhaps even sleeping, very quietly, I would need to turn around until my head was at the foot of the bed, and very quietly, pull up all the bedclothes, and then, very quietly, drop my head over the edge until it rested on the floor. Then and only then would the commingled fog and smoke drift apart, much like the unveiling of Brigadoon, and I would be able to see my Norse countryside in all its glory, complete with mountain caves, Viking longboats, Ernest Borgnine and Odin. A stunning sight, truly. These were my people and I was the Sacred Animal, sacrificed for Odin, bringing plentiful to all the land. Unfortunately, it was very difficult to be very quiet throughout the entire exercise. Very unfortunate.

It's no wonder I found Dorothy boring.

For Megan

2009-03-08T17:28:00.000-07:00

Long ago, in a seemingly different life, I went to high school where only girls were allowed. We were a close bunch. Not necessarily best friends, each and every one, but somehow close nonetheless. Out of the 86 graduating students, I was part of a 'gang' of ten. I felt closer to some of those ten, and less close with others. Now, almost 22 years later, I only remember nine of us.

Three, of course, I continue to have a relationship with. BFFs before ever such an inane acronym came into being. Another I lost track of for several years though there was never a time when I didn't wonder about her. Now, luckily, we have been reunited to some degree.

One day, during junior year, I was sitting on the floor of the junior class corridor, under the windows, where we usually sat when the weather was inclement, reading a book. The book was written by David Eddings, the first of several books of his that I would read over a life time. While sitting and reading, my friend noticed the book and exclaimed that it was one of her favorites. Suddenly, though we had been friends for the two previous years, I felt closer to her because we liked the same books, the same kind of stories. A mutual love of books and reading.

I learned after that that there were others of the gang with whom I shared this fascination, but none could compare to the first BFF who declared that science-fiction/fantasy was a genre worthy of deepest respect and loyalty. Knowing that she loved to read fed my own love to read. It was mutually beneficial.

And then one day, on my birthday I think, I received a card from friends, perhaps a birthday card, and one of the inscriptions said something like this: 'Happy birthday, Jo! Remember me years from now when you become a famous sci-fi authoress!'

A light went on. And then I knew, that whatever I may do or become in the intervening years, one day I would write a book in just such a genre because my friend, even if she meant it as just friendly banter, thought I could become a famous authoress. However, I must say that I'm still working on it, other bits of life having taken precedence.

Anyway, though I had tried half-heartedly to write before this birthday wish, it had never occurred to me to take writing seriously. If not for this friend I would perhaps have never thought of writing anything beyond childish diary entries of mundanities, would never have ventured to short stories, long stories, blogs. Who know? Though I continue to write--stories, blogs, letters, occasional poems, random, not-quite haikus--for my own sake, for my own love, it is because of her I first thought seriously of doing so, as something meaningful and fulfilling.

I write because she mentioned it.

Insane, right?

And yet it is so.

This blog post is dedicated to her.

Spring Forward

2009-03-07T17:52:00.000-08:00

Remember all you people. Spring ahead! Spring ahead!

Friendship Rings

2009-03-05T05:23:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, I used to go vacationing every year. I usually went in mid-Spring and managed to do so relatively cheaply but still take two weeks vacation. Since grad school, my vacations have been very short, very cheap, and very infrequent. But once upon a time, I used to go on vacation.

One year I went to France and as souvenirs for my friends, I bought underpants from a shop on the Champs-Elysee. In 2007, I went to Italy and bought some glass pendants that matched these here rings. These rings I bought at a little shop in Barcelona, not far from Park Güell.

The rings are made of glass with bits of color swirled in. Like the mosaics of San Marco's Basilica. These gifts I bring back for my three friends from high school with whom I still share a deep affection. We attempt, and usually succeed, in getting together at least once a quarter, for our birthdays, and sometimes just because. Many times it's just dinner. Sometimes it's an exceedingly expensive dinner wherein copious amounts of wine and champagne are consumed. Sometimes all we want is a simple dinner and light refreshment. Sometimes we go to the cinema. Sometimes we go to the symphony. In April we're going to the theatre to see 'Wicked'. On this occasion, it's for my birthday. Sometimes we take a weekend together, in San Francisco, or once in Parajo Dunes at a timeshare. That particular weekend we evened our tans with a visit to a nude beach (Oh My Eyes!) and where Suz got stoned for the first time ever in her life (ah, good times). In October we're going to New York (to celebrate a milestone birthday).

In the above photo, we were celebrating Leslie's birthday. We ate dinner at a quiet Italian restaurant in Palo Alto. Then we headed up to SF for a little bar hopping and nightclubbing. We always endeavor to wear these rings when we go out together. Susie almost always remember, as do I, though I usually spend some time lamenting the fact that I have so many pretty rings, but never wear them when out with my girls. And Les and Jen remember about 50/50. Well, this night we all remembered. Our friendship rings. Made of glass.

Clockwise from the right, Jennifer's hand, Leslie's hand, Susie's hand, my hand.

What are you grateful for?

2009-03-02T17:33:00.001-08:00

Yesterday I finished my day with a massaged kale salad with arame and some home made dressing made with all raw ingredients. And since I had used a larger dose of cayenne that the recipe called for, it was quite spicy and hot. Warmed me right up so I didn't have to worry about the pouring rain, the temperature in the 50s, and the insane wind that was tossing the trees around like they were tumbleweeds. I also made a smoothie of mango, peach, pineapple, and strawberries. I used a margarita glass to make it extra pretty.

Today I wen to lunch with a friend for Oklahoma. She and I became acquainted during our 360! days on Yahoo. Karen is vegetarian by reason of her general dislike for meat. She's also something of a hippie and was all for trying something new. I have wanted to go up to SF for a month now. Since graduating, I've had no reason to drive up for business and my pleasure usually includes friends from the South Bay who has their own ideas of what to eat and do. But today, Karen was happy to let me lead the way.

So we drove up to SF, through thick sheets of rain, which miraculously cleared up once we got to the Mission district. That's where Cafe Gratitude is located. We decided to share a sampler platter, called 'I am Abundant', since decisions were too difficult. Don't ask what was on it, as I can't remember. But it was all so yummy. We also ordered a larger bowl of soup and healthy drinks to go along with it all. And to finish, dessert. The healthy, guilt-free, yummiummy kind-'I am cherished' (an extremely freshly made 'cheese' cake that tasted like oreos) and 'I am awakening' (a very delish key lime pie).

All raw, all vegan. Detox going strong!

Afterward, Karen and I walked about a bit and took more pics. Here's a nice one.

Now some people have asked me where I'm getting my information. I have a few books on raw food and then there's the Raw Divas which was very helpful. I feel great and not over stuffed or lethargic. And, hmm, I'm hungry.

Detox Day 1.5

2009-03-01T10:44:00.000-08:00

This tasty treat was much prettier in real life, but I already started to nosh on it before thinking about getting out my camera phone. This is some sort of spicy squash thingy with jicama couscous and pumpkin seeds. OMG, it was good. And it fits right into my raw food detox.

Today being Sunday, and my day off from work (I work every other weekend), I headed over to the Farmer's Market in Downtown Campbell. It's my favorite market in the South Bay. I haven't been there in about a month due to laziness. But as part of my detox, I got out of bed, did some yoga and then headed out. Nice soft morning with just an occasional drizzle of rain. Local growers are a little low on produce right now, but there was fresh asparagus and some tomatoes on the vine. However, I have a head of cauliflower, four bunches of broccoli, and two baskets of organic grape tomatoes. So I decided to forego the asparagus and tomatoes today. I also didn't get any Toofu which is some of my favorite stuff. It tastes really yummy. I can eat it plain, right out the plastic wrapper. A few stalls down from Toofu is La Vie, or it should have been, which is an offspring of Cafe Gratitude. But both these places are pretty far for me to drive if all I want is a bowl of raw coconut curried soup or kale salad or my favorite, raw pecan pie (my mouth is watering just thinking of it). Today however, the stall for La Vie wasn't there. This bummed me out as I was getting hungry and the food at this stall I knew I could eat, being vegan and raw. The only other things I knew I could eat were dried dates (which is too rich for morning, but still yummy), and slices of pomelo and Cara Cara oranges. But then I saw Raw Daddy.

I tried a sushi sampler and bought a Moroccan cone. Also talked with the executive chef of ice cream, who I must say is a cutie. Anyway, it's quite disheartening that there are no raw food/vegan restaurants in easy distance of home. There are the occasional Thai restaurants, etc., within a few miles, but sometimes I just want vegan without the Thai. You know what else is disheartening? No yoga studios in Downtown San Jose. I mean, WTF? San Jose has been trying to become a major city for over 20 years and it still insists on closing down at 2 am, has no vegan restaurants, and no yoga studios. This of course is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

However, Raw Daddy, though not a restaurant as yet is getting ready to be pimped out. While I was talking with the haute couture ice cream chef, by the name of Daniel, a buyer from Whole Foods happened to be walking by and ate some samples. Maybe, some day soon there will be more variety available. But until then, I'll have to hit up the farmer's markets in Campbell and Sunnyvale.

Now, about yesterday.
It was a bust. Shortly after posting yesterday's entry I decided that unless I had something Lentil going on, there was really no reason for me to put myself through the misery of water only. I did, however, stick to only raw foods with the occasional herbal, and caffeine-free, tea. Again, it seems too cold to eat anything refridgerated (so everything is on the counter top for a few hours before eating), or even smoothies (green and otherwise). But as I have all those coniferous foods just waiting for me, and a whole bunch of kale, I guess I'll try preparing something new.

I do feel pretty good though. Not heavy or weighed down as is often the case when one eats refined grains and overprocessed foods heavy in simple sugars and saturated fats. Still, yesterday was a TV watching day, with minimal reading though I started two new books this past week.

In regards to TV, I'm thinking of giving it up again. I'd really miss the DVR, but I know I could easily live without all those entertaining shows, like 'Burn Notice', 'Psych', and 'Leverage'. There's new shows coming out too, in April. But really, all I would really miss watching is Masterpiece Theatre and Mystery! on PBS. If I could keep keep my DVR for recording those shows, I would, and get rid of the rest. And then the money I'd save from not having digital cable with a DVR I can put toward buying more fresh fruit and veg. Cuz that's really expensive.

But I'm worth it.

Detox

2009-02-28T10:36:00.000-08:00

Today is the first day of detox.

This is the third ever that I've done. In 2007, I did this juice detox for three weeks and the whole time I was dying for home grown tomato. When I finally finished the detox. I stood over the sink and ate three. Oh god that was good.

Anyway, I detoxed not too long ago. Maybe January or December or sometime, no longer remember. I did mostly well, but I think I may have ended sooner than I anticipated. I was just so tired and cold.

This detox will essentially be the same, raw fruits and vegetables. I don't know how long I'll last though. It's difficult eating raw when it's so cold outside. Even with eating 'hot' foods. A hot cuppa tea and a plate of toast just soooo hits the spot.

Today as the first day, it's only water. I can eat at 6pm, a meal of my fruit of choice until I can't eat anymore. Even now I'm wondering if I really want to do this as I'm hungry and cold. I could manage the hunger, but gah! I'm dying for hot tea, of any variety. The last time I detoxed, my first day was miserable. I was tired and cranky and restless. I couldn't concentrate on anything. I couldn't read. There was no point in cooking or food preparation. I cleaned a little, but my energy waned quickly. This is what I anticipate for today. I'm so looking forward to my monofruit meal tonight. I'm not sure if I want oranges or grapefruit or apples.

Even now, I just want something with a non-water flavor in my mouth. Licorice root tea. Or a nice black tea with just a few drops of stevia. Just some flavor. But dammit, I've only been out of bed for five hours. I can eat in 6. This is so sad.

Wish me luck.

Toys

2009-02-26T08:19:00.000-08:00

Well, let me just say that I could have gone in so many directions with this one. I'm sure we all could. But as I almost completely forgot about this blog until late Wednesday, just as I was thinking of going to bed early that I might read a bit before turning out the light, I remembered about 'toys'. I love toys. I could wax rhapsodic about toys. Interestingly, I don't have as many about as I used to. Many of them have been put away in boxes.

Here are two that have stale Pez in them. I have two other, Gonzo and Princess Leia, but for some reason they are downstairs, suffering a dark and unheated storage room. Not sure what they may have done to deserve that.

These three cute little figurines I've had since very early childhood. Cachet Lion, Mouse, and Fired Rabbit. The lion used to smell of some powdery perfume, and he's purple and orange. What's not to love? Mouse is one of my first every purchase, acquired one summer holiday at Curry Village in Yosemite. I bought the same figurine at least three times before my parents realized that I didn't care if the fuzzy mouse butt wasn't actually glued to the shiny, polished flat bit of rock with 'Yosemite' stamped on it. I knew how to use mucilage glue my own self! I finally got to buy it and keep it. What a relief! I kept crying my poor six year old eyes out whenever I thought I had lost it. Very sad. And Fired Rabbit was a gift from my mom's youngest sister, when she spent several weeks in the hospital as a child herself, I forget what for. She had several figurines that she had made while there. And she let me choose one to keep. Fired Rabbit was very pretty and reminds me still of 'the Velveteen Rabbit', one of my favorite stories. About ten years ago I was walking past a ceramics store and they had this exact figurine. I was very intrigued. But being low on funds and I did nothing about it. When I walked past again, months later, the shop was closed. Very sad.

Here is my Magic 8 Ball collection. The yellowy-orange one is 'A series of Unfortunate Events' Ball, which, unlike the books, is quite funny. I read the first three of those books, thinking that they were stories of stellar perseverance of three orphans, but after the third book I just couldn't fathom reading more horrid stuff about their lives. I'm a pediatric nurse at a public hospital. I don't have to imagine bad crap happening to kids. So I stopped reading them and now I just stick to more uplifting prose.

Here are three toy cars. I like toy cars. My brother once gave my sister and I a race track set for Christmas. Me and Sis spent all of the the Christmas holidays playing with that track. He didn't get to play once. We all got the feeling that his plan didn't turn out quite as he expected. Anyway, I've only had these vehicles for less than three years. The green and the yellow are model cement mixers because they're my favoritest in all the world. I actually feel happier when I see one driving on the highway. When I was an infant I had one, tonka truck orange with a red and white barrel. I apparently refused to bath without it and screamed holy terror until I had it in my tepid (I also like tepid water and would scream holy terror if the water was the perfect degree of 'warm') little paw. There's a photo of me playing in my pink bath basin with said truck. Ah, good times.

Here are some toys that I usually keep put away in my closet. Otherwise my kitties harangue them all out of patience. The big white rabbit my brother and his wife gave to me on the occasion of my 25th birthday. I mean really. Who gives a grown woman big stuffed animals when a carnival isn't involved? Her name is Gates McFadden. Then there's Lupita Conchita Rosita Smith, 'Junior' (so named after my first Teddy Bear, Smokey ther Bear, was heinously murdered by the despicable neighbor boy), Kathy KwikKurl (these last two I've had since I was six and it's it amazing my dolly still has so much of her original hair?), and Oddbins (because, well, he's a pink elephant).

Well, that's it for my menagerie. See you next time!

PS-I had quite a difficult time posting this as I thought I lost it. But it's here and yay! I don't have to redo it!

Good Day

2009-02-24T16:52:00.001-08:00

it's beem a beautridul day in Ca though slighty cold. I had my hair done so I fell really, really pretty. Went to Santa Row afterwrd and had glass of wine followed by a free glass of champagne to celebrate Mradi grasdd. Read. it was nice. they played 70s music. played
I don't like spider's s and snakes' which I know fromy kid days. I sang aloud to every other song. so coollll. slightylybuzzed. Can you tell. ? Good day. Day off. With pretiiiy hair. Nice.

this is the wine bar that gave me free chamgpange. nice.

Sister

2009-02-23T20:47:00.001-08:00

I got a call last Friday from my nieces. My sister moved out to New Mexico several years ago. She and her family were having hard times in the East Bay and so after my eldest niece, now 22 years old, moved out there with her boyfriend, my sister and her husband decided to follow. Cost of living is cheaper.

Anyway, I've been out twice to see them in the five-ish years they've lived there. First, my sister, not having the best of health, having taken the hard road, or the very hard road, came down with double pneumonia and was hospitalized for a few weeks. I traveled to see her and stayed all day with her in the hospital, bathing her, turning her every two hours, calming her, advocating for her. Basically, I was her own private nurse. I got to see my nieces and grand niece too.

Then I went two summers ago for a family get together. Drove there during this time, and never once heard the song 'Route 66' though I past all those towns.

I miss my sister because she's my sister. She and I were never great friends. Once she became a teenager she was just plain mean. But I miss her because we grew up together, in the same house, in the same room, sharing our toys. I love her and I miss her though we were never great friends.

Well, I got this call from her this past Friday. My nieces like to text message me with such items as 'what are you doing?' and 'I love you tia' and 'I miss you tia.' Rarely does it occur to them to leave a name so I know who's TM'ing me. Well, this time they called and I spent an hour or two talking with the entire family, one person at a time. I was glad to hear that they were all in relative good health. My second oldest niece, a sophomore in high school, was getting into trouble when I visited last, but is now doing much better. Taking honors classes at the JC. With my sister.

This has made me very happy. Sister didn't finish high school all those years ago. The hard road didn't include that. So she got her GED about a decade ago. I think my dad got his at the same time. While she lived in California, she also took college classes in psychology and counselling. She worked as a counsellor for battered women at a shelter in East Bay. But she never finished her degree. Well, she's back to school now. Working toward her AA. And then she plans to get her BA at the local university.

But what makes me wonder is something I apparently said to her over ten years ago, on the occasion of my graduation with my BSN at San Jose State. My sister was so proud of me. I finished my degree and I had family and friends there to celebrate the occasion. An exceedingly pleasant moment in my life. She told me she was so proud of me and in reply I said to her, 'You'll be here some day.'

And that's what she plans to do. Because I believed in her. Isn't that amazing? I inspired her.

We were never great friends, but being sisters has made us close. I miss my sister.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle-A review with minimal spoilers

2009-02-21T19:16:00.001-08:00

I recently went to the book store armed with a $100 gift card from some friends who presented it to me on the occasion of my recent graduation. They were all very impressed that I had decided to go back to school after ten-ish years, and also that I had finished. Well, I got the gift card in early January and promptly forgot about it as I had stashed in between the leaves of another gift, a book, that I wasn't quite able to read yet, not being in the mood for such chick lit comedy. But I picked up the book a few days ago, browsing my shelves, and behold! There it was. So I packed up my purse of four or so of my current reads (in case I couldn't find anything worth buying and had to rely on something I already owned--haha) and took myself off to Barnes & Noble.

There I bought several books, one of which was this one:

I had gone up and down the stacks, browsing all categories, starting in science-fiction/fantasy, through mysteries, right to 'literature'. Which is a very big category. The 'j' section was quite a distance from where I started and what attracted me was the cover. I had heard of Shirley Jackson years ago, and of course read 'The Lottery' whilst in high school. Dark, and controversial. I liked it.

From reading the inside covers of this here book, I was unable to discern what the story was about. But I bought it anyway. Well, it's dark, and controversial. I liked it.

I doubt if I've ever read anything quite like it. And it ended not at all as I expected. I came to the conclusion by the end of the second chapter that it was about evil in a very terrifying form, but by the end of the book, I was uncertain if the story was really about the evil or just a family in a rural area.

I think this would be a great book to discuss in club form. As it is now, I don't want to give away too much in case others are out there wanting to read it.

Dark and controversial. I think you'll like it.

Theme Thursday-Lovely Libraries

2009-02-15T20:48:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure when my love of libraries started. The city I grew up in was a suburb of San Jose: now a major spot on the map, but then a city of farms and fields and blue collar workers. There were two libraries in Milpitas, the old historic one, which apparently was moved from its original home next to the 237 overpass to some new place along the same street (and it looks so much smaller than I remember), and another one, the one more convenient for my sister and I to walk to. This more convenient one, of which there are no photos to google, was Sunnyhills branch library, of which I am sure I still have an original library card stashed away in my shrew's box, little metal plate stamped in place and my name and address typed in the designated lines. It was a well-used card, if for no other set of books than Curious George (on a side note, I recently took care of a baby who smelled, to me anyway, of the CG's books, you know books always have a certain smell, and CG books always smelled differently to me than any other, and this baby smelled just like them!) and one of my favorites, 'Free to Be, You and Me'.

The library was two fields over, or perhaps three. Milpitas has changed a great deal since my childhood, no more empty fields, no more farms. We'd walk or ride our bikes, now I think of it, like traveling a country path with churned up fields on either side, with their early green shoots, followed by the tanginess of mustard flowers, only to be ploughed over at the end of the season, all the while with traffic noises held at bay another field or two over. Very sad that the empty fields are gone, filled instead with Chapperal homes. The bus might have taken us just as easily, but walking precluded waiting and as children we had a great deal of energy.

The Sunnyhills library was a low, flat-roofed building with metal stacks stretching back toward adultish novels and Life magazines. The children's section was in the front, naturally lit and well-supervised. We sat upon bean bags and low-slung chairs, laid down on the mats and shag carpeting, and read whatever came to our fingers.

Later the two libraries were combined into a new building nearer the center of town. I think even now there is an even newer place, built within the last decade. But the second site was where I remember reading more than Curious George. I can't remember when my like for reading became a passion for reading. But surely it happened here.

In the first and second grades, I progressed to advanced reading, 'Fun with Dick and Jane' being fairly elementary. Our advanced reading tables were set outside of the classrooms, in the center of the big rectangle of classrooms, in the assembly room where the school library was also held. And I was able to roam the stacks for likely titles, none of which I can remember now beyond E. B. White, Laura Ingalls Wilder, and L. F. Baum.

By the time I reached the fourth grade, at the tender age of 9, I was reading 'The Hobbit', 'Roots', and 'Gone with the Wind', having skipped over such teenage wonders as Nancy Drew and those interminable Judy Bloom novellas. But somehow, I can't seem to remember reading much between then and high school. In 8th grade, I managed to read only S. E. Hinton books and the entire Narnian Chronicles, over and over and over again. Possibly I read GWTW again as I read it every few years, and maybe 'A Tree Grows in Brooklyn', but I can't remember anything else.

And then high school came and with it all those stories and plays for English class on top of a whole mess of Dickens and the beginnings of a passionate affair with science fiction/fantasy. Ah, what love. It was then that my love of libraries blossomed. This was when I realized that my some in my group of friends had the same passion for reading. Possibly we all believed that libraries and book stores where the perfect places.
All the intervening years have added layers to my vision of the perfect, most beauteous library. I started out with a vision reminiscent of the library in Kate Winslet's little cottage in 'The Holiday', all those books lining the walls and outlining doors. But has also included such inviting rooms as one might find contained in a Jane Austen book, or perhaps more akin to Jasper Fforde, including all the layers with plot devices, lost plots, and backstories. Nothing forgotten, all catalogued. A grand ole library, complete with comfy chairs and frequent reading lamps, step ladders and stools, and of course a cat or two.

Of course, my current real-life library is quite a bit more modest than all that. Possibly because I sold a great many of my books back in my 20s when money was scarce, (but more likely because I'm just not that rich and I'm the only reader in my family and have had to built up my stock of books on my own). Woe's the pity. I am however zealously trying to make up for such hard-heartedness.

Nowadays, when I'm feeling low, or anxious, or restless, albeit these emotions don't happen often, I will stand before one or another of my bookcases, running my fingers along the spines, reading titles, pull out a likely book and settle to read, mind engrossed and emotions, whatever they may be, equalizing and calming. What wonders! A cure for a restless mind in a restless world contained within, in such a place, in such a room, in this or that book.

Wouldn't it be lovely if we could all do that? Sit in a library and be peaceful?

Rainy Day

2009-02-15T16:28:00.000-08:00

Now unlike a great many people I meet, I never complain about the rain. Never. I love the rain. I become exceedingly annoyed when people start complaining about the rain. How they wish it would stop so they can go out and enjoy the outdoors. It's always a variation on this theme. My rejoinder is a variation on the fanatical 'California is in a DROUGHT people! Have you seen the reservoirs? They're almost empty!'

Don't get me wrong. I love warm spring days and cool summer mornings and all those others times of day through the seasons, but rain and cold are so wonderful. And since I live in CA, I know it will be relatively short lived so I enjoy it. Otherwise I'd move somewhere with more extreme winter-like qualities.

But since I have no intention of doing that I relish the rain when it comes, mostly by staying in-doors, warmly dressed and with a goodly supply of teas and comfort foods, which right now consists of homemade vegetable soups and vegan gingersnaps (which I've unfortunately already eaten). I also have been attempting to decrease the numbers of books on my 'to read' shelves and have joyously hit on the combination of 'Persuasion' and 'Captain Wentworth's Diary' to keep me occupied for a few days while I take a break from 'Bleak House', 'The Portable Dorothy Parker', and 'The Namesake' (I know, I should probably concentrate on one book at a time, but I generally like to follow my mood when it comes to reading). As a matter of fact I haven't been outside at all today though I occasionally feel that I should go someplace just to enjoy the rainy moment that much better and appreciate the comforts of home that much more when I return. Perhaps I should. And while I do that here are two photos taken from my front and back windows.

I used to go on rain walks. But not so much anymore. Though I guess I'm healthier now than in my 20s, what with organic produce, minimal caffeine and no tobacco, one would think that rain walks would be less likely to kill me with pneumonia. But I suppose walking from the car to the store might be considered walk enough though now I think of it, going to the store for chewy gingersnaps is something approaching sad. And going to any other store would be pointless as I've nothing I need to buy and buying something or anything just because would be wasteful, unless it were a book, as I really should try to economize.

Anyhow, as I live on the second story of a building that has more charm than amenities, the windows from which these photos were taken have metal panes. And since the last few earthquakes, and the age of the building predates seismic construction, my windows are a tad drafty. The tree before the front window affords a great deal of privacy from the neighbor directly opposite me. The parking lot in the back affords a great deal of annoyance every Saturday that I'm home as the sidewalks are usually lined with protesters and some truly heinous posters of aborted fetuses. But on Sundays, everything is blessedly quiet, and on this day, wet.

And now for those gingersnaps.

Fishes for Me

2009-02-12T07:46:00.000-08:00

I almost forgot about today's post though I fished out these photos on Sunday. Work was very busy and many of my colleagues were stressed with pending patient, who never came. And then of course there was the Hazmat incident in the ED that closed the hospital to ambulances and foot traffic in the emergency room. The county hospital, a 600 bed hospital with the busiest ER in the county, was closed for 5 hours. And of course, none of us were told what was happening. Not even my nurse manager. We had to google it.

Anyway, I'm refreshed now after my evening bath and suddenly remembered that I had this here blog commitment to fulfill. I actually have quite a few fishy stuff but decided on these here tiles.

A few blocks from my apartment is the Municipal Rose Garden. I like to go when all the roses are in bloom and take photos of all the pretty flowers. In the center of park is a shallow fountain. The water is a very vibrant aquamarine and all along the edge are tiles. Most of them are varying shades of sea-foamy green, but interspersed are these tiles, of fish. I think there might actually be more than three of these tiles, but three is all I took.

I think them quite lovely and am soothed by the seemingly cheerful demeanor of the fish. See their smiles? Their flirty tail fins? And their saucy gazes? Those are some cheerful fish. I think my favorite is the middle one, makes me think that I might be able to meet such a one if I were to become a fish like the Incredible Mr. Limpet, one of my favoritest movies. All about a man who loves fish so much that when he accidentally falls into the water at Coney Island, turns into a fish. He has untold adventures and essentially saves the entire world one-finned. Amazing! This one to the right reminds me of his Lady Fish. Quite the beauty, yes?

D is for Danger!

2009-02-10T19:52:00.000-08:00

My friend Meg assigned me this letter to write 10 things, beginning with the letter 'D' that means something to me. Not as easy as one would think. And only now thought of 'dolphin', but as dolphins don't mean a great deal to me that word probably wouldn't have been on this list. Anyway, so here I go.

Doody. This is an integral part of my life. I have a bachelor’s degree in doody. I know how it’s made, how it should look, and why it might look wrong. And now my friends might understand my slightly OCD need to wash my hands.
Dodgeball. One of my favorite movies. It’s uplifting and comical and joyously removes the burdens of this mortal coil with it’s succinct and heartfelt statements. ‘You look like a bunch of retards trying to fuck a doorknob!’ Priceless.
Dating. I just don’t know about this. I’ve never liked dating. But unfortunately, it’s a required prelude to being in an actual relationship. I can spend whole days alone, doing several things or nothing at all and I don’t mind the solitude or lack of companionship. So sometimes I wonder why I occasionally try to date, wanting that comfortable and easy companionship, but not wanting to go through the distress of the preliminaries.
Dancing. I dance in the mornings. Not every morning. But many of them. I dance in my jammies in the morning. I twirl and shimmy and even sing, making up my own words to old tunes.
Dr. Who. I’ve loved this show since I was 10 years old. My mom is a big PBS fan and I picked up my love for Mystery!, Masterpiece Theatre, etc., from her. She’s why I like British comedies like Dave Allen, Monty Python, et al. And of course Dr. Who. I started watching the reruns with Tom Baker; he remained my favorite until David Tennant took the mantle. I’ve always wanted the Doctor to fade in in that big blue box, right in the middle of my living room. But he doesn't usually do that. Still, there’s out of the way streets that are ripe for Tardis landings. Then I can see the end of time and help him save the world. That would be awesome!
DVR. Since graduating I have been watching WAY too much television. I’m thinking of getting rid of it again. Just watch DVDs when I feel like it and don’t even bother with the news. It’s like that Hulu.com commercial with Alec Baldwin. I can feel my brain dissolving and turning to mush, perfect for slurping up.
Dreams. I used to journalize my dreams, every morning. Now that I have a little more time, I was thinking that I should start journaling again, but practicing to remember dreams is harder than one might think. I have actually remembered my dreams of the past few days, but now that hard thing is to stop long enough to jot down sentences and key words. I liked reviewing my dreams. If nothing else, they are highly entertaining.
Dentist. I love my dentist. He’s an old family friend. I’ve been going to him since I was six and I’m not sure what I’ll do when he finally decides to retire. Panic probably. My parents still go to him and many times he knows what they’ve been up to better than I do.
Dog. I loved my dog. I miss him. While growing up, we had two dogs that I remember. The first was a cockapoo named Chablis. He had this sort of champagne pink color. I don’t actually remember what happened to him. Maybe the same thing that happened to Morgan. The dog I really remember. Morgan was a wired hair fox terrier. Looked like Asta from the Thin Man movies. Behaved a lot like Asta too, except less trained. I keep a photo of him on a wall and remember all his quirks with fondness and a little regret. Because he wasn’t trained we had to guard against running away. And of course he got out. My dad, being the occasionally foolish man, went to search for him himself. Usually we all dispersed and caught him eventually. But not this time. I’m always a little fearful that he met an untimely end. I know by now he must be dead, but I always fervently hope he was with someone who if not loved him, at least was kind to him. I miss my dog.
Death. Death, like doody, is an integral part of my life, not all the time, but often enough. I had a relatively pain-free childhood and only suffered the death of an occasional hamster during my pre-teens. I used to worry that when I did actually experience the death of a close relation or friend that I would be smacked down with fear and pain and loneliness, that I somehow wouldn’t be able to cope. But I’ve witnessed the deaths of both adults and children since that time, and I’m not that troubled. Not really. Yes, it is sometimes painful and very sad for the family that remains, but I’m always ok. I wonder sometimes if that’s why I can do what I do, love being a pediatric nurse. People are always exclaiming that it must be so hard to see children suffer. Not knowing what else to do, I agree with them. But it isn’t hard. It’s not like facing one’s own death, into the barrel of a gun so to speak. I do what I must, what I can, because I can do it. That’s a good thing.

A reading list

2009-02-07T20:14:00.000-08:00

I took exception to the Telegraph's post listing books that should be read. I probably wouldn't have minded so much if they had given reasons. But just a seemingly arbitrary list is just not right. Why one book over another? Why not just list all the Nobel Prize winners and have done? Or why the whole of TLR? Though I know they were written as one story and separated into three for publishing, if I could have skipped the first two and just read 'The Return of the King' I would have, but really, why insist on reading all three?
Well, out of the Telegraph's list, I've read about 1/3, and I've always intended to read certain other, of which I bought immediately from Amazon. Of course, that fattens up my reading list considerably . This is a list of books currently on my bookshelves that I've had anywhere from 10 to 15-ish years to 1-ish days. Of course, I tend to reread favorites, which aren't on this list, so that makes reading all these books a slow process. And damn it if I can't keep myself from bringing more home.

1. Andominii
2. Bhagavad Gita
3. Biotech Nation
4. Being and Nothingness
5. The Bitch Posse
6. Breakfast of Champions
7. Bleak House (reading now)
8. Mark Twain’s Book for Bad Boys and Girls
9. Captain Wentworth’s Diary
10. Confederacy of Dunces
11. Catch-22
12. Civil Disobedience
13. Cocktails for Three
14. Cransford
15. Don Quixote
16. East of Eden
17. From Paris to the Moon
18. Gangs of New York
19. House of God
20. House of Leaves
21. In Cold Blood
22. In the Name of the Rose
23. Lathe of Heaven
24. A Light in the Darkness
25. Lincoln-Selected Speeches and Writings
26. Lincoln-Great Speeches
27. A Man Rides Through
28. The Mastery of Love
29. The Mirror in her Dreams
30. Moonstone
31. Middlemarch
32. The Narnian
33. Neruda Poems (reading now)
34. 100 Years of Solitude
35. Dorothy Parker Reader (reading now)
36. Pompeii
37. Poe
38. Power of Now (reading now)
39. Practicing the Power of Now
40. Pragmatism
41. Walden
42. The Words Lincoln lived by
43. The Sheltering Sky
44. Three Cups of Tea (reading now)
45. Token Chick (reading now)
46. Voices from the Heart (reading now)
47. Ya-Ya’s in Bloom

Theme Thursday

2009-02-05T09:34:00.000-08:00

I have many photos of statues as they are one of my favorite art forms. I took a whole slew of pics whilst in the Louvre back in 2004 or 2005, and was perusing those favorites. I remember I was admiring statues of the four seasons from a certain angle. Behind me was another statue of a soldier on horseback, more that life size. Like three or four times life size. Very beautiful and exquisitely detailed. Anyway, I was admiring the Four Seasons and turned to see the statue behind me and having to look up to see exactly what it was, and from what angle, I exclaimed, "OMG! It's a boy horse!"

Ah, good times.
But I didn't actually take a photo of the boy horse, so instead I have a photo here of a fish of some sort. Unless it's a whale. Anyway, this was taken a few years ago in Woodside during my birthday breakfast with my chickies from high school. It was an excellent day. Beautiful weather, loving peeps, music and song solely for my benefit, and of course, a tiara.

Oh Gah!

2009-01-23T18:45:00.001-08:00

Why? Why do I not take pictures of these things, even when the thought crosses my mind. Why?

So two nights ago I went to dinner and then blogged the deelish veggie main course which I attempted to reproduce tonight. Well, that didn't work. Didn't taste anything at all like the restaurant stuff. AT ALL. That's not to say it wasn't tasty and satisfying, just not restaurant quality. Especially my very inept attempt at presentation, but then I went to Catholic school so sometimes my fashion sense, among others, is just not up to par. Anyway, tonight I also made dessert from some fresh, organic strawberries and blueberries and then extemporaneously blended frozen mango chunks with half a banana and poured it over my berries and OH MY GOD. I can't believe I have lived all my life without this taste in my mouth. This last is a verbatim statement. OM freaking L, that was magnificent!

And of course, I was so excited about eating it, that I couldn't even be bothered with getting my camera phone out. Damn.

Soylent Green...

2009-01-22T22:38:00.000-08:00

is people.

Went out tonight with my friend Frederick. He’s a newish friend and so we spent time asking getting to know you questions. F is not an eH friend. He’s a more organic one that I met through my girl M, through her boy J. Anyway, F and I and a great time over various types of vodka and salty fries. Towards the close of the night, we reminisced about Robotech. Oh, those were good times. Voltron, Robotech, and GI Joe.

Today I had off from work. Tuesday I managed to watch bits and pieces of the inauguration in between patient care, but I recorded it on my dvr to watch later so this afternoon I was able to sit and watch all those bits I missed including the entire post-inaugural speech and the national anthem, which I stood up to and sang along with. I was so proud and happy to watch Mr. Obama be inaugurated. Really proud for the first time in years to be an American.

Mind, I was never really ashamed of being an American, but Bush used to piss me off so quickly and deeply that I couldn’t concentrate on anything he said. And I’d get very (unhappily) excited about people wanting to talk politics with me, especially if they wanted to argue, that I'd end up just walking away from possibly very interesting conversations. But now, it’s a new era. A proud and great moment in our history and I am so proud of our new leader.

You know, in the past, being a sci-fi freak and general creative thinker/writer, it was never very difficult for me to imagine a world where bad things happened. And this from my happy disposition. Yet I have always been able to believe my worst case scenario of the 'Earth Abides’ and some horrible Y2K/evil dictator destroys the world and we all end up in some lightless ‘Dark Angel’ world where the fundamentals reign and we all live in segregation, and where I am forced to be separated from all my loved ones—Christians, Jews, Muslims, Blacks, Hispanics, gays, etc. Such a dark world that though may not seem possible now, seemed somehow probable to me in all the greed, anger, hatred and all other misanthropy that seems prevalent in the news nowadays. I could envision the iron curtain, bamboo curtain, tortilla curtain, et al., being lifted and vileness rolling out like an infection to all the countries nearby. A dark vision. Cataclysmic. But that’s another set of books with dragons and mages.

But as I sat and absorbed the words and meaning of President Obama’s message, I suddenly was able to envision another future. A place and time where widespread and worldwide harmony and philanthropy existed. Where our outer packages held no weight, and our religious opinions and beliefs are just that, and not personal insults and precursors to the destruction of a way of life. It was a happy moment for me.

But this is not what I wanted to talk of.

Wednesday I was working again and was able to watch (somewhat) ‘the View’ in between patient care. Well, Sigourney Weaver was a guest and they showed an excerpt of ‘Aliens’, where Ripley fights the Alien ("get away from her you bitch!") wearing that hydraulic suit. Well, as I watched I was reminded of a scene in Robotech when Max Sterling dresses himself, in his fighter pilot plane-turned-mechanical knight, in a Zentraedi workman’s uniform. This totally wowed his superior officers because of the fine motor skills that would be needed in order to dress a giant robot warrior into a coverall. I mean really, that’s impressive. Think about it, like trying to grasp the cool toy in those frustrating games filled with all those crap stuffed animals. And Max was so bad ass, he could get all the crap animals and perhaps undo a womans bra with those poorly designed and barely functional grasper thingies. Amazing.

So F and I started talking about Robotech and he has all the episodes, all the episodes!, on his widescreen, flat panel, Apple TV. And I’m so jealous. We’ve made plans to get together to watch it. Pabst and popcorn will abound.

Anyway, we got on to this topic via our inherent, mutual sci-fi geekiness. He’s more into newer movies and I’m more into classic movies. Needless to say, I am the only person he’s ever met who know’s ‘Soylent Green’.

Vegan Tastiness

2009-01-22T13:43:00.000-08:00

Last night, I went to a function for a retiring English teacher at my high school alma mater last night. Afterward, me and my girls went out to dinner at a restaurant I hadn’t been to in long time. Not since before I became a vegan. The menu, although tempting for them, all had some sort of meat or dairy in them. There was no vegetarian-type dish. So I explained that I was a vegan and asked for a recommendation. This is what I did last time we went out, in SF, and ordered something off the menu that was altered for my vegan sensibilities. Last night, the waiter hadn’t any recommendations, but stated he would speak with the chefs and ask what they could do for me. Here is when I mentioned that though I’m vegan, there is nothing that I don’t like or won’t try. I like all food, except for animals stuff. Poor things. Anyway, the waiter then came back when we were all ready to order and told me that something was being ‘created’. Wow.

It was DELICIOUS. Molded, lightly sautéed spinach, with asparagus and green bean pieces topped with a mound of think sliced zucchini. For yummy garnish, very thinly sliced golden beets with small wedges of blood oranges. O-M-G. It was so tasty. I regrettably did not photograph it, and I even had my camera and not just a cell phone. D’oh.

Anyway, I just got back from the grocers and made sure I had all the ingredients for such a concoction of my own. I find this very exhilarating. As a matter of fact, my mouth is watering as I type. Yummers.

A little BSG

2009-01-19T06:58:00.000-08:00

I love this depiction of the Last Supper. Heh.

Stange dreams of strangeness

2009-01-18T07:56:00.000-08:00

The night before last, or perhaps yesterday morning I had two dreams before awakening. Of course, now I can’t remember what they were only that they were a little darker than what I’ve been used to in the past. I think most of my dreams are fairly dark, but they somehow match my sense of humor and I’m not bothered by them. These two however were eerie and a little bothersome. I think there might have been a dead person or a zombie in the last one, but again, I don’t really remember either.

This morning before waking I had another dream, or maybe many little dreams blended together.

I was traveling with a group of people, strangers, in a vehicle that was part train, part boat. It might have been on wheels on a track, but mostly I remember that we were all sitting in separate cabins/cars, and we were wending our way through a wet landscape. At one point, I found the perfect spot to watch through the window as the tracks submerged below water level and I would be able to have a panoramic view through the thick panes of glass. But something pulled away my attention and I went in search of something that I could not name or remember. I tried to shake it off, to ignore it and return to the cabin with the wide window, but car after car was the wrong one, and then I could not find my bag. Finally, before awakening, I found the spot and settled in to watch through the window, but the watery landscape I had been hoping to see had passed.

The dream previous to this one, is lost to me, but I remember not liking it, it being something about loss or death or something of that nature.

Still, I awoke cheerfully enough, at 6am, and have been watching ‘Spiderman’ on TNT since. Not a bad way to start the morning.

eHarmonizing

2009-01-17T19:50:00.000-08:00

I have been active with eHarmony since early December 2008 and it’s been…interesting. For one, though I personally have no problem with it, it is irksome that gay couple options are not available because I know many gays and that just doesn't seem fair. Ooh, and here's something interesting and something else here. And then there other stuff, such as...

I don’t know the rate of interaction for the majority or how they may feel in general. It seems somewhat slow for me, but at the same time I often just while away the evening, completely ignoring eH and not at all interested in communicating with anyone. I was initially unsure of what I hoped for by joining, and really I remain unsure. For those who are unknowledgeable, eH is not like other match-making websites. There is no browsing photos and profiles and contacting others who catch the fancy. One must fill out a questionnaire designed to give clues to one’s character and then one is matched up with another with similarities. One can receive zero to five or six matches per day, perhaps even more. Apparently, eH also uses ‘flexible’ matching in that if they don’t find someone who exactly matches, within say a 30 miles radius (and I live in the Bay Area), they find others that have those character similarities, but instead lives outside of that radius, in say Alberta, Canada or Boulder, CO. I usually close the far off matches with the reason that the physical distance is too great. I don’t after all intend to uproot myself to any great distance unless it be the south of France or London, England or some such place. Well, I probably wouldn’t mind Portland or Seattle, but as I don’t have any plans to leave my place of work, and as I live only 2 miles from there and walk or bus or bike to work, I have no plans to inconvenience myself by moving away and possibly requiring a two-bus trip, or a half-hour or longer commute, or having to get up even earlier in order to arrive at work in a timely manner. Work starts at 7am, not 7ish.

I’ve been in contact with a few of those matches. ‘Match requests’ they’re called, when the man contacts me. And sometimes, when I haven’t previously closed a match because I could think of no good reason other than I’m not interested (and that is an option—don’t feel the chemistry), I’m disappointed by the request because I have no interest, might even be turned off. Like the first match request, let’s call him ‘Tom’. The jpeg was not bad (and I usually try to read the blurbs first and not judge my reaction by the crappy pic, or the lovely landscape). An attractive man. The opening questions intended to give an overall display of character were meh. I felt no chemistry. Still I answered the questions and maintained communication until we reached the email portion when he asked for a phone number. I told him that I was uncomfortable with that at this early stage. He was ok with this, but then shortly after, his membership was lapsed, he sent me his phone number and email address, but I wasn’t bothered to try contacting him so I haven’t. However, the reason I didn’t feel any chemistry can be directly related to the fact that he wore a cross on a necklace in one of the photos. He was a Christian. And that just turned me off.

Two others who contacted me, let’s call them Ricardo and Enrique, and whom I’ve no interest in, are Hispanic. And not to be prejudiced, I’m not interested in Hispanic men. I know Hispanic men, I’m related to a whole family of them, and I’m not interested. This is a very generalized, yet narrow viewpoint, I know this, but there it is. There was also another man who, shall we say ‘Sam’?, who, in the section that asks what fives things he can’t lived without, answered a BBQ pit, among other things, also didn’t interest me. In these instances, when it came my turn to send along tidbits of character, I answered quite forthrightly, my intention being to not only be straight-forward about who I am, but hopefully to scare them off.

Like when I was asked, ‘what am I passionate about?’ or ‘what is essential in my potential partner?’ or ‘describe my spirituality’. Things of that nature. And I’d write something along the lines of ‘I am a liberal’, ‘I voted for Obama and against Prop 8’, ‘I don’t celebrate Christmas’, and very important, ‘I am a VEGAN’. That got rid of the BBQ guy. And the not being a Christian so not celebrating Christmas got rid of the Hispanic ones.

And you know, I feel no remorse. I’m over feeling badly for not being interested. That’s part of the point about using this resource, right? Relatively safe to just not give a rat’s bum if some random guy takes it personally. After all, all those above lines are true and if they don’t dig ‘em then we’re definitely not meant for each other.

And then there’s this other guy who 'must have' someone who’s physically fit and not flabby. Well, this isn’t gonna work, I can say that right now. He also answered questions with questions, which isn’t necessarily bad, but the sentences were in actuality statements with question marks at the end which was plain annoying and gave the impression that he lacks confidence, which I’m fairly certain is not true if the rest of his profile is any judge. Also, his politics are ‘middle of the road’ which is such a pussy statement. Oh, give me a break! Make a decision. So excuse me while I close this match…

Ok, well that’s done. One more bridge burned, but it’s likely I would never have wanted to roam in that meadow anyway so nothing lost.

However, there is one with whom I’ve been in contact and with whom I’m interested in spending some time. This man lives in Monterey, which by all accounts is quite far, especially if we decide that we’re worth it (which at this point is a very premature thought), and then we may have to begin wondering about living arrangements. We spent the afternoon together in Downtown (and I had no problem hugging him when first meeting, unlike some other guy who felt unwelcomed by my lack of hug after inviting himself over) and then I discovered that he is unsure of getting married again, having divorced a few years ago. Apparently, his best friend and his girlfriend have been together for several years and don’t feel it necessary to marry, and Monterey likes that idea. Well, Monterey may be a keeper. Also, he voted for Obama and against Prop 8, and he was as fearful of Palin in the White House as I. He isn’t a vegan, but that didn’t seem to deter him and as long as he doesn’t believe that vegetarians, et al., are not to be trusted, we just might get along.

I’m not sure if I would call our preliminary get together as a date, but such as it was was quite comfortable and enjoyable. Tentative plans were made to meet again in Monterey but as he works Monday to Friday, and I work whenever, we could make no more plans beyond ‘let’s talk about when we can meet in the next week’.

We’ll see.

Awake

2009-01-14T05:54:00.000-08:00

Well, as I mentioned sometime earlier that I dropped my hours at work, something I had wanted to do at the beginning of 2007 when I started grad school, but only was just able to do this past Fall. Now of course, I'm barely making enough money to pay my debts, and that's not including the student loans that I haven't even started paying on. So in an effort to make more money, I've scheduled myself overcode, meaning on top of my 3 day work week, I'm scheduled to work one extra day. Except this season has been very slow, yet another reason to blame the economy, and we are over staffed. I had geared myself up these past few days to go into work and float to some unit that I possibly did not like, like burn unit and NICU, but instead I skipped (it's cold so I had to move fast) out of bed, made myself some tea and sat to watch a little morning news, only to be called by the nursing office telling me that we were overstaffed again today (I blame the morons at Deloitte for making our skeleton crew too meaty) and that I wouldn't be needed. So it's 5am, and I have a day off.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not that sad about having a day off, again, I'm just saying: I'm awake.

A Pocketful of Miracles

2009-01-08T19:42:00.000-08:00

This is one of my most favorite movies. I usually like to watch it during the Yuletide season, like Scrooge, It's a Wonderful Life, and We're No Angels (not the questionable deNiro/Penn version, but the Bogart/Ray/Ustinov one which is SOOOO much better). Of course I was ablet to watch the more recent, widely watched A Christmas Story, and the newer holiday favorites such as Love Actually, Last Holiday, and the Holiday. I'm talking feel good movies. Of course there are others, but this past holiday, what with my head cold and all, and my cable with DVR and the plethora of movies and shows that were available for me to watch, I just didn't get around watching those childhood favorites. Tonight however, instead of watching 30 Day of Night, I decided to spend a couple of hours feeling warm and tingly inside. I mean I watch this entire movie with a goofy grin on my face and a mist in my eyes.

So I invite any who wish to watch, with popcorn and wine at the ready, and a whole box of kleenex. Come on in, the door's open.

Cellular Death at the Beginning of the Year

2009-01-06T22:44:00.000-08:00

Nothing. That’s what’s been happening in my brain. Nothing. These past 2 years has been filled with moments that went completing undocumented. I was dying inside. Dying. I yearned to write, to blog. Like a bulemic forced to keep it in (I’ve taken care of a few and it’s not pretty). Now, now I have blessedly graduated. I went through two years of extreme, extreme, extreme anxiety, sleepless nights, denying myself the awesome pleasure of lovely books and their stunningly gorgeous words. I would get up at 6am, sit down to my computer and text books and research journals and work and study till 10 or 11 or 12 o’clock at night, go to bed, maybe sleep, and get up and do it all over again. Over and over and over. For two years. I no longer have the stamina to bike up the Los Gatos Wuss Trail on my mountain bike. Yoga is such a thing of the past that I can barely touch my fingertips to my toes and my Standing Bow Pulling Pose sucks big fuzzy gray ones. I have spent a total of $25 at the cinema for whatever blockbuster movie happened to be out over the past two years (that is so sad). I no longer remember my friends (which I think should probably be sadder). But I finally finished my degree. I might even be smarter for it.

After all this denial, you’d think that I’d be devouring my books. I’d think I’d be devouring my books. But no. I’ve cleaned (that’s good). I’ve rearranged my apartment (that’s good). I’ve reconnected with my inner knitting fairy (that’s good, really). I’ve watched hours of cable television (that’s not good). Since I have reinstated my cable, I have been catching up with all those shows that I really missed. Like Monk, and Psych, and Bones. (Though I’ve only been watching this last one since the beginning of this season and I love it. Love it. And now it’s on every week night on TNT. There was a Bones marathon, which I recorded on my lovely DVR. David Boreanaz is SOOOO hot. I love him.) I actually have no idea what other shows I liked to watch except maybe My Name is Earl and That 70s Show. Well, maybe Battlestar Galactica, which I thought was over, but I’m getting the sensation that it’s not, and as I’ve been all into Bones this past month, I’ve neglected my BSG update viewing and I’ve only gotten to the middle of the second season, though I watched those when they originally aired but I feel I need to reconnoiter before picking up at the third season. OMG! I missed so much. I mean, who are these 5 other cyclons? What is going on with President Roslin? Oh my freak. I’m not sure I’ll be able to watch this new episode that seems to be coming out for an other month or two or three. Must catch up first.

Anyway, I’ve digressed. I meant to expound on the fact that I’ve been watching an excessive amount of television. This has led me to the deeply felt belief that television really does rot the brain because I have not had an original thought for a month now, except for maybe some very pleasant fantasies involving me and David Boreanaz/Seeley Booth and the timely foiling of some dastardly plan by some nefarious murderer (is that redundant?), and hence I’ve been unable to string more that half a sentence together. No imaginary conversations (which used to spew out of me at the most unanticipated moments), no witty succinct dialogs rife with pop culture references (but then I no longer remember any of my friends so who would I be having these dialogs with?), no nothing. Nothing. I’ve been meaning to write something regarding the usual new year crap and nothing. Nothing I tell you! Nothing! Rotted down right to the pituitary. No functioning brain cells left. Two years wasted just to commit brain cell suicide with all these exceedingly entertaining seasonal marathons.

I’m not even interested in blogging about Random Men, which are now coming from as far away as Calgary, Texas, and Colorado. I don’t even have interest enough to read the profiles, which begs the question of what my intent was in rejoining, but though I have no two cells to rub together right now, I guess I can still wait to write something more, er, entertaining until then.

I had intended to do a meme-ish like my friend Phil did, 12 memorable moments from 2008. But I couldn’t initially think of anything for January, until I remembered what happened in January. That kinda took the steam from that little engine. Still I will try to work on it for the next entry. Maybe it’ll cause a tiny big bang, or a big baby bang, and the brain cells will start to procreate.

Obliterate '08 and have a Divine '09

2008-12-31T19:49:00.001-08:00

Happy New Year! Hope you have a great one.

Random Men, part 2

2008-12-29T21:31:00.000-08:00

Since graduation, I’ve been busy. I’ve worked all of one day in the past two weeks and have been sick for most of those days. But it was only a head cold. You know? My entire body feels ok, it’s just my head and face, especially my nose, that bothers me. Filled with cotton fluff, eyes tired and itchy, copious amounts of snot cascading from my nose, and today, finally, occasional coughs preceded by tickles and itches at the back of my throat. Still, I called in sick for a few days and managed to completely rearrange my apartment, including artistically hanging some paintings and photos; dusted everything; vacuumed (5 days in a row!); cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen; took out a massive amount of recycling; did all my laundry; cooked; drank tea, eggnog, and wine; and felt generally satisfied with all my work, the new vantage point of having my armchair in a different corner, cable, the reorganized kitchen cabinets and drawers, and the absolute spiffiness of my week, minus the head cold and all that that entails, and that horrible dream of dying of dehydration and extreme dry mouth.

However, I read very little, having devoted my daylit hours to working around in my apartment and the evening hours to relearning to knit. So far, since my last post I have progressed to a grand total of 30 rows of 30 knits & purls, and one dropped stitch. Dammit. I’m contemplating starting over. It’s just too hard to pick up all those rows of stitches and I don’t know how to thread them ahead of time. It’s such a pretty patch of yarn. Very saddening. Or maddening. Maybe a little of both.

Anyway, one of the other things I’ve been twiddling with is ‘random men’. I decided, as CL was just way too random, and possibly weird, to return to eHarmony. My profile was still there so I updated it and submitted. It’s odd to read some of the stuff that I wrote two-ish years ago. I’ve changed and reading my entries was like reading a journal from 8th grade. Almost embarrassing. Well, nearly everyday, some new ‘matches’ are submitted for my perusal. And this is where some of the frustration, and the self-reflection, comes in.

When I submitted my information a week and a half ago, I neglected to update everything, like becoming a vegan and no longer considering myself Catholic. Then yesterday I went back and fixed those bits that weren’t quite true anymore. I requested that my matches be within 30 miles, because I really would rather not get involved in a long distance relationship, but apparently, this is not a parameter used to select matches as after the first 10 days I started receiving matches from Oregon, Wyoming, Washington, Nevada, and New Mexico. It seems I’ve run out of men to peruse in not only the Silicon Valley, but in the state of California. Usually, I close these after a quick look at their profiles as I will absolutely not move to Podunk, and not because I won’t go rural, but because I like where I work and I work in a level one trauma center in the heart of the Silicon Valley, and Podunk, Anywhere, USA does not usually include a level one PICU, though I will need to start doing something about extra money (ha, in this economy?) to help pay off my loans and debt. Anyway, I was about to close this one from somewhere in Washington, but he was just too cute. I know, I know. That’s so shallow, but he looks like Anthony Michael Hall, and not the Geek (though he was a cutie in a skinny adolescent way), but more like John Smith (minus the eerie death visions, at least I hope so). Except this one’s short. I know, I know. That’s so shallow, but I like a healthy length of leg. Wide shoulders, narrow waist, and a cute butt are good qualities too, like Doctor Hottoline, but I’m really quite the leg fancier.

I’m also leery of ‘Christians’. I realize that Christians aren’t necessarily bad people, but my practical experience suggests that many of them are too judgmental for my sensibilities. Don’t get me wrong, I have many friends who are Christians, also many of other faiths, I just don’t want to sleep with any of them. And forget about marriage. Mind you, I’m not necessarily against marriage, for myself or anyone, but people rush into it without realizing some of the hardships that it entails. Especially if the couples in question are made up of jealous, selfish, immature people. And as most of us have these qualities to some degree or other, marriage just seems like a terrible hoax played my some really mean people eons ago, a hoax that got way out of hand, like an Orson Welles broadcast. So I continue to ask myself, what am I hoping for from joining eHarmony?

One of the qualities that is listed as a ‘must have’ in one’s potential partner is a ‘commitment to marriage, family, etc.’ This wasn’t one of my must haves, though I have read that in some matches. Considering my thoughts on marriage, and that eHarmony seems to push the ‘get married’ idea, I’m a little confused as to why I rejoined. Can’t there be a ‘must have’ that states ‘is committed to long term, monagomous relationship without marriage and possibly without cohabitating’? (Tim Burton and Helena Bonham Carter have the right notion, live nearby, but separately.) Is that too much to ask?

There should also be hard and fast rules about photos. Now I don’t mind that photos aren’t required, or that we can opt for photos to be available only after communications have been started, but for pity’s sake, what’s with the group photos that includes more landscape than people? What do I care if you go river rafting with five other people or can ski down a black diamond run with various and sundry colleagues? A statement regarding outdoor activities would cover that. And yes, some people look to the photo first, which I try not to do, but physicality is important too. Like my preference for tall men (more leg), and how some people prefer blonds or redheads. It’s part of the chemistry of it all.

Well, even with my inner turmoil regarding my true desire for a partner, and my general disregard for marriage, I have been in contact with a few men. First, we exchange profile information. Then it’s on to Q & A. After that it’s more free form with emails sent through the site (for safety and continued anonymity). I’ve progressed to emails with a couple and somewhere in the middle stages with a few more. Problem is, when I read the information, I don’t feel eager to learn more. This could of course be because it just doesn’t work that way online. Or that I still haven’t come in contact with Mr. Right. Or that I really don’t want to do this. Not sure yet.

And of course, though I haven’t heard or talked with Trainer Guy since the day some time last month (wanker), I continue to think on him. Aside from being physically attracted to him, there were other things, more cerebral, more thoughtful, more emotional, that attracted me to him. And not a word. That 8th grade heartache/mystery is never ending—why didn’t he call? And then there’s Dr. Elusive, who’s good for a good tumble, but I otherwise have no interest in him. He’s just too…insubstantial for a boyfriend. That is, as real estate goes, he’s prime. (Very, very successful pediatrician and medical informaticist. Owes a home. Travels. Etc.) But he’s got no follow through. And he loves his work too much, so much that he hardly has time for a girlfriend. Also, he’s a player. I’ve tried to tell him that he doesn’t want a girlfriend, that’s way, way, way too much commitment. He wants a f*** buddy. And I’m just not into that anymore. With anyone that is. Doesn’t do anything for me. Though sex is lovely.

Sometimes, I look around my very comfortable apartment, after spending the entire day inside, like today, and wonder why I didn’t go out and enjoy the day, do something, meet someone? Well, today was quite cold, and I’m sick still, and it’s too costly to go out and buy coffee when I can make tastier stuff for cheaper at home. That’s today, but I can’t always answer like that. I like being home. I like my home. Will I like it as much if there was someone always about making demands (even if they’re reasonable by most people’s standards), seeking attention, stating opinions, and marking territory?

Hmm. Time for more self-reflection.

Addendum 12.30.08 0600--I now have matches in Arizona ( I guess they missed a state) and BC, Canada. I have now left the country.

Knitting is a Bitch

2008-12-26T19:56:00.000-08:00

I am an inexpert knitter. A beginner in the most banal sense of the word. Unlike my mom, who can knit circles around people, literal yarny circles. I used to crotchet (made clothes for my dollies), but not so much anymore. I took up knitting a few years ago. Made two scarves in which I used only a knit stitch and a hat made on circular needles, also only with the knit stitch. And then I started grad school and the therapy I might have gotten from the calming effect of working with pretty yarn was completely ignored as I convulsed in throes of worry over various papers, group projects and reading truly dense and pedantic text books. But those years are over. I've rearranged my living room (it's like a whole new apartment), switched up the dining room, reorganized some books (all my books are categorized and alphabetized), dusted, vacuumed TWICE (darn those cats), and a made slow progress through my four books. Finally, though, I thought, 'now I can get back to learning to knit'. I bought number 10.5 needles, to make a slightly chunky scarf and set to work.

Now I'm a slow knitter. I usually take about 2-3 hours of false starts before actually making any progress. And yep, I started around 5pm, and now at 8pm I have exactly 3 rows knitted and purled, and somewhere I picked up a stitch. How? How can I possibly pick up a stitch? I know how I might drop one, and heaven forbid that I should drop a purled stitch as I have no idea how to recover one of those, but really, how did I 'create' a stitch? How? HOW? HOW?

On an aside, 'Underworld 3' is coming out soon, with that chicky from 'Doomsday'. I liked Kate B. and Michael Sheen. Hmm. Should be interesting though.

Now, back to knitting. HOW? It makes no sense. The sense it makes is like nil. What kind of sense is that?

I hope I figure it out before I get to the hat.

Christmas Day

2008-12-25T17:13:00.000-08:00

I was scheduled to work today, but the cold that was threatening for the past week and a half reached climax on Sunday and I think would have been history by Monday night if I had stayed home, but I had been invited to watch a movie with a friend and ended up driving home at 11 pm, 40 degrees out and pouring down rain. Tuesday wasn't so bad but I was tired. Went to bed before 8pm, after programming my dvr to record a few of my favorite shows, and awoke tired.

My head cold wasn't really that bad. Only really suffering from the neck up, and though I didn't have a headache, a couple of tylenol cleared away the white cotton fluff that had been clouding my brain. But I was concerned about working today as I know my body and the likelihood that my colds get worse before they get better.

Last night for some reason I climbed into bed and laid flat on my back, and slept that way for several hours. I use 'slept' loosely. Sleeping in such a position plugged both nostrils, which forced me to breathe through my mouth which I don't do naturally. I kept trying to blow my nose, but nothing. I finally forced myself into a side-lying position after having very disturbing dreams of dying of dehydration and suffering from extreme dry mouth. Lying on my side help to drain the fluid to one side of my sinuses, but I then had to sleep with a kerchief in my hands as I had to blow my nose frequently.

After a few hours of blowing vary colored snot, coupled with the frequent flinging of dried snot-pellets, from my nose, I decided to call in sick. I really didn't want to. Aside from the holiday pay, I didn't want anyone to be called in to cover a gap in staffing. Christmas is notorious for bad things happening when people are unaware. Bad things like house fires and carbon monoxide poisoning and toddlers getting burned by hot soup, etc. Hopefully nothing like this happened since I left yesterday. We had four patients then, and one was an overflow from the pediatric unit. Anyway, I hope no one was called in to cover my absence. Still, my head might not have been up to it. My tonsils, evil creatures that they are, were swollen too. And, I continued to shoot snot chunks until the afternoon, by which time the rain, with the occasional hail storm, finally let up.

Still, I had a good day. I haven't been at home for Christmas for many years, always volunteering to work so those who do actually celebrate the day with friends and family can get the day off. I hung some picture frames, with pictures in them, cleaned out some old boxes and read some old stories and letters from friends, vacuumed (because my cats have yet to learn this skill), did a load of laundry, dusted, and watched and/or listened to one movie after another on my newly reinstated cable with dvr.

It was a good day, and I'm thankful.