Long Story Longer . . .

Aloha

2012-02-03T23:25:00.000-08:00

This trip to Hawaii came up suddenly for me. I had worked almost day and night (really) on our ridiculous, archaic 10-page employee annual reviews for my team of 15 for about a month. I have to do that twice a year, but it took me longer than usual this time for reasons I hope I've permanently repressed. I knew I was nearing the end of them on Monday of last week, and I really needed time off. I decided to look for travel specials for the following weekend, knowing that would give me incentive to finish my work on Friday and not drag it into yet another weekend. I thought maybe I would find an air/hotel deal for NYC for a couple of nights or something. The next day I asked my boss for time off, contingent on me finishing my reviews, and the next thing I know I'm getting on an airplane to Hawaii on Saturday morning at 6:00 having finished my reviews at 5:30. You heard me. No sleep. Right before leaving for the airport, I realized I should shower and put on different clothes. That whole thing sucked.

I booked 4 nights and ended up calling and asking for more time off work, eventually staying a total of 6 nights. I cried - hard - when I left, just feeling unprepared to face the world again and knowing it will be a while before I can again enjoy the special peace of mind that Hawaii gives me. I love Hawaii. I think I can say that I've traveled all over the world, and nothing is like Hawaii.

I stayed in a new place this time. My regular, el cheap-o place was all booked, probably because of the Pro Bowl (I had to text a coworker to find out what this thing was that was blocking traffic on Kalakaua Ave . . . he was displeased that I was unfamiliar with the Pro Bowl). The splurge on the new place was largely not worth it - a hotel is just a place to sleep. I did enjoy the gym (running a couple miles on each of the first two nights - go me! - and then leaving my gym shoes untouched for the rest of the trip) and the spa. I'm a spa girl, and ended up doing a massage, mani/pedi, and a sauna (my first! Holy 186 degrees) at different times during the week and loving every minute of all that.

The rest of the time was spent either laying in the sun listening to music or reading, surfing (just twice, but good experiences, and more on that to come, I hope) or hanging out with a guy I met. I'm a loner even more on vacation than I am in life, so it was a surprise to talk with someone long enough to find out that we clicked and wanted to hang out more. We spent almost every minute together from then on, and it was just really fun. He's a year younger than me and in the Navy, stationed at Pearl Harbor. He's smart and fun and generous, and we had a great time together. He told me Navy stories and I dragged him to CoCo Ichiban's, my favorite restaurant from my time in Japan and my best comfort food, and the North Shore to watch a surfing competition. (More on that, too.) I was really sad to say goodbye to him this morning as I left for my plane. Nothing long-term there, but a great vacation companion.

And now I'm home. On my way, actually. I'm on the plane typing on my iPad, listening to music and just feeling sick that my dream week is over. Unsurprisingly, I feel like I didn't get enough: rest, sleep, processing time, reading, surfing, CoCo's. Navy man. Sun. Sand. Saltwater. But I'm going to try to trust that I got just what I needed, and then trust myself that I'll be able to make up for the rest.

Mahalo, Hawaii. You always come through for me.

Why "Crisis"? Why Not "Party"?

2012-01-25T02:30:00.000-08:00

I'm still going through my mid-life thing. It's intense and all consuming and, frankly, not entirely pleasant. I was looking up synonyms for "pause" the other day, trying to come up with another word for menopause, which I can't even believe is in my vocabulary, and one suggestion was "coffee break".
. . . Also? Intermission, falling out, rupture, suspension system, and jailbreak. There was also a link to a resource that said, "What rhymes with this word?" It turns out thaws, gnaws, draws, straws, and flaws are all mono-syllabic cousins to pause. So I'm all set to have a cappuccino or write a rap song.

An Outcast

2012-01-24T23:59:00.000-08:00

I went to see a movie last week that unraveled me. Pariah is fantastic, and it helped me to realize that deep down I'm really an African-American lesbian. Just kidding. Who knows why things strike a chord with us, but that movie brought up so much for me, I could barely stay in my seat.

Trailer here; sorry for the advert. Go see it - you will gain so much from it.

GOOD News

2012-01-08T14:45:00.000-08:00

This is an article about Portland on good.com. I'm not sure about the article, but the comments are awesome. My favorite:

I'm from Seattle; and if Seattle is the big brother who is pressured to go to college and take over the family business, Portland is the little brother who gets to do whatever they want. We're America. They're Canada. As a result, Portland does has an air of "hedonism" to it--at least to this Seattleite. The food and beer scene are better there. The fashion is more avant garde. People just seem to enjoy the little things more.

I visited last month and remarked to my Portland friend: "What do people do around here [for money]? All they seem to do is eat and drink! So many cool bars and restaurants!"

And from an older article where "The People of Portland" were part of the "Good 100":

"They live in the only city in America where the phrase "urban-growth boundary" can be used to kick off cocktail-party conversation or, in certain company, as the anchor to a pickup line."

My favorite feature on Good? The People Are Awesome stories. Great when you start to lose faith in humanity. (Related: a nice site to browse after watching the Republican debates.)

2011-12-29T23:59:00.000-08:00

I'm doing better, don't freak out. It's tough being an existentialist. In my next life, I'm really hoping for hedonism. (Ok, fine, I'm already a bit of a hedonist.) Maybe I should go for pragmatism.

I've made a few resolutions already. I haven't put too much thought into the new year yet, god knows that's coming, but these have been bumping around in my brain for a while. Ready to wonder how old I am? Midlife crisis in three . . . two . . .

I want to learn to snowboard. I have doubts that it's going to be my thing, but I want to take a lesson or two and give it a shot.
I really want to learn to ride a skateboard. Fast. Like those girls (below). This sounds like the opposite of what I would enjoy, but I want to try it. How does one go about doing this? I'm not sure. I'll work on this and report back.
I want to readmorereadmorereadmore. Things that are not on my iDevices. Books and stuff. (Just kidding, that's an inside joke. I mean: books.)
I want to keep running. Maybe try for a 10k, which will be the farthest distance I will ever run in my entire life, I promise. But I love running (I actually jog, but can we just call it running? It makes me feel more athletic) and I want to keep doing it as long as my knees and hips will let me. A 10k would be a really big accomplishment for me. But most of all, I just want to keep going.
I want to date more. I started doing the online thing again a couple of weeks ago and had my first date in a while last Friday. Story forthcoming. But I want to put myself out there more. It's important.
I want to take more risks - in every way. Definitely physically and emotionally. I need to offend more people. I haven't had to apologize enough in 2011. I'm fucking around, but seriously, I've been too focused on being careful. I'm almost 41. What am I waiting for?

2011 was pretty damn rough, but I did ok. I grew a ton. I took a couple of fun trips. I invested in some very meaningful connections with other human beans. And I stayed relatively open to life despite getting bitch-slapped over and over. And over. For 2012, I would be incredibly grateful if I was lucky enough to get some of that stuff again. But more. I want more.

Things Fall Apart

2011-12-25T23:59:00.000-08:00

(I wrote this on Christmas but had a hard time hitting "publish". It still feels a bit naked, but I think I'm ready.)

A few days ago, I was looking at pictures of my brother celebrating Christmas with my nephews. The boys were ripping through presents, and my brother had done a great job of capturing the looks on the kids' faces the minute they tore away enough wrapping paper to reveal the gifts inside. Wide eyes, open mouths, hands raised in the air in victory. It made me think of how Christmas really is a holiday for children - being around kids at Christmas is about as joyful as it gets. It also made me think of how nothing is really going as planned and everything is kind of fucked up and broken down.

It was December the 23rd when they were celebrating, for one. And instead of being tucked away in a cozy house, their cozy house, they were at a McDonald's - a temporary meeting place for food and fun and weekly visitation. Still, I guess you - what is the saying? - play on the string you have, and in the pictures it looked like they really were having a great time. There are worse things than boys having a loving father they see weekly, and celebrating the occasional Christmas at McDonald's.

I had dinner with one of my BFF's the other night. It was our annual dinner out to exchange gifts and celebrate Christmas and her birthday (also on Christmas). We started doing that in 1992, so, with the exception of the years I was in Japan and New York, this was our 19th celebration. Crazy. New friends are wonderful, and I'd like more of them, but there's so much to a friend who has witnessed 19 years of your life and history. We had a great conversation for hours mostly about how life is really just a series of losses. Don't you wish you'd been there? We're both, to varying degrees, existentialists, and that makes our conversations unique. Uniquely comforting, to be honest. My BFF is in a place of acceptance, of flow, and I'm so damn jealous. She's experiencing a lot of happiness and personal freedom. I'm in a place of complete opposition to the natural losses of life, and, it probably goes without saying, constipated. In terms of energy and emotion and direction, I'm plugged up. I hate it when I act in ways that aren't congruent with my beliefs, but there you have it. When the waitress came to take our order, she looked at me and said, "Can I get you a glass of wine?" I guess it was written all over my face because she quickly follow with, " . . . Or maybe a jug?"

I talked with my brother tonight and mentioned how much I loved the pictures of his Christmas celebration with the boys. I hadn't thought through my comment, and was initially surprised when he became emotional. But, of course, it's Christmas and we were talking about his boys, now far away, and their McDonald's holiday. He said it was sad and awkward to pull out the presents and just go for it right there in the middle of the restaurant, and then I waited while he cried.

I eventually said that there are all different kinds of ways for a family to look, and even different ways for Christmas to look. And that I think everyone feels the pressure to have things look a certain way, and then feels the sadness when it doesn't. And maybe his family and his holiday celebration in the middle of McDonald's took the pressure off some other folks who were feeling the same way. He said that a little girl was peering over the booth at the boys' unopened loot and said, "Are those presents?!" And when my brother told her that they were, she said about her family, "We don't celebrate Christmas."

I haven't felt right since my Grandmother died. Maybe before. I feel highly disturbed by all of the losses, big and small, in life, and largely unprepared to face them. And so, of course, with unreconciled cognitive dissonance comes some sloppy dance involving rationalization, justification, and employment of various defense mechanisms. Lather, rinse, repeat. I feel like I've been saying this for a year, but I'm working it out.

Baby Chicks

2011-12-17T02:56:00.001-08:00

I'm up late working in Santa's workshop, trying to make up for my late start at holiday shopping. I'm hoping to have most of the packages I need to mail ready to go out tomorrow . . . I don't know if that's going to happen.

I've been feeling really sad lately about the burdens that people are carrying. So many of my chickens* at work are struggling with major, real problems, and I can see the stress and pain in their faces every day. It's breaking my heart. I want to lighten their loads and I can't. And hearing about layoffs and unemployment (which aren't even the types of problems I'm referring to with my work peeps) is almost too much to bear this time of year - and I don't think I'm going looking for this kind of news. It's just all around. It's such a different world. It's not impossible to find hope or joy, but sometimes you have to look pretty hard.

(I wrote this on the 17th of December and kept it in my drafts because I didn't know where I was going with it. I found it last night and wondered why I let that stop me - I never have before.)

*This is a term of endearment. There is no actual live poultry at my job.

What Else Can You Do?

2011-12-04T21:35:00.000-08:00

Todayis my first day off at home for three weeks. I've been putting a few Christmasthings out, getting laundry done, and doing a little baking. I've listened to afew RadioLab podcasts, but mostly I've just enjoyed the silence. It was a clearday here in Portland, and having the sun stream through the windows while Imessed around inside was a gift.

Ihaven't posted in so long! One reason I think is because I've been goingthrough some heavy shit and the ol' blog isn't very anonymous anymore. It is inthe larger sense, but I kind of miss the days when only the blogging peeps readit. I want it to feel like my space again, not a passive conversation withfamily or friends. I guess it's up to me to make this space what I want it tobe, but it's surprisingly tough.

Onto the updates.

Nephews: I've seen my amazing nephews twice this fall, and the second time was yesterday. I had 5 heavenly hours with them and we raced and pretended and swam and took a train ride. The little one, now 2, remembered me from last time (before that, he had forgotten who I am - which is hard to even type) and he was a sweet little love bug the whole time. The older one, now 4 1/2, amazes me with his beautiful personality and strong sense of self. He also acts like he's about 16, which kind of freaks me out. I love those boys more than life.

Work: I am still loving my job and am still waiting for the axe to fall on my department. I'm working on a really interesting project right now that you've probably heard about if you don't have your head completely up your ass. (I work for a big bank, and I love it. And I totally support the Occupy movement. And we, along with most of the big banks, paid back our TARP money plus interest years ago, so get your facts straight and move on.) I'm grateful to have a job I love, and I hope I still do in a few months. I need to cut back on my hours, but I'm trying.

Water: I went surfing most recently about a month ago on 11/9. It was a test run to see if I could make it out and back and still get to work only 2 hours late. (I work the afternoon shift.) I almost passed the test. My first wave of the day was really sweet - a longish, smooth ride; no fidgeting or walking around on my board - just chest up, wide stance, lots of gratitude. Everything from that point on was questionable at best. After about an hour and a half, I put my board up and just swam around for a while because I was too tired to pop up, but I wasn't quite done with the feel of the water washing over me. I'm DISCOURAGED about my surfing, and I missed the connection I had with Jules terribly that day. I just don't see how I'll ever get better - ever ride green waves consistently - living here (inland), not having a teacher, and having a job. I also felt really out of shape. I cried on the way home and wondered if I should hang it up. I don't think I was really close to doing it, but the fact that I was even thinking it was just an expression of my grief and frustration. I have a long way to go. In surfing and in life.

Travel: I recently spent a quick weekend up in WA with my Mom, and then went to NY for the first time since moving away in 2009 to be with my sister and BIL for Thanksgiving. Both trips were really nice, although it was a bit weird to be in NY, as that was such a strange time in my life. I did feel really lucky to be with family for the holiday. Looking forward, I'm trying to plan a few weekend trips to use a couple of free tickets I have, and then a bigger trip for early 2012. I just can't decide if I should do another surf trip, or if a solo, wandering city trip would scratch the itch. I've been thinking about (shhhh) India. I know it would rock my socks, but that's kind of what I want.

Fitness: I've been really inconsistent with my running for the past six weeks, and I have the extra 5 lbs to prove it. Add to that the 15 I already needed to lose, and it's time to get serious. I want to fit into my clothes, yes, but I'm more concerned about heart disease, diabetes, cancer, and everything else I put myself at risk of by being out of shape. Man, aging - and specifically for me, hitting 40 - truly has a way of making those risks real.

Once More with Feeling: I'm giving online dating another go. Or I'm trying to. I had a lot of fun last time around, and it's probably time to get over Huntington Beach, which has proven very difficult. I've traded a few e-mails with guys already and I think I can officially say there's going to plenty of blogging material in this.

Life: I have been missing my grandmother so intensely lately. It feels like a cut that won't heal. About life in general, I would say that I have been really busy alternating between grieving and avoiding grief. Both activities are serious business. I'm not usually such an avoider, so I don't know what I've been doing, but I'm going for the gold at it. I came across this poem (below) and can attest to the first part. I don't know about that second part, though. I'm skeptical.

Whensad, be really sad, sink into sadness. What else can you do? Sadness is needed.It is very relaxing, a dark night that surrounds you. Fall asleep into it.Accept it, and you will see that the moment you accept sadness, it startsbecoming beautiful. – Osho

Wanderlust

2011-10-24T00:24:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been having dreams about traveling. Before my grandmother died, it was nearly constant - almost nightly. And when I wasn't asleep and dreaming, I was awake and daydreaming. In the past few days, it's picking up again. It's always the same type of scene - me, alone, walking around in a brand new city, and the feeling or sense that I have in the dream is one of total connection with myself, excitement, peace.

The scene is always something from a trip I took to Europe in 2007. (Gawd, I blogged about it here, and before and after.)

Here I am at Wawel Castle in Krakow, Poland, freezing my buns off. That entire trip was a dream. And I've been craving the part of travel where I'm alone in a new place and I don't speak the language and I'm a bit lost and I am totally and completely at home with myself. I'm forced to be. The relative silence of being away from the familiar for a few weeks puts me in the company of myself and my thoughts, and settles me in ways I can't seem to make happen when I'm deep in my daily routines here at home. I am craving: being unsettled, unsure, unable to sleepwalk through my days.

In all these dreams, I just keep seeing myself walking down narrow, curved, foreign streets. I wake up feeling good, like just as I round the next corner, I'm going to find something important that I've misplaced. I'd pretty much figured that from here on out all of my vacations would be surf vacations. But I'm not sure this is something that can be satisfied with being in once place - even a beautiful place. For now I guess I'll keep dreaming mysterious dreams and try to pay attention to where they lead me.

At Least I Got Wet

2011-10-23T22:37:00.000-07:00

I went surfing today. I was too tired, really, but I know that my chances to get out are numbered as we head into winter. The conditions were supposed to be beautiful, about 6' with low wind, so I made myself go even though I wasn't sure I was up for it.

It turned out to be 6' with swells up to about 8', and it really was nice out. It wasn't very cold, although the waves had a bit of a bite to them and there was a pretty strong rip. You can tell it's autumn.

I did ok - I find I'm so lost when I go out lately. I'm not really charging with my front foot, so I end up in this shallow stance (feet close together) on the board when I get up, and then I shuffle my feet around trying to balance. It's pretty weird. I'm just working it out - it's what I've always done when I'm not surfing regularly - but it's irritating. I got a bunch of rides today, but nothing smooth or long. And one washing machine-type wipe out. I'm mostly hopping around on the board for a while and then falling backwards. Not exactly refreshing or restorative.

I got caught in a little rip today. Another guy did as well. He was taken out about 10 yards past where he wanted to go, I think, and I was being pulled out as well, but not as far. I kept my eyes on him to see if he was ok, but then decided to worry about my own self. That was a good idea, because I was starting to panic just a bit, and just pausing and refocusing on myself helped me to relax and go with the flow. I was back on track in no time - the ocean was just sucking up a lot of water to make a big, huge wave - but it did get my heart racing and convinced me that it was time to hang it up.

I missed Jules' instruction and companionship today. I thought about Ray from Hawaii, too, and still am resolved to finish writing about my lessons there. I'm talking with a friend that I met this year in Costa Rica about going back together next year - isn't that fun? But I learned more in two days with Ray than I did in over a week in CR. (I also think it would be fun to do a school in a brand new country - Nicaragua, maybe?) I'm resolved to go back to learn from Ray at some point. I definitely feel in a funk with my surfing; I'm just not getting better and not really seeing how I'm going to with how infrequent my sessions are.

But. It felt really good to walk into the water today and get on the board and give it a go. There's really nothing like it. So I'm going to keep trying.

And Now You're Up To Date

2011-10-15T00:07:00.000-07:00

I went to see Moneyball the other night - what a great movie. Besides that it was a great story and the acting was very good, I appreciated seeing Brad Pitt aging somewhat normally. He must be around my age, and he has lots of wrinkles and was using reading glasses. (Or his character was - but he looked like he's getting up there.) I don't keep up on many celebrities, but they all seem to look 21. Even when they're 60. Great experience seeing the show. I might just see it again.
I have a couple of free tickets on SW Air that I need to use up. I'm thinking it would be neat to go to NYC and attend a Moth Slam.
I'm in the second week of a six-week online class taught by Brene Brown and based on her research around shame and vulnerability. It's fantastic. (You probably know and love her from her TED Talk.)
I've been keeping up with my jogging, which has been really good, but I am developing some issues with my gluteus medius and iliotibial band. (I've probably brought this on myself by running around a track all this time.) Therefore . . .
I went to yoga yesterday. Wow! It felt great - I haven't been in exactly a year (since I started my job). Today I am sore in all the right places. In addition to hip openers, we worked on our shoulders. What in the name of all that is holy is the dolphin? Seemed mellow enough at the time. I woke up this morning feeling like I'd surfed for about 20 hours yesterday. My paddle muscles are screaming.
I'm also back to acupuncture for the first time since I started my job a year ago. I've only gone twice, but I'm back in love with it. What's better than acupuncture? Not much.
I've decided to stay put in my apartment. To say that it's not the right time for me to move is an understatement. That will be a tear-stained check that I write out for rent every month, but I am very grateful to be still in my cozy place.
On Wednesday I made 6 loaves of tuna salad sandwiches for the homeless center I was volunteering at last spring. I am not finding the time to volunteer there, so I asked to be added to team that provides the meals. It took about four hours start-to-finish, and I was reminded how much I hate tuna. But I set up my MacBook and played through a ton of podcasts and really enjoyed the afternoon. My turn on the rotation doesn't come around for another couple of months, so maybe the smell will be out of my nose by that point.
By the way, this Moth podcast totally captivated me -- it felt so close to my own story of changing direction in my career and learning to surf. I love this one.
After yoga last night, I had an impromptu dinner with friend Kerri Anne. I was: sweaty, stinky, sloppy, tired, weepy, worn out, worn down, and used up. What a gift to be able to show that side of yourself to a friend and have it be ok. We had a really nice time catching up.
Last Friday night I had dinner with a friend from my school program (the one I'm no longer in) and his partner. It was really great to see this buddy again - he was one of my favorite classmates. I asked all about school and his student teaching experience, and as I listened to how he's doing, I became more and more grateful that I'm not in school right now. My god, his schedule. I told him how proud I am that he's sticking it out, and that he'll be so happy that he is powering through, and that's all true. But I am feeling more and more happy that I am not. It's not right for me right now. Yoga and movies and running and acupuncture and sleeping in and dinner with friends. That's what I need right now. I'm very grateful for what I have.

Some Poems Are Never Finished

2011-10-14T23:59:00.000-07:00

My grandmother died on Monday. I don't know what to say - it happened very quickly. We are devastated. I have been beside myself with sadness all week. She was my last living grandparent, a miracle of a person, really, and I loved her so much.

I wrote my grandparents a letter, usually handwritten, every week for the last fifteen-plus years. I missed weeks when I got really busy, but I never let it go too long. I sent one last Friday morning before I knew she was sick, but it was probably still on its way to her when she passed away.

I haven't really begun to find the words to describe my grief. But this blog has become a record of all of the important events in my life, and I wanted to mention my love for her and the loss I'm feeling.

(Post title is from Jayne Cortez.)

Dropping In

2011-10-03T00:12:00.000-07:00

I got up early today and made it to the coast by 9:00 for a little surfy surf. It was so beautiful when I arrived. It's crazy how you never know - last time (and, hey, I still had fun) the waves were rolling sideways and backwards, and it took all my energy just to stand in the water. This time the waves were rolling in perfect lines, 4-5'; the intervals were short, but there was almost no wind to speak of. There were about 6 or 7 guys in the water when I arrived, but there were enough little breaks in the cove that we almost each could have had our own peak.

My wetsuit is pretty thin (4/3? 3/2?), and my gloves are just 1.5 mm, so I was pretty worried about being cold. (Actually, I don't mind being cold at all. I just didn't want to be miserable.) It turned out to be great - water temp was about 57º - it was refreshing. No ice cream headache at all.

I'm exhausted lately - all the drama with school, work, and the apartment has taken a toll. I'm being faithful with my runs (5k about 3 times a week, sometimes 4) but that's about all I'm doing. Even though the water was beautifully gentle, I was moving slow and only stayed out for about 2 hours. I never really felt totally centered - I had a couple of long rides, but I was super fidgety and noticed I was walking around on the board the whole time, and looking at the deck instead of head/heart up.

Still, the low wind and absence of current in the water convinced me to go outside, which I've done at least a half-dozen or dozen times in lessons, but I don't think I've ever done that by myself. And more than the conditions, there was a little peak at the north end of the cove that I had to myself so I didn't have to worry about being in anyone's way, which is really what keeps me from practicing on the outside most of the time. I paddled out (even though you can almost walk it here) and was freaking exhausted paddling through the calmish 5' sets 15 yards to the outside. Lame. But I did it a few times and went for a few "real" waves and caught two. One I kind of crashed on, and one I did pretty good on. I don't pop early enough, so I end up starting to ride down the drop on my belly, but I do get up before it breaks (I think) and, well, it's progress. That's a big deal for me.

Other than that, I just rode a lot of whitewater, worked on standing up straight, thought about life, and just kind of meditated the whole time. I loved - looooooved - being in the water again after . . . my god, it's only been two weeks. It felt flowly and slow-motion and cushiony and comforting. I planned on putting my board up when I got tired and just swimming for a while. But, as usual, I couldn't force myself to get out of the water until I'd used up every ounce of energy, and wasn't even sure how I'd hoof my board back up to the parking lot. So when I was done, I was done.

I thought about Jules today. And my job. I thought about control - how surfing requires you give up every single thing you think you know. What else is like that? I thought about the reasons I came to surfing in the first place. And I thought about being 40: this weird time in life when I guess you realize you didn't grow up to be a rock star/professional basketball player/super model. I remember having lunch with a great coworker in NY several years ago, and he was telling me about a conversation he had with his teenage sons. He was telling them that they could be anything they wanted to be when they grow up, and he said to me, "So, I guess, I was lying to them." I remember being surprised that he was so cynical. But I was in my 30's then, and still wet behind the ears :) Now I understand what he meant. I thought about all of that today, and more.

I feel impatient and disappointed with where I'm at with my surfing. Here we go into another fall/winter, and the opportunities to surf will dwindle. All morning I wavered between frustration that I'm not further skill-wise, and being pleased at my adventure on the outside. It's fun to go head-first into a wave. Even with one pearl and one washing-machine experience today. Ray from Rockaway Beach was right - even a small drop looks like 20 stories from up there.

That's all I got. I guess it sounds like a mixed bag, but I was a happy, happy girl today.

I Think I Can, I Think I Can

2011-09-25T23:14:00.000-07:00

So just to review, I quit school to focus on my job until the economy gets better, and as soon as I did that (like, literally while I was withdrawing from school) I received news that my job appears to be ending.

That was a rough week.

And then this happened: I received my lease renewal notice last Monday. Of course, I knew this was coming and had already made plans in my budget to handle two possible rent increases. One estimated increase was big but realistic, and the other possible increase was if my landlords wanted to be total a-holes. But moving is expensive, so I made plans to accommodate either. And then you know what happens next. The increase was exactly twice my high estimate, which puts the new rent for my two-bedroom apartment at almost $1300/month. Srsly.

So now I'm moving. Because everything else in my life is really stable, so why not move? I've been looking at apartments all week on my lunch hour and all day yesterday and today on my weekend. Such a stinky pastime. Why is every apartment manager a snotty 13-year old girl? And please, the next time you are looking to move, do yourself a favor and avoid online reviews of all apartment buildings. The last review I looked at encouraged cross-referencing the county homicide map with the complex. I couldn't resist, and sure enough - murder she wrote, right there in that very building.

I guess I had an outdated idea of what normal rental rates are because everything in my goal range has been kind of skeevy, and I can do a lot of things, but skeevy isn't one of them. So then I decided to try for a one-bedroom instead of a two, but I pretty much abandoned that today. I have a lot of stuff plus a 10' surfboard. A one-bedroom place isn't going to cut it.

I'm going to look at one more place tomorrow and then try really hard to just pick from what I've seen. It's only been a week, but I'm tired of the process and I want to make a decision so I can put this behind me. I hope that's the right thing to do. I can make just about any non-skeevy space comfortable and sunny and feel like home.

The whole school/work/apartment thing has sucked some ass; I'm not going to lie. But here are some good things:

I went to acupuncture, glorious acupuncture, today for the 2nd week in a row. I haven't done that since before school started - over a year ago.
It's really, really, really nice to not do homework before work, after work, on my lunch hour, and all weekend long. I love not doing homework.
I used to go to yoga. Remember? That's another thing I haven't done even once since school started a year ago. It hit me today that I can do that again if I want. And I think I do.
I've been reading. Books and stuff. Did you know they make books that aren't about the cognitive development of middle schoolers? Me neither.
I'm running 3 or so times a week, which feels really good. I've lost a couple ounces. That can't be bad.
I enjoyed the hell out of that three-week summer we had. I mean, Hawaii. And all those days by the pool. And a few weeks ago I went to a party with new friends and had a total blast. So there's that.
The apartment thing kind of effed this up, but I'm going to get to go up to Seattle to see friends at some point soon. I haven't been able to do that for ages. Why? You guessed it. School.
I put a few things up in my Etsy shop. Guess why? That's right. Because I had time. (Those pictures are horrible. I haven't had *that* much time.)
Remember all that fun I had dating last summer? Conceivably, if I could get my act (and my ass) together, I would have time to do that again. That's a goal of mine for relatively soon.

I feel off-kilter and wonky and, I'm not going to lie, a bit depressed. But, I don't know, some good things have happened, and more good things are probably in store. It helps to remember that.

Surfing in Oregon

2011-09-18T20:36:00.000-07:00

It was supposed to be about 5' with 10 mph winds, and I guess it was, but you couldn't really tell what was going on because it was so rainy and crappy. My plan on Saturday was to get up early and go for a little surfy surf, and to spend the time on the outside working on dropping in because I'm a big girl like that since my Hawaii trip. But there hardly was an outside - the entire ocean looked like swirly whitecap soup, and the waves were rolling in every direction with about 2-3 seconds in between them. Total crap.

Naturally there wasn't a person in the water when I pulled up. I looked at the ocean long and hard; there was a long line of surfers all doing the same - we were up in the parking lot looking down on the cove. I haven't seen water like that since the middle of winter. It was pretty bad. I started weighing the frustration of turning around and driving home without so much as putting a toe in, versus the frustration of suiting up and sloshing around for a couple of hours and then driving home without having gotten anything. Ultimately, I decided that I had to try.

The last time I was in the water was in Hawaii. There the process went like this: grab a board, walk across the street, walk into the water, jump on your board and paddle. Here in Oregon, for me, surfing is this whole ritual. I load up my car the night before. I get up early, grab some food, and head out. It's an hour and a half drive (and it really is, now that I'm not speeding anymore) listening to mellow music, thinking about life, wondering how the session will go. I get to the cove and make the final decision. Then it's this long suiting up process - an extra layer underneath, stretching neoprene around every curve and angle, hair in three rubber bands. Especially that part - when I sit on the back of my CR-V in my bathing suit in the chilly wind and see people walk by in full winter gear, and I start to pull my wetsuit over my toes and up my calves, it feels so much like a meditation. There's some kind of wicked muscle memory there or something because every time I do that I drift away and go to my happy place. Or maybe I'm physically at my happy place, so the feeling is just a byproduct of being really alive and grateful.

Then it's board on head, and down the trail, and stash the backpack, and check the wax, and leash on ankle, and wade out into the water to see what happens next. I love every part of it. Yes, I can surf until I'm tired in Hawaii or Costa Rica in the time it takes me to just get to the ocean here. But I love surfing in Oregon.

While suiting up, a class of beginners went out, and I was glad because it's never good to be in the water alone, and no one who knew better would be going out that day. I thought I would be irritated by the temperature -- I got so cold last fall and winter, and I never use a hood -- but I did ok, even with the wind. There was a strong pull north, and I spent most of the time fighting to keep from drifting, or just trying to stand. But I got a couple of rides in, one pretty good one in particular, and that felt great.

It was such crap out there, but I was really happy to be in it. In the end, I decided what I always do - that I needed just one more good ride before I could leave. And then I spent the next 45 minutes moving around the cove looking for anything rideable that could qualify -- at one point I even just lay down on my board pointing toward the shore waiting for a gust of wind to push me in. But it didn't happen.

Eventually I got my wave, and it was white (they all were), but it was enough to give me a nice, long ride - my best of the day. I made my move, stood up, realized it was going to be a good one, and slowly put my arms up in the air in victory. Then I stood up straight so I wouldn't curve left so hard, took a few baby steps further forward and left the weight on my front foot (the "gas"), and looked up at the sky and trees and felt grateful. When it started to slow down and pumping didn't help, I fell backwards and grabbed at the leash on my ankle in one motion. "Good enough for me" I said out loud.

It was a really wonderful, crappy day surfing.

Class Dismissed

2011-09-14T00:30:00.000-07:00

What a clusterfuck the last week has been. School started last Wednesday after a tiny little (3 week) summer "break". I was dreading being back, and not even sure I could handle the 4 hours of lecture on the first night.

It was really fun to see my peeps - this crazy group has become a family to me. We all hugged and chatted about what we'd been up to since our last class in the beginning of August. One of my classmates even had a gift for me: he painted a small picture of a woman surfing at the coast. Isn't that incredible? Another classmate admired my bag (which was one I had made), so I offered to make him a bag or a padded sleeve for his laptop, just for fun. Well, who knew, but he said that he makes knit caps and beanies, and offered to make one for me in return. So cool. I can totally use that when I surf in the winter -- having something to put on my head while I'm messing around putting my board on my car and stuff. I really love this group.

We settled in and our Advisor began the lecture, and I was sitting there wondering if I should shove my pencil in my eye . . . until about 10 minutes into the lesson. And then - and no one is more surprised than I am to say this - it all came back: the excitement of learning, the hunger to understand, the desire to grow, the love of the material, everything. I love learning to be a teacher, and I love preparing to teach kids.

Let's fast forward because I can't handle the build up, and I've already gone through the whole damn thing.

Because of finances, I made the decision to withdrawal from school two days later. It SUCKS. I hate it. There were meetings and conference calls with Financial Aid and budgeting and a lot of tears. The school was willing to really work with me, but in the end: the economy is in the shitter, I love my job, and it's just not the right time for me to abandon a good job to start student teaching in the hopes I will be able to someday find a teaching job. Super tough, but it's the right decision.

Monday morning I walk into work wondering when and how I should tell them, and instead get whisked into a meeting and informed they're cutting our department by half. Who and when? We don't know. Oh no they didn't.

So I just feel emotional and exhausted and like I'm on motherfucking candid camera. Honestly, and this is hard for me to admit, postponing school is the right thing to do. But, really? The job news on the heels of that decision? Did that need to happen?

I sent my classmates a note letting them know why I won't be in class tomorrow, and I've been receiving lovely, loving responses back all day. It's been really nice.

So one chapter ends and another one begins. I don't know; maybe my job will hold on, and maybe good things will come. I can do this, I know I can.

A Start

2011-09-12T10:19:00.000-07:00

I want to write about my time surfing in Hawaii before it fades from memory. I went out immediately upon arrival - dropped my things in my hotel room and rented a board to paddle out at Waikiki (across the street from where we were staying). It was a really small day, like 1-2', and it was packed. I did some good paddling and went for a couple of waves, but not much was going on. Or I should say, not much was going on for me. Some people have the muscles to do something with 1-2'. I do not.

I felt discouraged immediately because of the crowds, but more than that, the reef. We're blessed with a soft, sandy ocean floor here in Oregon, and the sharp, ubiquitous rocks and reef that surround the island make it hard for a beginner to play around with confidence. Luckily, I have no shame and no ego around my surfing (I think that's what happens when it takes you 9 months to stand up), so right away I decided to book a couple of private lessons. I wanted to really enjoy some water time.

I went with a school that taught at a break right there at Waikiki (although away from the crowds) so I could minimize travel time. I called the school and just said - hey, I'm not a total beginner, but almost, and they set up me up with Ray, 38, from Rockaway Beach, NY. Let me tell you - the surf gods were watching over me that day because Ray was a rock star. And we had a blast.

If the Sky That We Look Upon Shall Tumble and Fall

2011-09-11T12:59:00.000-07:00

This song is overdone for me, but I found this version incredibly moving - today more than ever.

Playing For Change: Song Around the World "Stand By Me" from Playing For Change on Vimeo.

Details

2011-09-05T23:33:00.000-07:00

I feel like writing about mundane stuff right now. I read a book, I watched a movie, I went to a show. I don't know if I'm trying to capture the little things that make up my life, or if there's something to it that helps me keep the bigger things at bay. The bigger things are questions without answers, but these individual components are ordered, specific, measurable.

I'm trying to get through movies that buddies at work are assigning me because they're aghast that I haven't seen things like Kill Bill or The Big Lebowski. This brought to you by the same gentlemen that suggested Fight Club. (Please.) I say they get one more chance, and then I'm back to watching Parenthood and Step Into Liquid over and over.

I went to see Hall & Oates at a charity benefit the other night. I was a mild fan in the 80's, and the setting for the show was fairly intimate, so I thought I might have fun. I did - it was a great time; such beautiful voices and such an iconic sound. My favorites are Wait for Me, Rich Girl, Family Man, and Say It Isn't So, but I recognized and enjoyed almost every song. It's all so 70's and 80's. Also, Everybody's high on consolation? Swoon.

I met a friend at the Farmer's Market on Saturday, which was such a pleasure. Yummy tamales, fresh veggies, Ruby Jewel ice cream sandwiches - all outdoors, sitting in the sun. It's the first time I've been to the market this year, I'm ashamed to say. I'll be back soon.

Google tells me that today would have been Freddie Mercury's 65th birthday. He's a hero of mine, and I love any reason to put on my favorites (including Somebody to Love and Save Me). What a talent.

I dusted off the sewing machine finally this weekend and made a cute little messenger bag complete with a flap and everything. I need some webbing for the shoulder strap and then I'm done. I'll post a picture when I finish.

I've spent a ton of time lately napping by the pool or doing lazy laps. The sun and I get along very well.

I'm also reading for the first time in forever. It feels so good. I'm currently working through West of Jesus by Kotler, which I've been eyeing for some time, but I've avoided because it has the word "Jesus" in the title and I have no interest in crazy. Some review or something finally convinced me that I do not think that word means what I think it means (get it?). Either that, or I just got really desperate for another great surf book.

Well, this is one great surf book. Right now he's trying to describe how surfing is just different, and he says that in a recent Australian census, 70k people listed their religion as Jedi. And how, when he was trying to figure out how to ride a tube, an experience he likens to walking on the moon, a friend gave him the Yoda-esque advice: "Do or do not. There is no try." He says, "And, perhaps stranger still, not thirty seconds after I had been told to do or don't do, I did."

That means so much to me. The book is totally capturing the mystic/voodoo/unexplainable part of surfing that I love. And the author's experience of improving not through skill alone but through the shedding of resistance is something I can relate to and that is helping me believe that maybe I can continue to improve as well. It feels great.

Band of Brothers

2011-09-04T23:33:00.000-07:00

I bet it's something about getting older, but I have been really getting into history in the last year or so. And perhaps you'll understand how little I know about it by the use of the phrase "really getting into history". I had a big credit at Amazon, so I purchased a ton of books and some DVDs, and I just finished the DVD series Band of Brothers. Now, the Google tells me this originally aired in autumn 2001, so that means I'm exactly ten years behind. That sounds about right.

I have loved this series. Loved it. I'm just starting the special extra whatevers that come with DVDs, and I bawled through the interview portion tonight. It's so fantastic. I think there must be something about brain development that allows for me to understand the context of events when I never was able to before. I don't know; I couldn't be bothered with trying to figure it out until now. Maybe the magic ingredient is just aging.

I have a hard time finding two hours in a month for television, so this has been an unexpected indulgence. I ordered The Pacific and a few Stephen Ambrose books to get started on next.

If you've been living under a rock for the past ten years as I have, quick trailer here. (And now to lose any credibility I may have had: Ladies, Berger from Sex & the City is in it!)

Overflowing

2011-08-28T23:03:00.000-07:00

Why must vacations end? I've lived in my bathing suit for the past ten days, which is something I love doing. Do you think work would mind if I showed up in that and my flippy-floppies tomorrow morning?

Last night I returned from 9 days in Hawaii. Life could be worse. On the flight home, I was doing some journaling and shedding a few surprise tears, and I realized that I had cried on both the outbound trip last week and on the return flight. Last week it was because I'd put several Sex & the City episodes on my iPhone to pass the time and I'd included the episode where Carrie's computer crashes and Miranda's mother dies. My god, that's a good episode.

Last night my tears weren't as easy to trace back to a single source. It could have been my wonderful vacation coming to an end, or saying goodbye to my BFF, whom I truly love, or listening to Joni Mitchell and her heartbreaking honesty. Maybe it was the book I was finishing (I can't wait to tell you all about it), or it could have been the book I was starting; both deep, amazing stories that engulfed my soul.

It was probably a combination of all those and more, but the image I kept coming back to in my mind was of me and my surf instructor for the week, Ray, sitting on our boards, the top of my board resting on his, secured by his hands, my back to the horizon and Ray facing me, keeping watch, Diamond Head to my right, sun beating down, feet out of sight but keeping a slow rhythm of motion . . . simultaneously waiting for and experiencing perfection.

The vacation was great and so was the surfing. To be honest, so were the tears on the plane on the way home. I think sometimes you just have so much feeling happening that it squeezes out of your eyes.

More to come.

Forgive Me, Kelly, For I Have Sinned.

2011-08-13T22:05:00.000-07:00

It's been 7 weeks since my last surf.

It was hard to convince myself to go today. The report said 2-3', and you never know if that means closer to 1' or 4'. I decided to chance it and had a really nice afternoon - it was about 3 - 4' with some bigger sets, and the water packed a real punch. (I need to stop trying to block waves with my head! I have a knack for placing myself exactly in the impact zone.) I messed up the timing with the tides, but it worked out totally fine.

I was shocked when I first pulled into town -- it was mobbed. I guess I haven't been to the coast on a summer weekend for a long time. My work schedule used to give me Fridays off, so I would always try to avoid surfing on the weekends. I stopped by the surf shop to say hi to the owner and got a big hug right when I walked in. I can't tell you how much I appreciated that. He immediately said, "It's a zoo today. Park there (gesturing to one of the four or so parking spaces they have at the shop) and suit up." While I was putting on my gear, a woman around my age or (god, I hope) slightly older started talking with me. She and her husband are from B.C., and they had rented gear and were headed up to my regular spot. She asked if it was my first time surfing, and I said no, but that I'm a beginner. She said, "Today is my first time." What could I do? My response was, "Well, this is going to be the best day of your life."

The shop owner told me to avoid the cove because of the crowds, and he had me leave my car and just walk a bit to another break. I was scurrrred! I've never surfed anywhere in Oregon but my little cove. But I went for it -- great location, but much more public than I'm used to, which freaked me out. I had to do some serious self-talk, but it was worth it.

So here's the thing: Not one other person was in the ocean as far as I could see. No one. Gorgeous sunny day, people were actually sun bathing (damn, that water was cold, though - instant ice cream headache), and I was literally the only person, surfer or other, in the water. NUTS! I'm telling you -- this is why I can't imagine learning to surf anywhere else. After about 1.5 hours, 3 kids with boards got in the water about 100 yards away from me. That's it. Amazing. (But I can guarantee you that cove was bursting with surfers, SUPs, and kayaks.)

I had a good time today. I had some good, long rides - smooth, curvy, scootching up and down the board. Beautiful hanging out, too-good-to-be-true, long rides. I went for a lot of green and got only one small one -- I cannot figure out green waves and it's really tough. I took a lot on my belly and knees (at least, until the wipeouts) and it helps to do that to get the feel of them, but I just can't take the drop on my feet and figure it out. I don't know; I know it doesn't taking "figuring". I've been here before. But it's really frustrating me.

I surfed for a while and then paddled way out, past even where the green waves formed, and just floated. It had gotten glassy in between sets and the sun was beating down -- it was so beautiful. I was sitting on my board, just trying to process some heavy shit I've been going through, but things kept bringing me back to the present. Either the sun reflecting on the water, or a couple of times a perfectly round head popping up 10ish yards away from me (! - a sea lion was surfing with me!) -- something would cause me to lose my train of thought and come back to the present. Over and over. So I would just watch the water and feel its rhythm under me and stay in the moment. It's really one of the many gifts of surfing: an inability to be anywhere but right here, right now.

When I was finally done, I huffed it back to the surf shop, board on head, and was met by the owner. He asked how it was, and I asked why in the hell I've been dealing with the crowds at the cove this whole time. He said, "Yeah, we keep this spot to ourselves." Consider my mouth shut. Awesome day gets better? He showed me the secret warm outdoor shower he has around the side of the shop and told me I could use it. I mean, honestly. My "shower" usually consists of me dumping a gallon of water from an old plastic milk jug over my head, à la Flashdance, in the parking lot at the cove. Nice to drive home less of a mess than usual.

It was a really beautiful day and I feel like my little heart hasn't even grasped the beauty of it. I'm super grateful to have gotten out today, and for the kindness of the shop owner.

Surrepetitious

2011-08-09T00:10:00.001-07:00

I'm not going to lie, 40 is a bit of a bitch. It's not even bad; it's just so damn confusing, I don't even know where to begin.

Also, this: I thought the hipsters had ironically brought Blood, Sweat & Tears back to iTunes' Top 10 Albums of the Week until Sizzle informed me that is just the title of an album by some rap youngster. Jesus. So damn confusing.

Third Time's A Hot Mess

2011-07-16T19:22:00.000-07:00

Thanks to a boatload of stress, I had all night last night to try my hand at a third skirt. I was so impressed with myself right up to the point where the whole thing turned out crazy, but I'm still glad I tried it and I'm going to keep trying.

This one had six panels that went into the main part and then a yoke with interfacing for the waist. The hem was supposed to be just folded, pressed, and sewn, but I used red double-fold bias tape to make it extra sassy (and because I realized it was going to be way too short but didn't have dark brown bias tape). I had to totally redo the waist because the pattern was made to fit an hourglass shape, and I'm a good inch smaller in the waist than the bust and hips (read: straight up and down). And to top it all off, it has a side zipper. This was no "Sew E-Z!" like the pattern said, but I think I did pretty good. Even if I can't wear it and it's totally wonky.

Next up: a child-sized messenger bag, hopefully some sleep, and definitely homework, if I know what's good for me.

Surf and Other Stuff

2011-07-15T14:42:00.000-07:00

I went surfing the last Saturday of June. It was heavenly - sunny and hot. I thought that meant it was another no booties day, and I tried hard for about 30 minutes to make it so, but it wasn't meant to be. I had a great time and left a piece of myself in the water that day -- I played around for a few hours, got out to eat a protein bar, and got in and did it all again. I took some baby greens, walked around on my board, and at one point was so anxious to scoot up that I ran right off the end of the board while I was still on the wave. A bit bittersweet, but it was a great day. What's better than surfing? Nothing.
In just over a month, I'm headed to Hawaii for 9 days with my BFF. MY GOD, I am looking forward to that time. We've done this trip a few times before, so we're experts on exactly how we like to do it. I can't wait.
I couldn't be more over school. I can't figure out if the entire industry is totally backwards and inside out, or if I'm just really done with being in school. I don't know. We have a brief break in August and I'm going to use it to do some thinking.
Work is pretty much fun. It's a little complicated, but fun.
I don't know about this whole sewing business. I think I'm going to put a few things on Etsy, post here that the shop is open, and see what happens. But - and I don't know if this is just being a perfectionist, or just liking to do things out of enjoyment and not out of having to - I like sewing for myself and for friends more than the thought of sewing to sell things. We'll see. Maybe if I make some cash to support the new-found and expensive fabric habit, I'll start to like it more.
I like blogging and reading blogs, but I'm enjoying other forms of social media less and less. I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me.
I'm back to running. Can I say that if I've only been consistent for about 2 1/2 weeks? That's a lifetime in running-consistency for me. I'm slower than I was last year, but I'm doing it 3 - 4 times a week, 3 - 4 miles at a time. I'm really enjoying the whole process. I change into my running clothes at work and go straight to the track. It feels good to breathe in the night air, and if it happens to be a (very) rare warm day, it's cooled off by the time I'm starting.
This weekend is a three-day weekend for me because I'm switching from Sun - Thurs to Mon - Fri for work. It's a good thing, because I have about a billion hours of homework to catch up on. So right now I'm sewing. Natch.

Nourishment

2011-07-05T23:25:00.000-07:00

The last few days of 80+ degree weather - not a cloud in the sky - has me wondering if a good part of the shit-tastic time I've been having hasn't been the constant greyness. Just like a plant, I need sun to live. And I've finally gotten a nice, big dose of it.

Now I just need more. A lot more.

I've been doing some sewing this week, trying to get a few items ready for the Etsy shop, and I put together this fab bag with the organic bike fabric I love.

Notice anything? The #$^%@# bicycles are upside down! Ugh! I rarely work with directional fabric, so it didn't even cross my mind until I was done with everything but the top-stitching. Now what the hell do I do with it?

My buddy Sizzle came down to Portland this weekend and we got a chance to hang out and do some catching up. We had about 5 hours of non-stop gabbing, and honestly, I could have done with about five (hundred) more. I haven't had the energy to deal with humans lately, but Sizz requires no energy. It's come-as-you-are, and that's something I can do. Our time together was good for my soul.

Here we are trading pictures during mani/pedis:

My schedule is changing a bit at work (actually, everything is changing a bit at work; corporate reorgs: I'll NEVER miss you), so I'll no longer have my gorgeous Fridays to myself. My weekend is going back to Sat/Sun like the rest of the miserable world. Tonight I got off at my normal time (9:00 PM; I work evenings and love it), and got home around 9:30 after a stop at the store. I guess it was just the beautiful night air, and also the feeling of not wanting to just succumb to the normal work/sleep/work/sleep/work/school/sleep routine, so I slid into my swimming suit and went to the pool to feel alive.

I did laps for a while and then lay on my back and floated, looking at the planes or whatever in the sky. It actually reminded me of a trip I took to Guam years ago where I did that for hours - just floated around in the ocean with my ears submerged and everything silent. (Christ on a cracker, here's a brief post about it. I've been blogging for a long time.) Tonight I only stayed in for about 20 minutes, but it was silent and dark except for the pool lights, and peaceful. I feel like it's been the dead of winter for over a year. I can't say how badly I've needed this.

Wonky

2011-06-27T09:58:00.000-07:00

I had my 4th sewing class last Friday and the task was a bias-cut skirt. Now. I've been super stoked for this class because it was supposed to be a really simple pattern and I envisioned myself making a bunch of easy, cute skirts for myself for work after figuring out the first one with the instructor's help.

Yeah, not so much. I don't know; the shape is kind of funny and the bottom serged hem didn't turn out very good. I did put double-sided elastic around the waist and that went great, but the whole thing just didn't come together in reality like it did in my head. It was disappointing.

My teacher was a garment designer in NY -- I've had her a couple of times now and she's very patient. In response to my skirt she said several times, "It's ok. It's like the first pancake." Isn't that hilarious? And you guys have seen my pancakes (not a euphemism).

I guess I just use fabric I'm not in love with and try it again and again until I get better. Not exactly how I'd hoped it would go, but sewing does seem to have a pretty quick learning curve. (I say that even though I've made 1,000 of those zipper pouches and I still can't get the zippers right.) I guess everything seems to have a quick learning curve when you take 9 months to stand up on a surfboard.

Still making my little creations, still working on the Etsy shop, still enjoying the colors and textures of different fabric, still having fun.

Grumble, Grumble

2011-06-25T09:13:00.000-07:00

I'm over my professors saying the following to me:

No need to take notes today; I'll send you these slides.
You don't need to write this down.
Hey, really: don't worry about writing this down!
No need to take notes today!

We're in a teachers ed program; every class is basically about how different people learn in different ways. I can't pay attention or retain information if I'm not writing. Can they please shut up and/or get therapy for their control issues?

(Brought to you by 3 hours of sleep, a bad haircut, and class on a rare sunny Saturday.)

Thank You, New York!

2011-06-24T23:59:00.000-07:00

It's about damn time.

Give Away Results

2011-06-23T01:01:00.000-07:00

I used random.org to pick two people to make bags for, and it came up with commenters (from this post) 5 & 7. That means A Thirty Something and Bigezbear get their own handmade, uneven, crazy little bag from me.

Please e-mail me your mailing address, which type of bag you'd like (zipper or draw-string), and if you have any fabric preferences -- I have most of what you see below and some other kinds, too.

Thank you for helping me practice! If I find more bags that need homes, I'll start at the top of the commenters and work my way down the list. Thanks for reading, guys :)

10 Myths About Introverts

2011-06-22T23:59:00.000-07:00

I found this on Kottke, but it comes from a guy named Carl. As soon as I read it, I sent it to two of my bosses and two of my direct reports with a note that said, 'This is my instruction manual." Is it too long to get tattooed on my forehead?

Myth #1 – Introverts don’t like to talk.
This is not true. Introverts just don’t talk unless they have something to say. They hate small talk. Get an introvert talking about something they are interested in, and they won’t shut up for days.

Myth #3 – Introverts are rude.
Introverts often don’t see a reason for beating around the bush with social pleasantries. They want everyone to just be real and honest. Unfortunately, this is not acceptable in most settings, so Introverts can feel a lot of pressure to fit in, which they find exhausting.

Myth #5 – Introverts don’t like to go out in public.
Nonsense. Introverts just don’t like to go out in public FOR AS LONG. They also like to avoid the complications that are involved in public activities. They take in data and experiences very quickly, and as a result, don’t need to be there for long to “get it.” They’re ready to go home, recharge, and process it all. In fact, recharging is absolutely crucial for Introverts.

Myth #6 – Introverts always want to be alone.
Introverts are perfectly comfortable with their own thoughts. They think a lot. They daydream. They like to have problems to work on, puzzles to solve. But they can also get incredibly lonely if they don’t have anyone to share their discoveries with. They crave an authentic and sincere connection with ONE PERSON at a time.

Full list is here.

Learning

2011-06-19T23:50:00.000-07:00

I'm in two classes right now, although one ends soon and that will leave me with just one until our brief summer break in August. One class is on middle school curriculum and the other is on teaching history (content pedagogy). It's no secret that I've been disappointed in this program (and if it is, then I need to complain more), but dare I say it? I love these classes. Especially the one on content pedagogy. I LOVE it! It's taught by a very young gentleman who has been teaching middle school for 4 years. This is his first time teaching grad school. When he introduced himself in the first class, I almost laughed out loud, but I quickly realized that Sensei knows a thing or two. It's fantastic. He's fantastic. The last few classes have been killing me softly - to the point that I've been wondering if I took a seriously wrong turn somewhere. But this class has me feeling like: this feels right.

For the past week, I've been listening to my textbook on audible (how do we say this now? I almost typed "book on tape." Jesus.) while cutting out fabric for projects. It is so relaxing and fun. I leave my Mac Book open so I can type quick notes as I listen, but other than that, I go about my business, engaging my hands and my mind.

(Side note: as I'm fully absorbed by the mid-life crisis I'm having, I have to mention that I don't know how, but this process is helping me. Something about mid-life feels like a tiny relief. You really do get to stop caring about a lot. I don't know exactly what's going on, but I appreciate that it doesn't all feel like shrinking or grief.) (Side note to the side note: my new hair dresser is about to turn 29 and she had the nerve to tell me she had her "mid-life" crisis at 25. Isn't that cute? I didn't punch her when she said it. I thought I had my mid-life crisis at 25, too, until the real one started. Mon dieu.) (Last side note: my new hair cut is just ok. She took a ton of hair, which is good, but I was hoping for something a little more edgy. My new look firmly says: Soccer Mom. Crap.)

The text I'm listening to is so wonderfully subversive -- so radical -- that occasionally while listening I start looking over my shoulder and wondering if I may get a knock at the door any minute. The book is Lies My Teacher Told Me by J. Lowen, and it will rock your world. Must read. Now. But don't count on ever being able to sit down for another Thanksgiving dinner afterwards.

Last night while listening to Lowen describe Helen Keller as the die-hard socialist that she was, I tried another zipper pouch. I love the fabric, but man, I messed up that zipper. I cannot seem to figure those out.

Tonight while learning about Christopher Columbus, the Jew, I decided to cut out several tote bags and iron on the interfacing so they're almost ready to sew. Could this material be cuter? That one with the bikes is organic, and it's so soft that you immediately want to strip off all your clothes and wrap your body in it. Or so I've heard.

This is me working it out. It's going pretty good.

Give Away

2011-06-17T12:54:00.001-07:00

Awesome Venn diagram from the amazing Indexed, as usual

I'm having fun making my little bags and pouches, but I'm collecting quite a stack! I'm trying to practice enough until I feel comfortable putting the finished product on Etsy (voilà!), and it's taking longer than I thought it would. I was thinking that anyone who would like a zipper pouch or draw-string bag can leave a comment, and after a few days I will randomly pick a couple of numbers, and whatever comments the numbers correspond to, I will make bags for those peeps. I think I'll need to stick to the those two types of small bags because the large ones are too expensive to make and I don't need as much practice on those as I do on the others.

Here's what they look like: zipper pouch, drawstring bag

Here's what I can promise you:

I'll choose any kind of cute fabric I have (you can tell me if you have a favorite color or something)
It's all washed, high-quality cotton, and some of it is from Japan
I'll make it sometime in the next month, although I think it'll be in a week-ish
I'll mail it to you, so it's totally free
There may or may not be a little surprise in it (chocolate, lint, something)
It might be big enough to hold your iPhone and keys, or it might not
I have a lot of bad habits but none of them are smoking, so it will be made in a smoke-free environment
It will have mistakes and not be perfect (just like me)
It might look weird or be uneven
Maybe it will fall apart; I don't know

Thank you for helping me practice!

The Now

2011-06-16T23:59:00.000-07:00

I watched a movie tonight. It's so unusual for me to do that, but I did, and it was the third movie I've watched in the last two weeks. It's felt great to sit long enough to watch a movie. Actually, I think it's that it feels good to watch a movie and have my mind engaged and not racing on a million other stresses. They're still there, but I'm mellowing out a bit. There's just too much to worry over; I maxed out and decided I can't keep up so I'm just letting it be. It's a relief.
The three movies I've watched recently were: Annie Hall, Raising Arizona, and Fair Game, and I enjoyed them all. I think Sean Penn is my favorite actor, and it's saying something that I would have a favorite actor. In my opinion, "famous" is another word for mentally ill, and I have no interest in celebrity of any kind. But I feel moved every time I watch something he's in. It was fun to relax and watch that tonight.
I'm getting my hairs cut tomorrow. I'm so ready.
I hate exercising all of a sudden. (Ok, not all of a sudden, but it's bad lately.) Man, I gotta get over that.
I've been dealing with something really difficult the last couple of weeks - Jules and I have parted ways. So hard. I think she's amazing and I have tremendous respect for her. If you're in Oregon and you want to learn to surf, she's the only option. So now is the time for some pretty deep sadness for me. I've taken a little break from surfing, which is difficult, but I'm doing ok and I'll be back at it at some point soon.
I don't know where I found this on the Internets, but I like it:

PS:

The dentist appointment went fine. What was I worried about?
The maintenance man came to fix my dryer this morning and decided to check the washer when he was done. He told me it's broken and hasn't been washing my clothes; it's just been spinning them around. Fun. I wonder how long I've been wearing dirty clothes!

Also, Toast

2011-06-15T01:39:00.001-07:00

Under The Influence

2011-06-12T00:35:00.000-07:00

I am quite stoned tonight. I have a pretty intense dentist appointment on Tuesday and the doc gave me some pills she said she'd like me to use recreationally before the appointment to see how they affect me. I think it's safe to say they do the trick.

So I was thinking just light sewing tonight (after I got time out by the pool and a ton of homework done) since I had some new tunes courtesy of the amazing Jeni Angel. So I made this little draw-string pouch:

It's kind of basic, but I think it turned out pretty cute. Great to put treats in for a care package, or maybe use a small one for an emergency chocolate stash in your desk.

Then the drugs kicked in and I had even poorer judgment than before, so I started making another bag. This one is smaller than the last:

That's about all for tonight. I was going to try to watch a movie but I think I'm totally baked at this point. What's my name again? Good night.

Creating

2011-06-10T23:57:00.000-07:00

You know how sometimes things just fall in line? When everything in life is going pretty great and it just feels good? That is not happening at all.

So tonight I hung out with a great friend who just *gets* it, and then I came home, put the homework aside, and decided to sew.

I love my new bag, but I also wanted a smaller version, like the Japanese bag I carry every day. So I got the Japanese bag and measured it:

Then I put on some Meaghan Smith:

And then I got to cutting, ironing, and sewing. Guess what I came up with?

I was so pleased. It's almost an exact representation of my Japanese bag. How did that happen? And look at this cute fabric up close:

What a relaxing evening. I needed that :)

In The Bag

2011-06-09T08:23:00.000-07:00

Project #3. This time I took a class to make a bag. Something about it being sunny out and the fun group of women in the class and the Tina/Dolly/Barbra mix in the background made it a particularly fun time.

I noticed a really strong, awesome girl power-vibe that morning. I ordered lunch from the Tin Shed (holy hell, San Fran sandwich: call me) and when I walked a few doors down to get it, I saw a truck right outside of the sewing shop with a huge pile of gravel that was being unloaded by two muscle girls. Walk a few steps and I see a woman dressed to the 9's doing business on her cell phone leaning up against a (probably vegan) boutique shoe store staffed and filled with young, confident-looking women. Next door was a community garden where a group of, you guessed it, women were making things beautiful. That seemed to be the theme of the day. I got my food and when I walked back into Modern Domestic, Tina was belting out a song and my classmates were reminiscing about sewing-related injuries (nothing wimpy here; think needle-in-the-eye and rotary blades over multiple digits). No boys in sight. The whole day was really fun.

Here's the process: Cutting.

Sewing. Right-sides together always feels wrong.

Straps and top-stitch.

Herro.

Finished product!

Summer Waves

2011-06-05T01:46:00.000-07:00

I surfed with Jules on Friday and it ended up being a really amazing day - the first great session of the season, and maybe my best session ever in terms of my learning curve.

I've mentioned before that the summer waves are just different from the waves any other time of the year: 4' in summer is more of a soft (not always gentle), rolling wave. 4' in the winter has teeth. It's hard to describe, but there's a difference. And when Jules and I waded into the water, I immediately said, "It's summer water!" and she agreed.

I had an early lesson (9:30) that day, and I was set on using Sally (my 10' board) anyway, but it ended up being necessary because it was really small - maybe 3'. (Smaller waves = bigger board.) It was hard to get used to her again, and I wasn't exactly graceful out there, but it did feel good to be on my own board. After a handful of attempts and a couple of rides on the inside, Jules and I paddled out.

The weather was beautiful - I didn't even use my 1 mil-ish rash guard. The sun was shining hot and it actually felt pretty good to be in the water (and not like risking hypothermia like it usually does). The waves were so small that it was really tough to find anything to dig into, but I made several attempts. And the waiting during the lulls was awesome -- just Jules and I sitting on our boards, listening to the silence, watching the birds and the horizon, waiting for waves.

The few I took out there were so crazy -- I know 3' isn't that steep, but it feels like such a big drop when I'm headed there face-first. I went feet over head on my first ride, and immediately felt discouraged. I told Jules that I just don't know how that will ever feel natural, how I'll ever understand the timing and be able to be on my feet early enough to go down even a tiny face. When I'm laying on the board, the minute the nose is lower than my feet, I freak.

I have to say, Jules was so patient -- not really with me, but with the process. Sometimes she seems like she doesn't have a worry in the world about whether or not I'll eventually get it. I'm ready to pack it in and Jules is totally calm. It's like she can see around a corner that is totally blind to me. She tells me that it just takes practice - doing it - and that eventually I'll be able to feel when to paddle, when to pop, where I'm at in the wave. And her confidence - in the ocean? In the process? In me? - did something to me that day, and I started going for it on more and more waves. We ended my lesson with me getting a few good rides, a few baby greens, and then Jules went off to teach another lesson.

I was pretty tired, and I had planned to get back to town early so I could get some homework done, but it was too beautiful to quit that day. Jules's bf paddled out, and encouraged me to surf with him. (You guys - such a cool guy and so fun to watch surf.) I got out for a few minutes to refuel and decide whether or not I should stay, and ending up going back out -- sans booties. It was that nice out. My plan was to get another few rides in with my feet directly on the deck until it was too cold to continue, and then I would go home. But it was so awesome that I ended up spending another couple of hours in the water, the whole time without my booties on!

My board didn't have enough wax, so I took some flying leaps off that thing, skidding right down it and straight off the front end. But I got bolder and bolder, and had more and more fun, and ended up going back and forth between the white water and paddling out. I got several awesome, long, curvy rides where I practiced balancing, scootching, and making micro-turns. That felt great. But the best thing was that I was just doing it -- I went for a ton of waves, maybe 1/2 green, and I wiped out over and over, flinging myself and my board all over that cove, from hell to breakfast. But it was awesome, and even in just the time I was doing that, I felt the process get more familiar. I felt less fear about the face-first thing, and slightly more comfortable and aware of the timing on green waves.

In the time I was out there screwing around, Jules actually finished her lesson and then paddled out with her bf and me. I watched them take waves when I wasn't trying myself, and it felt great to be out there with friends. Jules's bf eventually went in, and Jules and I hung out for another 30 minutes or so, just enjoying the hot sun and talking about how surfing can change your life. Yes, it can.

I don't know what to tell you. No monster green waves, no hanging ten, no major breakthroughs. But I really went for it and remembered again, for the first time in a while, that surfing can be such pure fun and that totally botching it over and over can be progress, too. All of that and no booties! It was a really great day in the water.

Rough

2011-06-04T21:38:00.000-07:00

I went out with Jules last Saturday and again yesterday. What a dream. Summer is coming and the surf is finally semi-consistent; no more going three months waiting for a wave. (At least, not until autumn.)

Last Saturday was funky. I was still trying different boards (courtesy of the surf shop) and I'd taken the 9'2" out again. In our beach talk, Jules and I had a ton to catch up on - it's been so long since we've worked together consistently. It ended up being kind of a crap session for me - I just couldn't find my groove. I do much better now on the 9'2" than on Sally, my 10', but I was just feeling kind of over being on borrowed boards. I told Jules that I needed to figure it out and either get a new board or get back with Sally, and she said I was becoming a surf snob. Me? A snob? Inconceivable. But that wasn't it -- it feels so good to work with the same board. All I can say is that each session is like investing in a relationship, and riding a different board each session made me feel like I was wasting time building a relationship with a board I'd never see again. (Jules suggested I think of riding the 9'2" as an awesome one night stand :) I slid around a bit and did ok, but it was too big to go out (and by "too big" I mean way too big - I swear it was 8' with 10' swells) and I couldn't find my groove on the borrowed board even in the white water.

I ended up forgetting I'd have to return the board and in frustration I wrote an obscenity on the deck with wax. When I took it back to the shop, I hung my head and told the shop owner what I'd done (even though I'd mostly covered it up with more wax). He said, "Come here, LSL" and gave me a big hug. He said he'd never been so proud of me. A week later, he's still stoked on my potty mouth and said the curse word is going to become my new nickname. Gawd.

Driving to the coast that morning before my lesson, I was listening to Cat Stevens (part of my latest surf drive mix) and thinking about how s-h-i-t-t-y life is lately. I was thinking about what I'd learned in a previous session, and was just noticing that I'm still in such a damn hurry to just get where I'm going. And actually, I don't really care about getting where I'm going; I just want to avoid where I'm at now. It sucks. But I had a thought while driving in, while I was focused on all of the resistance I'm feeling -- resistance to being 40, being single/without Huntington Beach, being overweight/out of shape, being in the middle of this ridiculous career change. I thought, what if the resistance is part of the process? I wondered, what if resistance is not something to be avoided or gotten over, but an important part of the process of getting where I'm going? If that was the case, I might be able to let up a little, not feel quite so much like I'm wasting time but more like there was possibly something important to learn from this difficult place I'm at.

Honestly, if you want to know what I was thinking about, I was thinking of my cat. JJ has a meow that is so irritating; I swear that one of these days I'm going to video it and slap it on the blog. I love that cat and we've been together for about 15 years, but some days he won't stop with the meowing and I want to put him in a box with holes and ship him to Uganda. But that morning before I left for the coast, he was meowing and meowing and meowing, and I was thinking: I guess that, no matter how irritating it is to me, if he's doing all that meowing, he must have a message he wants to get out. He must have something to say. And that's what I was thinking about when I was driving in -- that my resistance lately has been incessant, and that maybe I should stop trying to put it in a box and ship it to Uganda.

When I got to my lesson I told Jules what I'd been thinking about during the drive -- not the cat part, but that maybe instead of rushing to get rid of the resistance, I could consider viewing it as important, like a messenger. Maybe there was something I could learn from it. Jules agreed wholeheartedly. She said I should invite resistance in, get to know it, fix it lunch.

So of course I spent most of the lesson wondering what I would make Resistance for lunch. I was pretty hit-and-miss on my rides. Afterwards I told Jules that I wanted to focus as much as possible on getting my timing down on green waves, and that I wanted to paddle out every chance we got. So that's the plan: paddle out every session, make resistance lunch.

Help!

2011-06-03T20:36:00.000-07:00

Velocity Vectors is creating a logo for my non-existent Etsy store (I decided to go with LSL - it's just easiest), and I received the following 5 mock-ups. My sister and Sizzle like #3, but since the idea is that eventually the shop will feature things I've sewn, I like #1. Will you guys please give me your thoughts? :)

She Was A Showgirl

2011-06-01T23:25:00.000-07:00

Meet Lola.

She likes 70's music, extra dirty martinis, and long walks on the beach.

Yes, Lola arrived today. I went through hell and highwater to retrieve her from the delivery company, so our relationship seems to have started out on a contentious note. I have no doubt she'll make me earn every small victory I have with her.

This is what we did tonight:

I wish the fabric was clearer -- it's all Japanese and so cute.

You can't tell, but the lining of the bags are orange triangles, fluffy blue and white clouds, and yellow polka-dots.

And this is how the dining room area looked when I was done:

Not quite up to my usual standards, but I was pooped by the time I finished. (FYI - I didn't drink out of the bottle. I was just holding my glass as I took the pic.)

Plan B

2011-05-31T22:05:00.001-07:00

I went to "open sew" last Friday night at Modern Domestic, the awesome little shop where I'm learning to get crafty. My previous post detailed my plan - basically, have fun making little pouches and try my hand at an Etsy shop.

Here they are in the early stage . . . no one told me there was so much ironing in sewing.

Here's the dining room table at home - getting ready to pin the zippers in.

Back at Modern Domestic to face this thing:

In the middle of making two little cuties.

This is called a "seam ripper" and it's the instrument you use to undo "Oh shit" moments. I had several of those that evening.

The finished product - 3 little guys.

So I learned a lot that night and one thing I learned is that I'm not great at this! But I did have fun and I am enjoying the inspiration that comes from being around different colors and textures and just creating something.

I think the new plan will be to just practice and keep having fun until I get a finished product that I feel good about putting out there. I did decide to get a beginner sewing machine to practice on at home, so that little number shows up tomorrow. I think she's going to fit in around here just fine -- and I already have a name for her. More updates to come.

Project

2011-05-24T23:59:00.000-07:00

I took my second sewing class last Saturday. My mother is an amazing seamstress, but I was never really interested in learning from her when I was younger. I guess that's how I ended up at 40 having never touched a needle. And I think at this point it's safe to say I am not a prodigy.

The idea was - actually there were a few ideas:

to make cute pouches because I use them all the time to store little things and I've bought a ton of them
to find something new that I have fun doing, to learn something new
to make a few to sell on Etsy if I have fun making them and am not terrible at it
to do something I'm not very good at to get me out of my comfort zone

Everything is going fine except that last thing. That last one is going great. I am *so* not good at this. But I am having fun, and it's nice to be trying something new. Plus, and I keep saying this, I'm already turning into my mother - why not just speed up the process?

I'm going to "free sew" this Friday night (does that sound like a rockin' time or what? I hope there's wine involved) and if I get a few decent zipper pouches made, I do think I'll try my hand at an Etsy shop. So now I just need a name. Any thoughts? Sizzle and I were thinking about Onshore Creations. Maybe something having to do with sewing, or any of my other "hobbies" like surfing, travel, something Japanese, or maybe something about Oregon. Ready? Suggest.

Be Here Now

2011-05-22T23:55:00.000-07:00

I've been obsessed with surfing lately. I'm watching surf movies, I'm reading surf blogs, I'm falling asleep covered in surf magazines. I think about it all the time - remembering the lessons it's taught me, wondering if I'll be able to improve. I think about those first few steps into the water, and no booties day, and long, smooth rides.

Last week I was thinking of a session I had with Jules late last summer. It was after the EPIC SAGA of me getting to the point where I could actually stand up on the board, and I had been riding pretty consistently for a few months. After how long it took, it's crazy to think of sessions where I was up on my feet taking nice rides on every try, but that's just about where I was. After doing that session after session, I asked Jules, what happens next? Now what?

I was certain that my curiosity, my drive to learn would be rewarded with a little glimpse of the Next Steps; that my question would cause my Sensei to reveal the next section of the map.

Jules' reply, and I think this is verbatim, was, "That's the sickness of the human mind."

I honestly thought she had heard my question wrong. I just looked at her until she continued, saying that we're always thinking about the next thing, the next steps; we can never just appreciate where we are and what we have and just be.

I went surfing last Friday. I'd been looking forward to it all week. The awesome shop owner let me take out another board to try (seriously - no charge; I just walk in and walk out with another board. Is this what family feels like?) It was an 8'6" and what a thrill to start a ride with my toes hanging over the bottom edge. I've never done that before. It's not hard to pop (I mean, that's still a whole lotta board), but I had a hard time finding my footing on the deck -- always too far back, which puts on the "breaks". I had a couple ok rides, nothing amazing, and a lot of fun wipe outs, including a few front-somersaults. I always like those because I feel like those mean I can leave a session feeling like I really gave something - it's easy to fall off the board, but it takes a special effort to lose myself to the degree that I completely spaz out and catapult myself into space. In public. Csikszentmihalyi would approve.

The technical part is this: I felt better on the 9'2" than the 8'6", but I'm having a hard time thinking of laying down money for a whole new board for 8 inches. (My current board is a 10'.) For some reason in my mind, I'd rather buy an 8'6" because maybe I'll be challenged by it longer. (Like, forever?) In Costa Rica, they were going to move me from a 9'2" to an 8'6" the day before I left, so that makes me think I'm ready. But in CR, they were short boarders teaching us to eventually short board. Here my peeps are lovely, luscious long boarders. When I returned the borrowed 8'6" on Friday, I told the pro working the shop that I liked it but I wasn't sure what to do. He said, "No question. Go with the 9'2"." The other part is that I think some of what makes me hesitant to really go for it out in the green is the mammoth-ocity of my board. The 8'6" just feels like less to get smacked in the head with.

(This just in: That entire paragraph is some crazy-ass shit. Three years ago if you would have told me that in May of 2011 I would be debating what to go with for my second surfboard, well, I would have said, "That's the sickness of the human mind." Just kidding.)

The non-technical part is this: Jules was right. She's still right. I am having a hell of a time right now because I have no interest in just be-ing, in sitting with the details in my life. It's like my life is a dodgy acquaintance I'm constantly trying to lose. I hate to be another 40-year old having another mid-life thing, but: this isn't how I pictured it. I know, I know, but it's not.

I'm working it out. That's all I can say.

My Little Tomato

2011-05-21T00:15:00.001-07:00

Probably the hardest thing for me this past year (in a year where many things have been vying for that title) is that I no longer see my two amazing nephews very often. Life got complicated for them quite early, and I don't know what else to say. I think we're all doing the best we can.

Older brother turns 4 in a week. It's hard to believe that's true. I've seen him for a total of about 5 hours since he turned 3. But I do know that he is healthy and strong and growing fast. And I'm grateful for all of those things.

I was at my Mom's over Easter weekend and the boys call her occasionally so I was able to talk with them for a few minutes. Being 1 1/2 and almost 4, they're not very interested in long conversations, but hearing their sweet noises were enough. (And by "enough" I mean, thank you thank you thank you thank you.) At one point, their mom whispered to older nephew, "Tell Mimi you got the picture of her surfing!" (I write them letters and send them pictures, material that may or may not contain various surf propaganda, so they won't forget who I am.) And he mimicked to me, "Mimi, I got the picture of you surfing."

And then I could almost hear the lightbulb go on and he said, "Mimi? Do you surf?" I said, "Yes, I do" and he repeated, even more incredulous, "Mimi, do you SURF?" "Yeah, honey. I surf." He repeated that 3 or 4 more times just to make sure. "You SURF, Mimi? Mimi, you SURF?"

That conversation was short but oh so sweet, and when I could tell he'd had enough, I said (contrary to every fiber in my body), "I'm going to let you go. I love you. Bye, sweetie!" And he said back to me, con mucho gusto, "Bye, sweetie!"

A week or so later I received some pictures in the mail of the boys, which was amazing. Both kiddos are bigger than I remember them. I hate it that they're growing up without me. I just have to believe there will be a time at some point in the future when I will be in their lives again.

For now I look at old pictures over and over and over again, and I have a few little videos I play when I can handle the avalanche of sadness they bring. I also read my blog posts about them and try to remember better times. Not one day goes by that I don't think of their great giggles and little hands and unique, individual personalities.

So happy birthday to my Little Tomato. I've prayed for you a thousand times and I'll pray for you a million more. Healthy, happy, kind, strong, beautiful nephews. I love you both.

A Short Story

2011-05-18T23:59:00.000-07:00

I'm not enjoying school. If you know me, you know that's so weird. School has learning and office supplies, and I really like both of those things. And besides being weird, putting this much time and effort into something I'm not enjoying is really counter to my belief system, so now I've got some cognitive dissonance going on up in here. Double dislike.

My cohort is all starting our student teaching in the fall. Fall is a part-time student teaching gig, and spring is a full-time student teaching gig. That means the official recommendation is that we all quit our jobs sometime before Thanksgiving this year. And then we'll just be hoping to find teaching jobs the following school year, and if we do, our next paychecks after this November will come at the end of September 2012.

Please do not get me started on this, but the summary is: that's not going to work for me. (Seriously -- who is this gonna work for? My 12 year-old classmates who still live with their parents? But see, now I'm about to get started, so anyway . . .)

Tonight my professor stayed after our class (that ended at 10:00 PM) and we talked for an hour about a few options I may have. The options aren't great and I struggle with the prof's style and I don't know if this whole thing is going to work out and I can't quite believe I'm the first student in history that needs an income to live.

But I appreciated her time very much, and I know a little more now than I did before, and I guess all I can do is keep trying to figure it all out. It might work out and it might not. I'm just going to keep trying to ask for help when I think I need it, and in the mean time, I guess I'll hang out here in the grey.

The end.

(Great Venn diagram illustration comes from This is Indexed. All the great Venn diagram illustrations come from there.)

Teach Me How To Dougie

2011-05-16T23:59:00.000-07:00

"We've waited too long for a First Lady who can pull this off."

From Kottke - who describes the significance of the clip thusly:

It's not just that Michelle Obama is the first black First Lady. It's also that she was born in 1964. She's sixteen-seventeen years younger than Hillary Clinton or Laura Bush. She was in high school when hip-hop broke. Even Barack was already in college. She probably did a few of these dances in a South Shore parking lot when her husband was already thinking about getting into law school. In Joshua Glenn's generational scheme, Barack is part of Original Generation X, while Michelle's firmly in the next cohort, alternately titled Generation PC/the Reconstructionists.

Michelle is the first First Lady of the hip-hop generation. And not only does that explain a few things; it's incredibly awesome.

More where that came from. And a special note: I've never heard of the Dougie, the original Beyonce song, or the Beyonce video they're imitating.

One more: Michelle is gorgeous, isn't she? I love her.

Mini-Break

2011-05-14T23:59:00.000-07:00

I had a really nice day today pretending that I didn't have homework or any other care in the world. It went something like this:

I took a back way from my house to get to St. John's and felt like I'd found a secret passageway. Shhhh.

First came the foot soak and scrub.

Then came the massage. It was really heavenly, and I know my way around a massage.

Next up, a surprise run-in with one of my favorite breakfast places. NE has really changed since the last time I lived here.

Then I arrived for my class. Nervous. There were only four of us and the teacher was young and hip, very nurturing, and just a touch sarcastic. Perfect.

You don't scare me. (Well, you do a little.)

There are so many tools involved. Who knew.

A ridiculous amount of folding and ironing went into that beautiful hem.

Again with the tools. This will make the corners turn out properly.

I don't have a full view of it to show, but it looks great! The fabric is facing the right direction and those seams are something to write home about. (The ironing that goes into seams! Mon dieu!)

And finally, the annual trip to my favorite running store to replace my shoes. They were fantastic, as usual. It was a good reminder that I need to refocus on working out regularly.

And then I came home and did homework until 2:00 AM to make up for it. Totally worth it.

Soul Food

2011-05-07T22:19:00.000-07:00

I had class for 8 1/2 hours today (you heard me), which was super disappointing because I'd been wanting to go to a craft fair that was in Portland for today only. I've been trying to figure out ways to inspire some creativity in my life and I thought that visiting several of my favorite Etsy peeps in person would help. Unfortunately, last week I found out we had class all day, and when I asked my professor if I could be just a wee bit late coming back from our lunch break, she said no. Hrumph. I've been bummed about it all week. But last night as I was packing my crap up in my bag, getting ready for class today, I realized that I'm an adult and it's a free country. So guess what?

I went to Crafty Wonderland today and had so much fun. I think it was my first craft fair. There was a good amount of, um, stuff I'm not really interested in, but there was a ton of original, beautiful, inspired things, too. I loved it. I zipped through on my lunch hour (and a half, or two) and saw a lot of deliciousness. My favorite things were paintings/drawings, little bags made of cute fabric, ceramics, and fine papers/stationery. It felt great being around so much color and so many pet projects that had a lot of heart.

I don't know if it will help me find my inner creator, but I'm really glad I went.

(Yes, Sizzle, that's Rachel Austin's booth!)

Desperately Seeking Csikszentmihalyi

2011-05-06T02:17:00.000-07:00

I had a lesson with Jules last Saturday. It's crazy, isn't it? Back in the water with Jules. You can imagine there was a little bit of catching up to do during the beach talk (it's been since December).

I told Jules about life and Costa Rica and being 40. She caught me up on the basics of what's been going on with her, although, as usual, her story was just my story (and my story, hers) in different packaging. And then we hit the water.

There are two versions of what happened next, and I guess I want to get both down so when I look back I'm not tempted to disregard the depth of my ability to bullshit myself.

One version is that we got in the water and I really struggled to get used to my beautiful board again. I did ok in white water, switched to green and got pounded - never even really got outside - and then tried a smaller board inside and did pretty great. It was a good day in the water.

The other version is a little different. I don't think it's totally going to make sense, but I want to try.

Jules and I spent some time in the white water in an attempt for me to find my groove on my 10'. I told her I'd ridden a 9'2" in CR and that they'd taught me a totally different stance and all that. I took a bunch of rides and I was all jacked up; it felt so weird. I'd ride in and come back out to Jules and we'd kind of look at each other and she'd go, "Ok." She said I was just looking really mechanical and that I didn't have much flow. She's say, "That's ok, try another" and give a few words of encouragement as I hopped on and took off. I'd ride in and then come back out and she'd say, "Ok. I noticed your left hand stayed on longer than your right" or something. And I'd say, "Yeah, ok. Ok." and I'd try it again. It was weird. Definitely no flow.

I started telling Jules more about CR in the downtime in between sets. I've had such a hard time figuring out what I feel about CR -- it was an amazing experience, but the surfing part left me pretty empty. So I started describing it to Jules in between rigid, mechanical rides, and as I was telling her, I was really figuring out what had been going on down in CR for me. Finally. I was really putting it together and thinking of a bunch of stuff I wanted to journal about, and it felt like finally having some clarity after this month-long haze. Relief. My problem down in CR was centered around the instructors and how inflexible they were with this whole 1, 2, 3-step learning process. Plus they'd started the first lesson of the first day telling me I had some bad habits to break, and that just really didn't sit right with me. You can imagine. Add to that absolutely no beach talks whatsoever, and I was starting to be able to verbalize what was so weird about my time in the water there.

Part of what I'd explained to Jules was that my entire goal for CR was to learn to surf on the outside and for whatever reason, I never even got on the outside once down there. Finally at the end of my vacation, the day before I left for home, my instructor told me he thought I was ready to go outside the following day. I thought, "Great, pal. I leave tomorrow." So I was telling Jules how disappointing that was, and how important it is to me now that I'm back home that I don't come to another Oregon winter without being able to surf consistently outside (surfing in the deeper water). I said that I just want to schedule a bunch of lessons and do whatever it takes this summer to get a certain comfort level so I can at least paddle out during the shitty, once-a-month-if-we're-lucky sessions next winter. And I asked Jules what she thought it would take for me to be able to get there.

Why do I ask questions like that?

It's something about turning 40 and trying to make this massive, ridiculous change in my career, and all the family turmoil that's been going on, and the changes my body has gone through this past year, and maybe mostly about me turning 40. It's about acceptance. Acceptance of being me, being 40, being here before I can get there . . . wherever there is. Accepting the shallow water before the deep. Accepting the whitewater before the green. Accepting the empty before the full. I wish I could say my discomfort and lack of connection in CR was the fault of the instructors or anything else, but I know better. I don't know how to be where I'm at right now. I don't know how to stop turning away from myself. I don't want to be where I am and that shows up first in surfing -- the thing I do in life that requires more than anything else that I show up and start from where I'm at.

So I guess green waves will come. But not before I accept the white. It's tough -- I can do the white, but that's not what this is about. It's not about mastering or performing. It's about accepting. Accepting the level I'm at that I don't want to be at anymore. Accepting the things in my life and about my life that I don't appreciate, don't want, wish weren't true, ignore, pretend, and hope will go away. I would guess that it's no mistake that I don't often find myself in a place where I don't know how to do what it is that I want to do. But here I am.

Surfing, this is why I came to you in the first place. Please teach me.

Three to Remember

2011-05-06T01:43:00.000-07:00

Same session as the post above, but I don't want to forget these things from my time with Jules:

Early in the day Jules mentioned they'd had a rescue the day before -- someone got caught in the rip and was carried out past the rocks on the outside of the cove. I was dumbfounded -- I've only been on the outside a handful of times, but we use the rip to get out every time, and sure it's tiring, but you paddle out and then rest a minute and you get your strength back. I just wasn't understanding how someone could get caught and carried out to the point of needing a rescue. And THEN we paddled out. The report said 7-8' that day, but it looked about 100' to me. My god. I couldn't even really get out. I kept getting tossed off my board, so I'd get back on and try again, remembering to paddle directly into the wave on my way out, and there was just no way in hell. Twice I caught up to Jules, who was sitting on her board watching the horizon, and we'd realize (she before me) that we weren't far enough out, so we'd see the wave start to crest and we'd lay down and start paddling straight into the wave. She'd make it and I wouldn't -- I'd see her feet go over the massive lip from right underneath before it pounded my head. I did one perfect turtle roll and then gave up even attempting to hold my board. I just held my breath and ducked under water while the wave broke so it wouldn't snap my neck (it probably couldn't have, but damn, I felt stuck), and then I'd come up and find - there I was again, right in the impact zone. I'd have time only to take another big breath and go under to avoid the weight of the water. I felt my leash pulling on my leg and was relieved my board was at least 10' away, but I took about 8 successive waves like that - from under water with only enough time to come up for air in between. Sucks ass. And is scary. I was just starting to wonder if I was going to panic when I felt the ocean floor with my feet -- I'd been carried all the way in without even knowing it. What a mess. And an hour earlier I'd been wondering how in the world some idiot had been in need of a rescue. Jules came inside to see if I wanted to try to get outside again and I was dumbfounded. I told her I couldn't have tried to get outside again if I'd wanted. After that first attempt, if Mr. Great White himself had been two inches from my nose I couldn't have paddled one more time. What a lesson. Jules told me her partner says it's like a bank, and you have to know how many paddles you have in the bank before you go out, and you always save some paddles just in case. What a good lesson for me. I was tired after that one - the effort and the fear took it out of me.

I'm wondering about finding a smaller used board because I just find my big, gorgeous baby so cumbersome to deal with. The awesome shop owner let me take a 9'2" out with me (just let me take it - no charge, no nothing) that day and I spent some time on it after my lesson. It was slick (I didn't wax it and it needed it) and not very wide, and the rails were pretty thin, but it felt frickin great. I got used to it way faster than my own board, and my last ride of the day was just one long, sweet, curvy, juicy, love song to life. No one is more surprised than I am. Maybe it's a fluke - we'll see. I'd like to try an 8'6" next time and see how it feels, and then maybe ask the owner to keep an eye out for me for a good, used board. I feel kind of silly thinking about getting a second board when I'm such a beginner, but I can't deny that 9'2" felt amazing. So I'm just playing around for now.

I want to remember beautiful Jules in the water opposite of me, talking about aging and trying to find a solid place to anchor me to. She said, "You know, forty isn't what it used to be. It really isn't." It is frozen in my mind as a picture of a tiny miracle - this gift of one minute of total awareness: my 41 year-old surf teacher talking to her 40-year old student, both of us in wetsuits in the freezing Oregon ocean, me - willing myself against all reason to learn how to slide on water, and her - opening her chest and baring her beating, bloody heart in the hopes it will teach others they can do the same. You're right, Jules. Forty definitely isn't what it used to be.

You'll Be Fine, Partner

2011-05-04T23:59:00.000-07:00

I'd be surprised if this isn't the most effective suicide prevention campaign in my lifetime. Enormously important work Dan's doing. Nice job, Google.

Gone

2011-05-03T01:30:00.001-07:00

Not much has been happening in the news lately, so I thought I'd share the latest in my little life. Huntington Beach and I made the split. In essence. It was the most mature, caring, sensible parting of ways I've ever experienced, and I hate it. Detest. I'm miserable, lonely, empty. I've only been mentioning HB here for about the last six months, but he and I met over two years ago the very first week I moved back to Portland. So there wasn't much of the health problems, time off from work, lazy summer, learn to surf, extended job hunt, decision to become a teacher, going back to school, painful work transition, turning forty experience that I didn't share with him. In the end, I think I let heinous family stress do us in. I didn't know how to stop it. It doesn't really matter because it's the right thing, but if he so much as opened the door a crack I'd rush back in and lap up every ill-fated second.

Rest

2011-04-25T18:32:00.001-07:00

When I am foolish enough to leave home for a few days, I pretty much always come back to little piles of throw-up strategically placed around the house. Oh, it's strategic. Trust me. (The cat.)
I spent a quick weekend up in Small Town, WA, with my Mom. We had such a nice time taking little walks and relaxing in the sunshine on her deck. We talked and played Scrabble and wondered how she got to 63 and I got to 40. It was a really nice visit.
I slept better at my Mom's than I have in six months. Every night. I didn't even know that kind of sleep existed for me anymore. Honestly, I think it was because school and work were hours away and I couldn't have done much about either even if I'd wanted to.
The final leg of the flight home was holy hell. I think I caught the pilot on his first ever flight. My GOD, just cancel the damn thing if it's going to be like that.
I signed up for a beginner sewing class. I'm going to make a pillow :) I don't know; my Mom is a really amazing seamstress and she has all kinds of lovely things around the house. Also, I got a kind of obsessed with these cute little bags on Etsy and now I want to know how to make them.
Fifteen years I've lived in Portland and not one day has the weather gotten to me. Until now. I am OVER IT. I need sun. People aren't supposed to live like this. For the first time in all these years, we finally have the weather that everyone thinks we always have. And it rots.
On Wednesday I finish a literacy class (that I've liked). I just finished a small paper for that class, and now I have a big project I'm working on that is due that night. On Friday I take a two-hour, state-required civil rights test. Next Wednesday I have a pretty big paper due for a practicum (that I've hated). It's why I've been volunteering at the homeless Center, which I have coming up 3 nights next week (5 1/2 hours a night, after I get off work) as well. I just finished reading 2 books for those two classes - The Glass Castle (which practically gave me PTSD) and Zeitoun (which convinced me that every New Orleans resident must have PTSD) - and I can't freaking wait to be done with all this bullshit and just go back to one class at a time. This winter/spring term has been a bitch.

It took 40 years, but I finally beat her. (And then she promptly put me in my place. No surprise there.)

At Home

2011-04-19T00:53:00.000-07:00

I surfed today. I surfed. I surfed without anyone telling me what to do or how to get better. (Ungrateful little shit, aren't I? I love you, Costa Rica. Call me.) I can't believe I surfed today. It was amazing.

I felt pretty nervous going into it. I've gained some weight, so I was pretty sure I was going to split my wetsuit in two, or maybe get barred from the ocean altogether for looking very un-surfer-like. I also worried about conditions - what if I made the drive only to find the swell had dropped? With intense family drama, insomnia, strife with Huntington Beach, staff expense reductions (oh no they didn't) at work, and coming out of four simultaneous classes at school (only because I couldn't get my shit done on time), I honestly would not have dealt well with a wasted day off.

So I woke up waiting for the sky to fall every step of the way this morning and it didn't. I suited up, waiting to feel bitterness over having to wear a wetsuit when all those kids down in Costa Rica don't have to . . . but I didn't. I hoisted my board on my head and brought her down on the sand, and then I knelt by her and applied some much-needed wax. I put on my leash and waded into the water, having finally picked out a good spot to start in.

The whole routine was such a meditation. From the second the water level crested the top of my booties (booties = 7 mil, wetsuit = 4 mil, so I can always feel when it passes my feet), it felt so good. I don't know why or how, but this is where I can most be myself. This routine - the drive, the suit up, the wade in, the paddle, paddle, pop - the whole thing. It has become part of who I am. Being out of my comfort zone there has become my comfort zone.

It felt like there were a lot of people in the water today, but there were probably less than 10 at all times. I think I was just feeling self-conscious about being in people's way because I couldn't find my groove. It was like my board knew I'd been riding other boards since the last time I held her. She threw my ass off the deck every single ride. I kooked it up out there, and while there were definitely some swears, there were a lot more laughs. I rode a different size of board in Costa Rica, so for about the first 15 rides in today, I positioned myself way too far forward on my board, and for the next 15 rides, I was way too far back. I just couldn't remember how to work with this board. Not super productive, but I had the best damn time in the water.

I stayed out for about 3 hours and, my god, that's a long time for me. When I finally surrendered, the wind had come up and I was chilled so deeply that I didn't stop shivering for over an hour. But I couldn't have gotten out of the water earlier; I wanted to stay in forever. It felt so good, so familiar, so right. I actually had to talk myself out of going back in the water after an hour wandering around town. It wouldn't have worked for today, but it got me kind of stoked thinking about Fridays this summer catching an early surf, lunch in town, and then a late afternoon surf. Are you freaking kidding me? Two sessions in one day? Yes, please. Thank you, sir. May I have another?

After my session, I went by the surf shop to say hi to the owner, pick up a wax comb (it's definitely time for a little maintenance) and ask about getting a smaller board. It was great to be there -- they have a new girl working the front and she was so cool. Very young, sounds like a pretty new surfer, super enthusiastic. I talked with the owner about trying some different boards, and he commented on how smiley I was out there today. (He surfed for a bit in the middle of my sesh - dude is good.) I told him a little about Costa Rica and how awesome it was, but told him it just didn't compare to here. Freaky but true: I love surfing in Oregon. The owner listened to me go on about how there's no place I'd rather be, and then he said, "Well, this is your home break."

A-hem. You guys, I have a home break. I wanted to excuse myself and get my notebook: "Dear Diary, today the surf shop owner referred to the cove as my Home Break. Love, LSL."

My heart is overflowing with stuff I want to say about today, but I'm coming up empty. Whereas I usually crash off my board when I wipe out, today I dove off it. I swam around and played in the water every time I ended up there. I wanted to run around the parking lot and grab every person by the ears and yell YOU GUYS, WE ARE SURFING IN OREGON! I loved Costa Rica and was grateful for every hammock nap and banana pancake. But there were no ear-grabbing fantasies there. I don't know what to tell you. I love surfing here.

I can't freaking wait to reconnect with Jules (maybe in about a week) and just get this season started. I think I figured out that if I get up at the crack, I can make it to the coast and back and only be a couple hours late for work, which might be ok once or twice a month. Add that to every weekend, and I might just come out of this funk yet.

One other thing: I saw the owner in the lot after surfing when we were both taking off our wetsuits and he yelled over to me, "Nice hickey." I could feel my suit rubbing on my neck in the water but I couldn't believe it left a mark he could see from so far away. He told me to come by the shop so he could hook me up with some Belly Jelly (see how I'm taken care of here?) and when I got in my car I couldn't freaking believe it.

And that's just one side. It looks like that all the way around. Good thing I didn't call in sick today, huh?

Community

2011-04-18T06:28:00.000-07:00

I worked at a homeless center on Saturday night for five hours for a class I absolutely hate. The center is unique in that it's not an overnight shelter, but a drop-in location whose only purpose is to try to address the social isolation that comes with homelessness. Folks come by to rest, get warm, have a little food, and get stocked up on essentials (if the donations have been received). And they come to talk.

I've been too busy lately to obsess over my concerns leading up to the first night, but when I got there I did start to wonder what the hell I was doing: What do I have in common with a homeless person? What am I going to say? What if I say something wrong? What about hygiene issues? (I'm not proud of it, but that came to mind.)

There was about 5 awkward minutes in the beginning, but the next 4 hours flew by in a mix of getting coffee, handing out sandwiches, playing Jenga, chess, and more, washing dishes, listening to the piano, and discussing the fundamental theorem of calculus.

You heard me.

Let's agree it was a night where my preconceptions were challenged. And my heart was broken. I spent most of the time with two older men playing a board game one of them had invented. It was so interesting! The object of the game was to get to know the other players better, and we did. One of the men had an advanced degree in physics and the other had an advanced degree in everything, I think. He was brilliant. He was the one explaining calculus to me -- trust me, it wasn't the other way around. Before we began the game he said he needed to know what my area of expertise was, and I said that I wasn't sure, but that I would go with psychology. His eyes lit up and he said, "Excellent! I don't know very much about psychology so you can teach me." (He was a quick study.)

I also spent time with an ex-soldier, 30-something, very handsome, who talked a lot about his time in the military. I think because he was closer to my age than many, and probably because he had served our country, it made me particularly sad to think about him living on the streets. We were having a pretty normal conversation and I was thinking, "This guy could be any one of my friends" and then at some point it took a turn and he went into a monologue about one of his tours of duty, and it kind of got more non-sequitur the longer he went on. That happened a few times: I'd be talking to someone, thinking, "This person is perfectly normal; he could be the guy in the cube next to me at work" and then the conversation would shift and I would realize there were other issues at play. Sigh.

It was sad to see the women. I guess because women are supposed to be soft and a little pampered, and these women were neither. It was sad to see the mentally ill. Mental illness is such a trigger for me. I don't understand why we can't do more. It seems like a prison cell without a key. I wish I had the time to write down every story, or at least the stories of the 5 or 6 guys I spent time with. I did write down their names and a few identifiers once I got in my car at the end of the night so I would remember them if I see them next time.

Honestly, if I stop and think about the evening, I start to cry a little. None of these people started out in life thinking, "I hope I end up begging for food or asking strangers for socks." It makes me wonder about our system, and it makes me wonder about my life -- not only, what can I do to be part of the solution?, but, if these folks didn't plan this, could it happen to me?

I don't want to say that it was all sad. I truly enjoyed the evening, and several of the interactions were only pleasant and positive. I admire the organization deeply for knowing their niche and doing their "one thing" very well. I think that by having a narrow mission, they're able to work toward their goal without distraction. And in the end, I would say the evening was a success - it definitely helped eliminate a bit of social isolation.

And hopefully it helped some of the homeless guests, too.

Constant Craving

2011-04-15T01:26:00.000-07:00

I am craving surfing. Craving surfing. During a massage the other day I flipped over onto my belly half-way through as instructed, and I found myself pushing up with my palms and toes, making sure I was exactly centered on the table. After I carefully lowered my body, I held my arms up just a second to see if I was balanced. Like I do on my board.

Craving.

It's unsurfable out there, and I should know: I'm checking the report three times a day, just in case. I'm in terrible shape -- the subtle cut of my shoulders that I noticed after Costa Rica has gone soft. I've finally gone running again and my thighs feel like knives are splitting them in two every time I move. I'm not ready to surf even if the ocean was ready to have me.

But I hope it's ready soon.

All That Is Left

2011-04-11T13:06:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite designs from wonderful Fresh Words Market is a great quote by Robert Fritz:

Where I'm From*

2011-04-10T00:53:00.000-07:00

Sizzle tells me it's National Poetry Month. Good enough for me.

I am from K-Tel records and 8-track tapes. I am from leotards and Charlie.

I am from cigarette butts and perfectly groomed flowers and silver and copper sleeping bags thrown across lounge chairs on wet grass. I am from a new journal on New Year's Eve, and toll paintings of owls and mushrooms. I am from "Don't Give Up On Us, Baby".

I am from Michelle's pool, and Washington Park, and the orchards between here and there.
I am from houses built from leaves. I am from packing a bag and running away to my Grandparent's lawn.

I am from "Home again, home again, jiggity jog" and "Bless us, oh Lord, and these, thy gifts" and "Just take two more bites!" I am from "Peace be with you" - "And also with you". I am from "Ooooo-n Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday night." I am from, "Look in the drawer under the phone!"

I am from candy from Ernie's while our bikes sat outside waiting. I am from fish sticks and white bread with butter, from canned vegetables, from thinly sliced sandwich meat and Velveeta cheese.

I am from Pooney and Joey and Potsy. I am from 34820, long before 663-4820. I am from birch trees in every yard. I am from parents dancing around the living room.

*Thank you, George Ella Lyon.

By the Numbers

2011-03-30T10:15:00.000-07:00

I'm back and already missing the hot sun and friendly smiles in Costa Rica. What an amazing vacation. It was an unusual one for me because, although I went alone, I spent almost all of my time with a group of people. It almost felt like going on a trip with a bunch of friends. That was very fun but a smidge different than what I thought I needed. Still, I'm really glad it worked out that way. Different can be good.

I can't wait to tell you all the deets about my rad time and how incredibly Type-A I was about my surfing, but for now let's take it by the numbers:

34 bug bites in one night of not using bug spray
3 stings from stingrays
10' 2" - the board I started with
9' 2" - the board I ended with
1 fish I almost caught in my mouth while taking a wave in
10" - the size of that disgusting fish
4 surfer-specific massages at Tica Massage
7 fresh jugo de piña and banana pancake breakfasts
17 surfing lessons/sessions
3 naps in my hammock
16ish outdoor showers on the deck of my room
60 minutes journaling by candlelight observing Earth Hour
2 big wipeouts
1 million little wipeouts
1 awesome 40th birthday

If You Need Me, I'll Be Napping in My Hammock

2011-03-21T20:32:00.000-07:00

Thanks for all of the really nice birthday wishes, peeps! Hello from beautiful Costa Rica. I borrowed a laptop tonight to quickly check in with reality, but who cares about that. Let's talk about me: 40 is working pretty great for me so far. I surfed for hours today, and tonight I just got back from a really fun dinner out with the group. The sunsets here are amazing, the surf is the most consistent I've ever seen, and the Howler monkeys are named that for a reason. Send my things!

Forty

2011-03-17T10:29:00.000-07:00

As if on cue, a thick, silky grey hair appeared last week at my right temple. I've been highlighting my hair since I was about 20, so I don't have many opportunities to see grey coming in. However, this thing is The Little Engine That Could. Try as I might, it wasn't going anywhere.

I am almost positive there has been a mistake, but it seems as though I am about to turn 40. This is a big one. You and me, me and you, we've gone through a lot of birthdays together. But this one? This one feels very different. Not bad-different. Just different-different.

I leave in about an hour for Costa Rica, so it must be time to pack. I never got that final paper done (poo), and I left approximately one million e-mails unanswered at work. But there comes a point when you can't *do* any more and you just have to let. shit. go. Thank goodness!

I feel like I've had a lot to say, but I haven't been able to find my words lately. I'm nervous about traveling alone. I've done it so many times over the years -- will it still be fun? I hope my sense of adventure comes back to me quickly. I can feel it creeping in just a tiny bit at times. Huntington Beach called the other night and caught me in a "What was I thinking?" moment. He calmly and confidently said all the right things at all the right times (this is his specialty) and made me feel like the smartest girl in the world for running off alone and clueless to some little place I'd never even heard of not too long ago.

So here I go! I hope I can really take my surfing to the next level with all this warm water practice. I'll be back soon with lots of boring stories about laying around in the sun, reading yummy books, drinking ice cold beer, and surfing my brains out!

Watashi No Nihon

2011-03-12T23:38:00.000-08:00

Zac Neulieb has designed this haunting print named Help Japan. It's only $22.50 and all proceeds go to support the country I love and called home for several years.

Ten

2011-03-08T14:36:00.001-08:00

That last post got me thinking about my other nine reasons it's great to be alive. Here is my current list:

Les Miserables - 1,000 specific things about it
Surfing. Natch.
Hearing or reading words that perfectly describe something I am thinking or feeling
Sun on my skin
Books. Delicious books.
The absolute perfect song at the absolute perfect time
Feet pounding on pavement, fresh air in lungs, moving forward, always forward
Being thought of, being comforted, being held by just the right person
That feeling when I'm in bed and I wake up in the morning after a great sleep and I'm the perfect temperature and the covers are just right around me and I am totally comfy
Getting nuzzled by my furry little pet - they're our true companions, aren't they?

Now that I've gotten started, I feel like I could come up with 100 more. I guess that makes me very lucky, doesn't it?

Nothin'

2011-03-06T20:40:00.000-08:00

I'm sick as a dog right now. Sick, sick, sick. Work is a disgusting petri dish of germ-infested germy germs and late last week I got slimed. Every strand of my hair hurts. It hurts to move my eyeballs back and forth. Sick. Do you understand me? I'm sick.

While I've been slipping in and out of consciousness tonight, I've been watching the 25th anniversary special of Les Miserables. For me, Les Mis is in the top 10 reasons to live. This version has some boy band member as Marius, which doesn't sit well with me at all, but I think I may have found my new favorite Javert. That's no small thing. My all-time favorite Jean Val Jean? Colm Wilkinson, of course. Duh. But this guy did just fine during "Bring Him Home" which is, of course, the ultimate test.

17 Jean Val Jeans are right here. (Is it just me, or does Iceland look like Vladimir Lenin?) And my favorite song from Les Mis is here. You must wait for the very last note. Ahhhhhh.

I didn't watch the Oscars last week or whatever, but I enjoyed the summary on Bigezbear more than I could have any television show. My favorite part of his recap?

I'm hearing today that a lot of people were put off by Kirk Douglas's appearance. He was old and kind of decrepit. Yes, he was. Get over it. Getting old and kind of decrepit is what happens to you when you don't die young.

If you're not reading Glenn, I can't help you.

Speaking of Les Mis, a month or so ago I ordered myself a couple little surprises and they arrived last week.

(The two on the left are mine - the one on the right isn't custom; just one she sells that I think is cute.) Jane Mount is a genius who paints ~~porn~~ pictures of your favorite books so you can oogle them for all time. (She also has a birthday close to mine, and she also turns 40 this year. We chatted.) She had a Valentine's Day special running so I indulged and got them made for my favorite valentine. I've been making tiny changes to my apartment, just mixing it up a little to make it homier and keep it organized. I bought a new bookshelf, and I got a bunch of cheap art from Etsy framed with IKEA frames. I love my little place. I'll post some pics when it all comes together.

My 200 year old, totally blind cat needs company while I'm on vacation. He's . . . special, so he needs some special help. I hired a friend of an acquaintance who runs a pet sitting business (sounds so legitimate, doesn't it?) who came to meet the cat last weekend and made two racist comments within five minutes of setting foot in my house. As she left, she casually said, "You would want JJ to be humanely euthanized in the event something terrible happened, right?" I then sent out a desperate e-mail plea to my schoolmates asking if anyone lived in the area who didn't want to kill my cat, and got a reply from a woman whose daughter lives and works close by. I met her this weekend and handed over the key to my house. Another perfect stranger. She's not going to torture him or ignore him, right? Taking care of the cat issue is always the most stressful part of going away.

I kind of hate school. I don't really know what to do. I'm grateful that my current class, Multiculturalism, is really great and making it all almost worth it. My sister went into nursing as a second career in her mid-30's and from her first day of school, I was shocked at how mean experienced nurses were to new nurses - constant discouragement and horror stories about the industry with no "other side" to balance it out. That's all I can compare my experience of being in a teacher education program with. I need to figure this out at some point.

This is 10-time world champ Kelly Slater from an article in GQ on the best athletes of all-time. Yes, he's pouring a beer over his head while riding a wave. Can I learn to do that?

I like watching the kids, but I tend to find the (ahem) older surfers a little more inspirational. Kelly is 39 and he currently holds the record for being both the youngest and oldest world champ. Not bad. Here's a gorgeous, quick vid of Kelly's evolution to 10 titles. Pure beauty, no?

And this is one of my sister's dogs finding the only sliver of sunshine in the state of New York.

I don't know; I just thought it was cute.

Enough. Night!

Refuge

2011-02-28T00:44:00.000-08:00

In 2 1/2 weeks I'm headed out for 12 days. It doesn't seem real, and yet it's coming up fast. I haven't been on a plane in so long. And I haven't been out of the country since 2007. That's crazy. And I can't remember the last time I went to a totally new region. So I have some nerves going on.

Back here and here I mentioned hoping I could at some point scrape together enough pennies for this trip. This exact trip. Luckily, it really only took pennies. For my 30th birthday, I saved up enough airline miles to take my sister and me to Italy. It was amazing. I've been mostly saving my miles since then, knowing that something really special was in store for them. So for my 40th birthday, I have enough miles to plan this crazy trip and to fly first class. The entire ticket is costing me about $45. Can you imagine? Alaska Airlines, I love you and your miles that never expire.

I'm scared. And hopeful. I bought a Kindle, for godsakes, so I'm definitely getting ready. I expect to pack one small bag, and I'll bring a few bathing suits, sunscreen, a couple pairs of shorts and t-shirts, my iPod, and my journal. And my heart. Don't forget my heart.

So it's this: a deserted coastal area a four-hour (mostly paved) drive from the nearest major airport. A little bungalow with a hammock and an outdoor shower on the patio. Yoga classes. Massage. And two-to-three surf lessons a day. Two beers are included with every meal. Lights out at 10:00 so we're ready for the early sessions.

40, I'm not ready for you. I'm scared and I have no idea how I'm going to pull this off.

The last couple of months haven't been like I'd planned they would be -- they've been pretty much the opposite of what I've wanted or needed. I'm not ready to open my heart wide enough to accept everything life has for me right now. I hope Life will understand.

Maybe Costa Rica can show me the way.

Return to Me

2011-02-21T01:00:00.000-08:00

I burned a day of PTO today to stay home and finish up a homework assignment that was due a week ago for a class that is already over. Two additional classes have started since (I'm kind of hating school right now) so I needed to get that thing done. I finished it at 9:00 tonight - 27 pages of pure pain - and sent it off without so much as a quick proofread. Not even a glance to make sure all the pages were there. I just didn't have it in me. Sometimes it's like that.

Tonight the house is pretty clean and the laundry is done. The garbage is out and I'm about to start the dishwasher before I head to bed. I changed around the living room furniture on Friday, which I kind of never do because of the blind cat, but he's doing ok and it feels good to have a bit of change. And a couple hours ago I sat down with some Hagen Dazs, let the blind cat fall asleep in my lap, and I watched a movie. I think it was my third movie in the past 12 months. It felt great.

I'm kind of hating my job right now (see a pattern? I need a break) so it just was good to get 3 days away. I like my job but it's too much. It's too much. And two-day weekends where I rarely leave the house and do 14 hours of homework each day just haven't been cutting it. But yesterday I caught up with my mom and sister on the phone, and then took my homework down to the froyo lounge for a little evidence of other lifeforms on earth.

I'm still trying to find my way back to myself. Surfing last week helped a ton. But as a good friend reminded me, you can't just flip a switch. In little ways I'm figuring it out. I'll try to get a run in tomorrow before work and my homework for Wednesday is relatively light. I'm finding a few minutes to answer e-mails to reconnect with my people, and I finally wrote my Grandma last week. I'm not doing it perfectly but I'm taking small steps. It feels good.

At Last

2011-02-19T20:30:00.000-08:00

I had watched the surf report all week anticipating the possible but rare, almost mythological, convergence of a nice day in the water and one of my days off. I didn't want to jinx myself, but I called Jules about five days out and left her a message in a low whisper saying if possibly just perhaps kind of maybe it sort of a little bit worked out, I'd love to book some time to surf our freaking heads off that Friday.

I may or may not have spent the next four days with my iPhone 2 inches away from my face waiting for her to call. The day before the proposed sesh, I received a text saying she was going out of town and wouldn't be able to hang out. Wrecked! Desperate - totally fricking desperate - I called the surf shop owner and said that I knew Jules would be out, but was there someone, anyone, maybe another teacher, maybe a guy off the street, who could take me out the following day.

You know how sometimes you want something so badly, you need it so desperately, and it doesn't work out? This wasn't like that at all.

The shop owner told me to meet him at low tide the following day and we'd paddle out together. Seriously? Seriously.

It was junky as hell and hard to get outside. I spent ten minutes in the line up waiting for a wave to try and wondering what good fortune had come my way that I found myself sitting on a surfboard in the ocean in February next to the rad, generous guy who helped get me started.

We were sitting, waiting, wishing for a while - it was just such a crap day; he never would have put a toe in if it weren't for wanting to help me out - and the first good-sized one that came my way, I went for it. It ended poorly (god, I took some hits that day; a couple scary ones, too - it was too big for me out there) and by the time I washed ashore I decided to just stay inside. I could have waited out there with the others, but in 45 minutes or more, among 3 guys, one of them got one wave. (A freaking great one, too.) I decided to stay the hell inside because, and this was my thought: I sit all day. I've got that down. I want to ride.

And ride I did. It was surprising how long it took for me to get steady on my feet. I got up every time, but I took probably 10 waves instantly falling on my butt before I was able to figure it out. That's a lot of time and energy spent falling on my head. Just as I was wondering if I would ever get it back . . . there it is, I recognize that feeling - man, that feels stable and right, heart up, right Jules? Is this really happening? I love this feeling. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Again and again and again.

The others went in after about an hour but I couldn't give it up. The wind was getting stronger but the waves had come down to about 5' and I just couldn't have walked out of the ocean at that point for a million dollars. I said I was going to stay and try to get a couple more. And an hour later when I couldn't push myself up with my arms for one more ride, I took off my leash and walked out of the water about a thousand times more myself than I was when I'd gone in that morning.

I stopped by the store on the way home to thank the owner. What the hell. I still can't believe he did that. He told me that he'd stayed while I surfed solo and snapped pics of me. Can you believe that? Generous. And do you know why? Just for the love of the sport. You know I'm not tearing it up out there or going on to spend a million dollars at his shop. He's been so generous to me just for the love of showing someone else the unspeakable joy of surfing.

Sigh. It's always an adventure to wake up the day after a session to discover what bruises and marks cover my body. I usually can't see them until they have a chance to settle in. My god, I was covered. Always the right side where I hold my board, up and down my torso and under my arm. I also still had sand in my teeth, which is indicative of a special kind of spanking. But it was a really fantastic session - really amazing to be back in the water after too many months land-bound - and hopefully it will tide me over one more month until my vacation.

Shake the Dust

2011-02-14T02:04:00.000-08:00

I've listened to this 100 times so far and I'm going to listen to it 100 more.

It's Just Like . . .

2011-02-08T10:29:00.000-08:00

On Saturday I visited a local bicycle shop because I've been wanting a way to get a little exercise and fresh air on days I don't run. And also because I live in Portland and don't own a bicycle and that's just not right. I've visited three different shops in the past month, just looking and asking and learning, and on Saturday I decided it was time for the big test drive.

What. The. Hell. I haven't ridden a bike (with the exception of about 15 minutes somewhere in the late 90's) since I was ten. That makes it fifteen years (just kidding - thirty years)!

Sooooo unnatural. Couldn't have been more strange and weird and altogether wtf. I was on a mostly closed-off little side-street, and I rode up and down and did big circles for about fifteen minutes, all the while just wondering: wtf. Was it fun? I don't know. Was it exercise? I have no idea. It was kind of scary and fairly uncomfortable for my ischial tuberosity (hi, butt/sitz bones) and mostly just totally unnatural.

Such a bummer! I know it was only one little test drive, but I'd really been thinking this is going to work out for me, and now I'm pretty sure it's not my thing. I only live a few miles from work, so I was thinking I could ride! my! bike! to! and! from! work! just like a real Portlander. Really? Who am I kidding? I get off work at about midnight. Last night I stumbled out to my car at 12:15 after a long day and thought: Really? On a bike? Right now? Not so much.

It's pretty. And in my head mine was going to be red with a basket to carry my things. But I think I'm going to need to go in another direction for exercise and fresh air.

Fun fact: When I was getting ready for my test drive, I told the guy I'd need a big helmet. (My people have large heads.) He had to go back twice to get a bigger size, and before he left the second time he said, "I hope I can find it. We only have two in the shop that big."

(I'm messing around with my template - sorry if it's distracting. I just kind of want a change but don't really have time to work it out right now. Let me know if the blue background makes it difficult to read.)

Homeward Bound

2011-01-29T23:47:00.000-08:00

I went running tonight for the first time in almost three weeks. It's crazy that I've let it go that long. The first quarter mile was ridiculous and I thought I'd have to stop, but I ended up making it my full three miles.

I hate that I've let myself go this winter, but I have. I've been taking care of other people and not taking care of myself. I eat food that is shit, and mentally there is no connection between what I put in my mouth and the consequences of putting it there. I don't drink much water and I'm not taking my vitamins. I work long hours and I focus on achieving externally. It kills me to admit that because I've spent the past two years undoing a lifetime of external achievement and the ways it has poisoned my brain. But all of this is true.

I've gained about 13ish pounds since I was at a good weight in the fall, and I can't believe how 13 extra pounds feels on my body this time around. It's harder to move. The weight gets in the way. 13 pounds in an entire clothes size. I hate leafing through clothes in my closet every morning wondering what I can wear. The extra weight is making me feel self-conscious lately. Moving through life and not being overly conscious of your body and how it might look to other people or how it might interfere with something you want to do is a gift. And I miss it.

Lack of exercise these last few weeks and even months has done more damage than adding weight to my frame. My mind is fuzzy, bogged down, dark. I haven't had a regular infusion of fresh air since I don't know when. The only fresh air I breathe is running from my car to the office and back to my car twelve hours later. My body aches - it truly aches - to move. It hurts. My body hurts in ten places right now from lack of moving. Other people mention getting exercise and I feel resentful. "It must be nice to not have responsibilities" I think. What am I doing?

I miss listening to music, which I almost only make time to do when I'm running. Listening to my special mix of tunes does something inside of me that only music can do. I miss being physically exhausted. I've thought that I've been physically exhausted these past few months, but that's been mental and emotional exhaustion, and I haven't been present enough to tell the difference. What am I doing?

What I'm not doing is surfing. I haven't surfed since December 5th. I haven't surfed much at all since the summer. I just counted -- I surfed twice in September, twice in October, and once in December. That kills me. But it makes sense that I've been disconnected from exercise because I started running and doing yoga - my god, I miss yoga - so I could lose weight so I could surf better. Any exercise I've done these last two years has been a meditation of surfing.

The last time Jules and I went out I told her that I felt like I was losing what surfing had given me. I touched my chest, my heart, when I said it. I felt like I was losing what surfing had given me inside. I think I felt that way at the time because it had been so long and because life was beating me up a bit. I still feel that way.

How do I get back to myself? My body is my home. I love my body; it's been so good to me. I despise external achievement at the cost of internal peace. I'm acting in a way that I don't even believe. Maybe some of it is winter. The season, the metaphor. Whatever it is, whatever is going on, I've been here before. And I guess I know what to do.

I'm going to find my compass, my north star, and follow it home.

The Story

2011-01-15T07:53:00.000-08:00

I started seeing a guy in November and things immediately looked good. He seemed pretty amazing - really good guy, a teacher, tall - and we hit it off like I hadn't experienced probably ever. (I mentioned him and his dreamy height here.) We went on several dates and he was very direct about liking me and very open about feeling great about our connection.

Isn't it refreshing when you meet someone who puts it out there and doesn't play games? Can you tell this is headed for a big old crash and burn?

We were out for dinner one Saturday night and I'd gotten all cute - tremendous effort; I don't have you tell you that - and I kept thinking, "Is this really happening? Somebody, pinch me." About an hour into the date, he asked me out for the following weekend, and all I could think was: I guess he's having as good a time as I am. In the past, he'd waited until the end of the date or even the following few days to ask me out again, but there he was, before our food was even served, thinking about seeing me again. True love? Definitely.

So we made plans right then and there for the following Friday, and when we ended the date that night, he kissed me a few times and asked me to give him a call during the week -- something we hadn't yet done. (We'd only communicated via text and e-mail in between dates to that point. Ah, technology. Brining people together. Or something.) The next morning I e-mailed him before heading out for a glorious day of December surf asking if he liked Brandi Carlile, knowing that anyone in their right mind does, and excited for what would obviously be an amazing New Year's Eve date because I had two tickets to her very hot and very sold-out NYE show at the Aladdin, and Mr. Totally Amazing and I were going to go and have an incredible, fun, memorable, intoxicating, tall-people kind of time.

So I sent the quick e-mail that morning and went off to walk on water all day at the coast, and later that night was having a great dinner with a girlfriend when I got his reply. Ah, iPhone. My sleek, beautiful iPhone. Why must your portability bring me such despair during dinner?

Yes, it was just the night before that we had that amazing date and he had asked me out again before the night had even ended. No, he didn't answer my question about Brandi Carlile in his brief e-mail that fateful Sunday. He merely e-mailed to say that he was sorry, but that he'd decided to pursue another relationship that had been "building".

Blink. Blink, blink. Not interested? In me? I know. I was shocked, too. It's been a while since I saw actual potential (and not just practice saying "No thank you") in a relationship, so this one was hard. But not quite as hard as a blog entry this long implies, so let me get to the point.

I decided there was NO WAY IN HELL I could go to my Brandi Carlile concert now. Not alone, not on New Year's Eve, not possible. I go to the movies alone, I go to Italy alone, but I don't go out on New Year's Eve alone. No way. Why don't you just stick a flashing neon sign on my back that says, "LOSER" and get it over with? I'd wanted to see Brandi really badly for a while, and I have a sense she's not going to be on the small-shitty-theater-circuit for much longer, and YES, I'd purchased an entire new outfit including great boots that I knew would wow Mr. Not Good Enough For Me (his name had very recently changed), but I couldn't go to the show alone. Just. Not. Possible.

So, of course, I went. Mon Dieu, it took a lot of self-talk. And about four hours of getting gorgeous time that evening. And a lot of texts with Sizzle and my sister. Even then, I almost backed out about 100 times between the time I departed my house and the time I walked into the theater. Very emotional, to be honest. Hard to do. But in the end, it comes down to what a lot comes down to: Am I *really* going to care what other people think? Because if I am, the implications are big. I mean, really. Today it's the NYE thing. Tomorrow? Where does it stop?

The show was amaaaaazing. One of the best I've been to, and that's saying something. She's incredible and I had a really great time. She did most of my faves, including this one, of course. I had a fantastic evening, rocked the boots, and rang in the new year, if nothing else, affirming my commitment to myself.

Oh. And Mr. Totally Missed Out? I replied to his e-mail that night right away and told him that I understood and appreciated him letting me know.

Poor bastard.

The Gift

2011-01-05T10:55:00.000-08:00

I've been so looking forward to this. I've felt ready for this exact year and what it contains. I've been excited to take on a pretty big birthday, knowing that numbers have been challenging to me in the past, but feeling proud of the accomplishment this year represents.

So far, and I know this isn't how it usually looks, but, I've pretty much loved aging. Life has only gotten better for me as it's gone along (ah - the benefits of a rocky start), and somewhere around 37 or 38 it started getting better in a different way. The late 30's are like an advanced degree in Life with a major in Common Sense and a minor in Not Giving A Damn. Things start to make sense in a really good way. The perspective shift I've experienced in the last couple of years is like nothing else I've experienced to this point. It's better than I even knew to hope for.

I mean, sure, you're aging. You slowly get wrinkly in weird ways that you can't really hide. Things hurt. Digestion is different. Sleep is hard. You've crossed an invisible line. Instead of asking how old I am, people ask if I mind if they ask how old I am. Wha? At some point it becomes really clear that you're no longer the target demographic for almost anything.

But you don't care. Remember that minor you got in your late 30's? This is where you put that degree to use. Being 30 is like having x-ray vision goggles and a magic bullshit detector and not knowing how to use either but kind of having to act like you do. Being 39 is like having all the special powers minus the need to appear smart or together.

I've felt so ready for 40. And beyond, actually. But something has happened in the last month or so and I've really been doubting my ability to face what comes next. I'm scared. There is a lot of loss in life. What if I'm not strong enough for the hard parts? I know I won't always feel this way about aging.

I booked a special trip - a really special trip - for my birthday. I've been saving my airline miles for ten years -- the last time I used them was for my 30th birthday trip to Italy with my sister. A few weeks ago I cashed in enough miles for a first class ticket to what I think will be the perfect place to accept 40. I'm scared. And excited. I have a little over two months to open my mind and my heart wide enough to get there. I hope I can do it.

Santa's Workshop

2010-12-19T22:25:00.000-08:00

I finished my school assignments at about 2 AM last Thursday morning. I went to work on Thursday and stayed until 2 AM Friday morning, glad to finally have a mind clear of school and anxious to prove to my boss after weeks of being cranky, forgetful, and visibly tired, that I could focus.

Friday is the first day of my weekend and I've rarely been so happy to see it come. I started it off with a little jog (a very little jog) and then shifted into Christmas shopping mode. I did a ton of cleaning around the house, spent about 5 hours running around to nearby shops, and finished it all off with a massage. Ahhh. That night I stayed up until 6 AM Saturday (I know; I've been having a lot of insomnia lately) finishing my Christmas cards and turning my 2nd bedroom into Santa's Workshop.

On Saturday I set out to a local, newish shopping center that I'd never been to before to finish my shopping. That's right. I went to a new shopping center on the Saturday before Christmas. I limited myself to 2 1/2 hours, come hell or high water, and what happened next is truly a Christmas miracle because I enjoyed the hell out of those 2 1/2 hours. I went into just a few of my favorite shops and thought of the people I was buying for and magically drew a few perfect little symbols of love right into my shopping basket. It was that easy. And then I went to the next shop and did it again. I left a couple hours later with treasures I was excited to give and my shopping done.

On Saturday night I celebrated Christmas with a great friend for what we decided was the 18th year. What a gift. And then I decided it was an awesome idea to stay up until 5 AM Sunday morning preparing 36 gift bags for residents of a rehab center I've been donating a little time to for the past six months. Addicts are kind of assholes and I've noticed that most of the guys don't have family or friends lining up to call, write, or visit. I think recovery is hard enough without going through the holidays alone, so I'm hoping this gesture will let them know that someone cares.

Today my workweek started (still not sure why you guys let me get a job) and tonight I'm racing to get everything wrapped and boxed to be mailed tomorrow. I know I'll pay a mint. But I have candles lit and my Christmas music on and I feel overwhelmed with gratitude. I'm not saying that the holidays are easy. This is a really tough one, actually. But I think it was those years in Japan spending the holidays alone that gave me a new perspective. You'll never hear me bitching about Christmas music in October or stores putting out holiday items before Thanksgiving. I've always felt those are complaints for people without real problems.

Besides, I know what I've got. And it's a lot.

Where Young People Go To Retire

2010-12-17T12:31:00.000-08:00

Dear Every City in the Entire World,

We know you want to be like us.

Give up.

Love,
Portland

The Point: Almost Done

2010-12-16T09:54:00.000-08:00

Last night was my last class before a three-week Christmas break. I've been functioning at about 1% in the past week (or month) - not exercising, eating terribly, not returning calls or e-mails, and getting about 3 hours of sleep a night. It's been pretty bad. I was SO excited to wrap up class, as were my colleagues, only to get to class and be assigned three short projects to be done by 12/22.

Anti-climactic. You should have seen the faces fall when she announced it. If there were an ounce of energy left collectively among us, there probably would have been a coup d'état. Instead there was mumbling, a little rocking back and forth, and I might have shed a tear.

I stayed up until 1:30 and got two of the papers done, and now only have one more project to do, which won't be hard and I can finish it this weekend. But, really?

Also last night we started working on our student teaching placements for next year. (And that is a sentence I never thought I would be writing.) I am requesting a social studies placement in a middle school for the fall, and a dual psych/business placement in a high school for the winter and spring. I cannot fathom - cannot imagine in any way - that I will actually be in a classroom teaching lessons plans that I have created to young faces with bedhead in less than a year. At this point, I would say that the chances of that happening are 50/50. At best.

But it does feel good to dream. I feel good about where I am and where I am headed.

Close

2010-12-12T23:19:00.000-08:00

Heavens to murgatroid. I've been locked down in my house as if it were a bunker since last Thursday. I'm almost at the end of the semester in school and I had four, count them: four, papers to write for one of my classes. They were due last week, so I'd already missed the deadlines, but I was really hoping to get them all done this weekend. I even took today off work to try to finish. I didn't quite make it, so right now I have one paper (kind of a hard one) left for the first class, and then one small assignment for my other class that is ending on Wednesday. It all kind of sucks and I'm over, over, o-v-e-r it at this point, but I have to stay focused and pull that last paper out of somewhere.

Coming soon: a three week break, sleep, exercise, Christmas shopping, actual communication with friends, and maybe even a television show or two.

Must. Focus.

We'll Get There

2010-12-10T21:54:00.000-08:00

The road is long with many a winding turn
That lead us to who knows where,
who knows where
But I'm strong,
strong enough to carry him
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

So on we go
His welfare is my concern
No burden is he to bear, we'll get there

For I know
he would not encumber me
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

If I'm laden at all
I am laden with sadness that
everyone's heart isn't filled with the gladness
of Love for one another

It's a long, long road
From which there is no return
while we're on our way to there why not share

And the load doesn't weigh me down at all
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

He ain't heavy
He's my brother

Decking Halls

2010-12-03T09:51:00.000-08:00

It's been such a hard week, but I'm on a four-day weekend right now. I'm relieved to have the break, but my mind is racing every minute about the homework left to do in the next two weeks. It's ugly.

Huntington Beach is here for 3 days and yesterday we celebrated his birthday. It's been really nice to spend time with him again. He helped me get a Christmas tree (we went outside of my snooty neighborhood and saved over $40 -- can I get an awwww yeah!) and he put the bloody thing in the stand, which means it's the very first time I've had my tree straight and not leaning against a window or something! It looks beautiful. We put the lights on and then decorated it with ornaments, and then had birthday apple pie and ice cream. It was a really nice evening.

HB has homework of his own to do, so we're going to dig in today and be studious. I have so much to get done. Please cross fingers.

So, anyway, what do we do with snorers? Just kill them and hide the bodies? Jeeeeeesus.

May Cause Drowsiness

2010-11-27T02:42:00.001-08:00

Hi, Internet. Why am I posting at 3:00 AM? Well, because I just finished a paper and I'm not quite ready to go to bed. My scheduled is jacked lately. Two nights ago I couldn't sleep until . . . 5:00 AM. I think it's equal parts homework and anxiety, with a big scoop of poor nutrition and several to do lists sprinkled on top. I keep trying to turn things around. The twisted thing is that no matter how late I stay up, I don't sleep in. I know. This will not end well.

I'm disappointed that I haven't posted more in the last month or so, but life got all crazy with the job thing and the school thing. Why did I go and do all that?

Huntington Beach comes up for his birthday next weekend, starting Wednesday night. I had this awesome thought a couple hours ago that I should get my tree and have my apartment all decorated for Christmas before he gets here. Could you work on that, please?

I had an emotional but really nice Thanksgiving with J, my very close friend, and some of her family and friends. I missed my family, and the surf report sucked, and I had a hard time making myself go anywhere, to be honest. But once I was there, I was just grateful to have a place where I was so welcomed. I ate the yummy food and mostly kept quiet so I wouldn't get choked up and blurt out how much I missed my sister making our Grandma's fruit salad, or my mom knitting quietly in the corner, or my brother's grateful hugs. Most of all, my nephews' soft hair, sticky hands, and totally unselfconscious laughs. I could have used a big dose of each. But two of J's three boys (5, 6, and 7 when we first became friends; now 24, 25, and 26) were there, and it really was enough to just feel welcomed and have a place to go. It was a good holiday.

There are only three more weeks until winter break from school. I can hardly believe that's true. I was trying to jam almost all of the homework assignments from the next three weeks into this weekend -- wasn't that a good plan? -- but I'll have to settle for just making good progress.

Remember last summer when I didn't have a job and I surfed whenever I wanted and I would tweet pictures of my feet in front of the pool every day? And I was going on all those first dates? Well, I've been kind of ignoring the dating scene since September because I'm too busy to see people I actually know and care about. But about two weeks ago someone from an online site messaged me and said some clever thing or the other, and he really caught my eye. We had our first date last Saturday -- big success, really fun time -- and date number two is tomorrow night. Get this: he's a teacher. I'm kind of excited about this one, but trying to not put too much thought into something that's still at the I-wonder-if-he's-an-axe-murderer stage. But, you guys: 6'2". No kidding.

I like my job. There are shitty parts, but I like a lot about it. Weird, huh?

There's more, of course. There's always more. And I'm going to tell you all about it soon. But right now I'm really going to try to hit the sack.

I Hope

2010-11-17T00:39:00.001-08:00

I Can Tell That We're Gonna Be Friends

2010-11-13T23:14:00.000-08:00

In early October, so just about a lifetime ago, on a clear Sunday evening, I drove up to the amphitheater in Vancouver and went to my first Jack Johnson concert. It was a really incredible night, front row didn't hurt, and I've never felt so like I was surfing without being cold as shit.

Zee Avi opened - really great - and then G Love was next. About six months ago I got matched online with a guy who was really into G Love, and at the time I'd never heard of him. When this guy e-mailed me, I listened to a couple seconds of G Love and decided it was grounds for ending communication.

G Love was fantastic and I now have Booty Call on a permanent loop during my commute to and from work. Blues Music? Soft and Sweet? Yes, please.

Jack was a dream. Mellow as hell and a little shrimpy guy, too. I should have known -- all the surfer dudes are. I had no IDEA Zack Gill would be there, too cool, although they didn't play my song. Jack did play my two favorites, Constellations and Breakdown. Something about the ukuleles and memories of really great times in Hawaii and all the drives to the coast for surf days listening to his music. A commenter on the YouTube vid for Breakdown wrote, "Whenever I hear that song, I forget all my effing problems and relax." I mean, that's it.

It was an amazing night for me. I've probably thought of it every single day since, just trying to let the mellow vibe and the message of his music stay with me and work little bits of magic.

My latest favorite from both Jack and G Love is Rodeo Clowns (below). I think I could play that song 100 times a day and not get sick of it. I'm also loving this one. That first part? Aw, yeah.

Just What I Needed

2010-11-07T10:04:00.000-08:00

I had a pretty much blissful Saturday yesterday. With four hours of sleep, I flew to class (late, as usual) at 8:00 AM. Saturday classes are such a drag, but we just started a new one (510 - Human Development) and this might be the best professor I've ever had. My hand still hurts from basically transcribing every word he said during those four hours.

After school I met a friend for coffee and caught up for a couple of hours. I haven't done anything social (no, really) for weeks and weeks. I've had tickets to four theater shows and one movie outing planned, and I've canceled them all. Phone conversations have even been few and far between. So this leisurely (ish) meet up with my girlfriend was awesome.

After that I came home and got in a quick run. A few days ago I went for a run and it looked like this:

Yesterday it was grey and crappy, but only started to rain just as I was lacing up my sneakers and walking up to the track. Perfect. Not the best running conditions, but I've only been able to make it about 2 or so miles lately, so I wasn't out there long. And it always feels good to get out there no matter what the conditions are.

Then I came home and got to my homework. I did a few other things throughout the night - unloading the dishwasher, throwing in a load of laundry, writing the weekly note to Grandma - but mostly focused on getting my reading and assignments done for class on Wednesday. Next weekend is a three day weekend for me (Halle-frickin-lujah) and I'm going to try to get the next couple of weeks of homework done then, so now I only need to focus on getting myself caught up through this Wednesday. I almost made it, and probably could have pushed myself, but decided to leave a little reading and one short paper, and I made it to bed just after midnight.

It was such a good day!

Last night I slept a solid nine hours (unheard of, by the way) and now I'm headed to work to start my week. I love my Sunday - Thursday schedule, and we get to wear jeans on Sundays and the office is empty except for a couple of small teams, so it's a pretty easy day and I always get a lot done. It's a great way to to start out the week.

I don't quite have the whole work/school thing down (ok, not at all) and have been wondering if I ever will, so I really needed a good, productive, relaxing, encouraging day. I'm really grateful that I got one!

Hero

2010-11-02T23:59:00.000-07:00

I'm still shocked tonight hours after learning of the death of three-time world champion surfer Andy Irons. I have several vids of Andy that I've watched for inspiration over and over this past year of knee rides and black eyes and wipe outs.

Andy's style is fast and smooth. He leaves a wife who is 7-months pregnant with their first child, a son. Really sad.

Billabong has a beautiful tribute to him here.

Navigating

2010-10-21T01:28:00.000-07:00

I'm still finding my way. I've wanted to blog more, little stories here and there, but time seems to be the thing I have the least of these days. To an extreme. Or maybe that's sleep. Either way, I'm hopeful that I'm working it out, whether or not I see much evidence of that. I just feel like I must be.

Work is good. I really like the people, and I don't actually like people very often. A sharp, young coworker of mine who sits in the cube across from me enjoys watching me unwrap my crumpled peanut butter-on-Dave's Bread sandwich every day, to which she dryly says, "I see you cooked." I had my first staff meeting yesterday, and afterwards two of my peeps went to my boss and said that they love me. Now, relax. I didn't fall off the turnip truck yesterday. I know it's a matter of time before those exact employees hate me, but it felt good and I took a few moments to enjoy it.

School is a complete mystery. It's good, bad, fun, a drag . . . I have no idea. I am, however, going to be half-way done with my first year before I know it. Crazy. Time is a thief. I am still figuring school out, too.

I will hear next week if I get chosen to be on the jury of a special trial set to last 4 to 5 weeks. I know. All the potential jurors went last Friday to fill out questionnaires and get the basics, and it sounds horrific. I wrote a letter basically begging to not be chosen. I feel a degree of guilt about requesting to be excused, but I really, really don't think that would be good for me right now. But what do I know about what is good for me. I'm waiting to see what happens.

I want to surf so bad. A few weeks ago I was in an HR class at work (with all managers) and we went around in a circle answering a question that was written on the board as an ice-breaker. It said, "Money, time, and responsibility aside, I'd rather be doing __________ ." It took me one second to answer that question. I'd rather be surfing. Then and now. I'd rather be surfing. It made me happy because at the time I'd surfed about 3 days earlier and I thought, I'm basically living my "If you won the lottery . . . " question. Perhaps not exactly, but closer than ever before.

I feel like some of that has gotten lost in the last three weeks between late nights, lunch-hour meetings, production reports, PTO calculations, lesson plans and learning theories, and just plain old exhaustion. But I feel determined - determined - to get it back. The first place I'm going to look for it is at the track where I run tomorrow. I have a good feeling I might find something important there.

Regress

2010-10-09T16:19:00.000-07:00

Did I say progress? I guess the process of finding balance involves a little wobbling back and forth. I've felt overwhelmed, exhausted, alone, and pretty lost most of this week.

I did have dinner delivered on Thursday from Dinner at Your Door, courtesy of Groupon. Highly recommended -- this was chicken with brown rice and apple compote, and spiced squash. It came with a gorgeous green salad with Parmesan cheese and tomatoes, and oatmeal raisin cookies. They bring dinner for two, but I've had three meals out of it so far, and there's at least enough for two more full meals. The deal was for deliveries two weeks in a row, so I'll get another dinner next Thursday.

The other pic is my usual dinner. And sometimes lunch. And sometimes breakfast. Peanut butter on Dave's bread. Delicious and easy, but it's getting a little old. I admit it.

I haven't had a run since Monday, so I'm going to take a break from homework and go brave the rain to get one in. I start my new schedule tomorrow -- Sunday through Thursday, noon to 9:00 PM. I know it will be another transition, but I hope I can adjust pretty quickly. I'm not sure what to do but hold on and keep trying to figure it out. It's been four weeks on the job and six weeks since the beginning of school. I just need a bit of a routine, a few hours a week to laugh with friends, some consistent sleep. I'm going to believe that's all coming.

Progress

2010-10-05T21:00:00.000-07:00

Gosh. I finished formal training last week and got an actual desk in an actual cube at work. Things have started to feel like they are coming together, or like they will come together soon, or like maybe they could possibly come together someday. In theory. So that's positive.

I'm not actually doing the specific work associated with my role yet, I'm just dealing with loads of HR stuff, but so far things are going pretty well. Good people, good organization. My paycheck last Friday was a little shocking. Mon dieu! I'm going to take a look at a one bedroom apartment (I have a 2 bed/2 bath right now, which I adore) in my complex and just see if it's even fathomable. I'm not sure where the surfboard goes if I have to give up the garage, but I'm just going to look. We're causal in my office, and I have to say: wearing casual clothes every day is too awesome. I'm all over khakis and polos. And commuting 10 minutes is so great. There's a real pull to stay late and take on little extras . . . but I'm trying to keep it balanced.

School is helping me keep work balanced because it takes up so much damn time and energy. I'm ~~finding~~ taking time to run twice a week, which needs to be three times at least, but other than that, it's all work and homework. No socializing. No Glee. No blogging. No talking on the phone. No anything other than work and homework. To the extreme. I think that might ease up in a few weeks, but I'm not sure. I hope.

A week or so ago we started a new class and the prof had us go around and introduce ourselves and say how we were enjoying the program so far. I decided to put it out there and was honest about not loving the program and really struggling with wondering if I should keep going or not. Well. ALL HELL broke loose at that point and we spent the next couple hours debating, yelling, kicking, screaming.

School has been much better since that day. At first when ALL HELL broke loose, I thought, "Well, there it is. There's the proof that this isn't a good fit for me." But oddly enough, it was a turning point for me in a good way. I think that was the point at which I stopped being what I thought the group wanted me to be and the real me started showing up. And the real me has been going to class ever since. Sometimes it's a little awkward during class discussions because I don't say the perfect thing or agree with the rest of the nodding heads, but in general it's going much better now. I'm one person - at work, at school, when I'm surfing, when I'm running. It's just me.

In the current class, I team-teach a 20-minute segment of class every Wednesday. My first week went better than I could have imagined and really reaffirmed my desire to teach -- something I was not expecting from the experience. I hope tomorrow goes well, too. I really need that encouragement after a long week of doing homework on my breaks at work and staying up late (um, 4:30 AM last Saturday?) writing crappy papers.

I did blow off my first teaching conference last Saturday to spend a perfect, sunny day at the coast surfing. I can't wait to tell you guys about it.

Second Week

2010-09-26T18:13:00.000-07:00

I worked all week last week and then had school on Saturday. I came home from school and wrote a paper that was due at midnight that night. I finished and uploaded the paper at 11:56 and then went to bed, although I couldn't sleep until about 2:30 AM.

Today is Sunday and I have another paper to write and then 40 pages to read and a lesson plan to create on the material because I have to teach it during class on Wednesday.

I'm getting sick, I can feel it. I have pressure in my chest and my throat is sore. I'm pounding OJ, which I kind of hate, and promising myself I'll go to bed at 10:00 tonight and take something to knock myself out so I really sleep. I haven't had a decent night in weeks.

I'm struggling. I feel like this whole thing isn't working very well. I'm still running twice a week (which isn't enough) and I've been getting a massage on Friday nights for the past few weeks, and that hour is really wonderful. But I feel overwhelmed. I still have some personal shit that is creating stress and I feel worried about my weight and my health. I guess it feels like suddenly there are 10 things that all want the #1 spot on my cosmic priority list.

School is tough. It's not really the academics; the first class was very fluffy and didn't require a lot of brain power. But the teacher, the other students, the philosophies expressed in the program are all triggering me in various ways and it's exhausting. I've been wondering if I need to scrap it; I don't know if I have it in me right now. I'm not sure. So I'm going forward with it until I know for sure. That's all I can think to do.

Work is work. Jobs aren't that fun, huh? Letting someone else determine your priorities, how you'll spend your time, what's important to you for 45 or so hours a week in exchange for a pittance is a shitty set up. I don't know who thought of that. But I'm hoping it's just the transition -- these really tough weeks of going from 0 to 60 in two seconds -- and that once that passes, I'll be left with a pretty ok situation. I think I will, from what I've seen so far. I just need to make it through this transition.

I'm going to try to post a little more often and not only to say how life is so damn hard right now. Just for myself. Life is rough, but I don't want to make it harder by giving in to the temptation to keep my focus on how damn hard it all is. Little good things are happening (aren't they?) and I want to give those a little food and water and sunshine so hopefully they'll grow.

I'll try to pull a few out of my ass right now:

I ran my fastest 5k yet the other night. I'm still getting my first mile in at around 9:45, but now my second and third miles are getting closer to 10 and under, too. The other night I did the whole thing in under 30 minutes, which was a goal of mine. It felt good.
Huntington Beach might come up in a couple of weeks again. That sounds nice.
I left a message for Jules to see if she could surf next Saturday. I have a teaching conference that day, but who cares. People gotta surf. The swell is up and looking very autumn/winter-ish, but there will still be windows for surf babies like me. Hopefully Saturday will be one.
My boss at work is - so far - very complimentary of my skills and knowledge. He often expresses that he feels like he pretty much won the lottery with me. He's right.

First Week

2010-09-16T23:12:00.000-07:00

I mean, what am I supposed to say? I haven't known how I would explain it all to you, but then I remembered that I really only have to explain it to me. I worked Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, and it was pretty depressing. The j-o-b is ok. It's fine. Mixing it with school is impossible and I can't even really think about it long-term. I am hemorrhaging homework right now. Wednesdays are terrible, tragic, no good, very bad. Work starts at 8:30 AM, school ends at 10:00 PM. The break in between the two is not quite long enough to make it from one to the other.

It all feels like an assault on my body and my brain. I just ache from sitting - everything hurts. Human bodies weren't made to sit for 9 or 14 hours a day. Everything hurts. I don't know how to tell you, but this is the hardest part for me. Jules would understand.

I had today off and I had a massage and then I went to yoga. Yoga with Sarah™. There's nothing like it, and my new schedule (let's just call all of this a new schedule, ok?) precludes me from practicing with Sarah. I did amazing today, if I do say so, and cried at the end during Savasana. But Savasana begs for tears. It's almost offended if you don't cry a little.

I'll make it, I know I will. Conditions willing, I'll probably surf next weekend or soon after, and I'll settle for a B on my first paper, and I'll keep making it to work with a minute to spare. My sister totally understands, and that means everything. This weekend is time with my brother, and we have multiple runs on the agenda. That will feel awesome, I know. He's the perfect running partner. I think it really just takes a lot of time to transition. I feel like I'm either the midwife right now, helping birth this behemoth, or I'm the thing being born. Maybe I'm both.

There are good parts, too. It's not that bad, it just feels hard. Maybe now I'll decide that we can just say it: It's all working out. At every moment right now I'm becoming more of who I want to be. It's painful, but it's worth it. Gosh, that girl was so smart.

Now, come over here and give me a big hug and a foot rub. I need 'em.

Note to Self

2010-09-13T21:00:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure how long I'll leave these up, but I wanted to share them with you guys. (After debating it for a month or so :>) These are from a session in July that Jules' boyfriend shot. I have shorter hair now. And a wetsuit that fits. And I didn't think about it until my brother said something (it's always the brother), but I do ride waves bigger than 6". Most of these are just pics of me riding in to shore after catching the wave.

I should take one of these pics and put it in my cube at work, huh? Just so I can look at it during the day and remember what matters. After training, my new schedule is Sun - Thurs, so Fridays are surfing days!

Shifting

2010-09-11T22:37:00.000-07:00

My leisurely days are slipping away. My new job starts on Monday. Monday! Yesterday I had an amazing massage followed by a little grocery shopping and studying, and Thursday was a heavenly surf lesson with the one and only Jules. This morning was class for half-a-day, and since then I've just been chilling and doing homework. Tomorrow is hang with family day.

I find myself reflecting about my time off - of course I do - and feeling ambivalent about all of the changes in my life. I feel ok about moving forward; I'm a new person now. But I wonder if I'm ready for everything that I'm experiencing and all that is still to come. During our beach talk the other day, Jules asked me if I feel like I've changed since the last time I was sitting in a cube at a bank. It was hard to find the words to answer her, and I got a little choked up, but I told her that I've definitely changed in significant ways.

That day's lesson turned out to be one of the best ever, of course. How could it not when it started out with the surf shop owner basically giving me a new wetsuit? Jules and I have asked the shop owner to keep me in mind when he does his end-of-season sale on the rental wetties, and that day he said, "Come here. I think I have something perfect for you." He had me try on a gorgeous, front-zip suit made of super-flex material. I was bouncing around the shop, not being able to keep my hands off myself because it felt so good on my body. He traded me straight across, that new (to me) suit for the one I've been using all year. Can you believe that? I gave him a big hug and he told me to get out of there. :)

Jules and I meant to paddle out but ended up spending the whole lesson in white water. The waves were just unpredictable and I really wanted to ride and not just paddle around. So ride I did. I was just feeling it - feeling it - and so I took long, smooth ride after long, smooth ride. It felt awesome. I even got one green just by chance and loved that little drop -- that feeling is totally exhilarating and better than I remembered.

I feel self-conscious about how slowly I continue to progress (sound familiar?), but I love surfing. I felt it more that day than I've felt it in a long time. Being in the water, feeling the board under my body, the challenge of it, the surrender it requires. And I love connecting with Jules, connecting with myself. The pruney fingers and toes. The uniqueness of the experience, even when there's a parking lot full of cars with boards on top. I love surfing.

I'm feeling some fear about starting the new job on Monday. And about balancing the still-new demands of school with my intense need for me-time, and sleep, and I'm wondering how I'll be able to incorporate my every-other-day running schedule in all of this. To be honest, that is more important to me than both school and the new job. My own health has a much different place in the priority list than it did last time I sat in a cube. How will I make this all happen? I'm not too worried about surfing. I couldn't keep myself away from it if I wanted to; it has far too much still to teach me. But the rest has me a little confused, a little weepy, a little intimidated. And very, very grateful. Some other time I'll write about the feelings I've had lately of disbelief -- thinking back over the last year and a half and recognizing that once again my life has exceeded my ability to dream or hope that it would ever be this good.

But for now I'll just finish out my weekend doing what I do and taking deep breaths and being open to the next thing that's ready for me, which comes on Monday. Wish me luck.

Quick Question: What's a Job?

2010-09-02T01:28:00.000-07:00

Hi guys. Let's Catch up.

I started school last week. Oh my god, what have I done? Last week was mostly orientation plus homework assignments, but I met my cohort and my main professor and it was all just a really good experience. I was stoked. And I absolutely loved my homework -- so far, it's basically reading I would do for pleasure. But this week was our first official class and I kind of wanted to kill myself or someone else. Too many reasons to go into. Frick.

I hurt my back on Sunday. Double frick. This happens every few years - I put my back out and I can't ever really understand how or why. It takes almost a week of painkillers and nothing but sleep to go back to normal. This time it's not quite as bad, so I've just cut out all jogging and surfing this week and moved around real slow, but that's not really doing the trick. So I got the painkillers today and I guess I'll add those to the mix. It's from stress, I know it is, but I would like it to go away. Now. Please.

I got a job. I know. That didn't take long at all! Remember how I needed one last Shitty Banking Job to get me through school so I can leave the industry once and for all and become a teacher? Well, I got what looks to be a pretty good Shitty Banking Job. We'll see. I start on the 13th, it's a mile or so from my house, and I can wear casual clothes. (See what's important to me now?) My schedule is swing, Sun - Thurs, so that's really different, but maybe I can surf on Fridays? I manage a small group and that's probably all I'll get to say about that. Please sacrifice a goat or throw a virgin into the volcano or whatever. It's going to be a TRANSITION.

About a year and a half ago when I moved back to Portland and tried online dating the first time, I met a great guy who I would have liked to date, but he wasn't from the area and I don't do long-distance relationships. We kept in regular touch, and he finally wore me down (that's bait, btw; he's not supposed to be reading) and I let him come up to visit about a month ago. We had a really great time, and he arrives tomorrow for a second visit. Don't go apeshit or anything because I still don't do long-distance relationships, and nobody's moving, but he seems like a great guy. He's 6'3", very smart, has a nerdy job in a good field, divorced with small kiddos, and is from the Hunting.ton Bea.ch area. Also, 6'3." I'm excited for his visit. I hope we have another fun weekend.

Ch-ch-ch-changes. It's all ~~a little~~ way too much right now. I'd like to surf really bad and let the water take all the jumbled parts and help them settle where they belong. Soon, I hope. I want that to happen soon.

Can't Always

2010-08-29T20:43:00.000-07:00

This is a recent favorite of mine from PostSecret. I don't really feel pressure to be overly cheery, but I bet that everyone feels this way sometimes.

Cheering Section

2010-08-25T15:05:00.000-07:00

Two of my blog buddies from the early days are making me all verklempt lately. D (here) is a very talented artist who makes illustrations that are fresh and incredibly expressive and complex without being pretentious. I don't know jack about art, but his work affects me on many levels. D had an illustration published in the New York Times last week. Isn't that amazing? Raise your hand if you've had an illustration published in the NYT. That's what I thought. I'm really excited for him. A sampling of his work is here.

Matt Allard (here) is a blog buddy who does things with words that will make you weep. He writes stories that are vivid and tactile and urgent. He has a unique voice - and I think that is quite rare in itself - and his very first book, To Slow Down The Time, is about to be published. Can you believe that? The cool website (where I pre-ordered my copy last night!) is here. I think a lot of people write well, but Matt is on a different level.

I'm so proud of these guys. Very deserving. It's fun to see good people with great talent get recognized.

New Math

2010-08-24T21:28:00.000-07:00

Jules and I did our thing today. I don't know; it was tough. I know I'm a broken record (Oh god, does that saying even make sense anymore?) but I'm having a hard time right now, blah blah blah, and I knew it would feel good to get in the water, but I struggled the entire day with staying present. And it's hard to surf when you're spacing off or resisting your feelings.

I took some rides on the inside just to find my feet, and then I took some green waves with Jules giving me a little push, and then we paddled out and I tried for some more green. I think I'm learning more each time I go out, but it sure is hard to understand the timing and get the amount of paddle power I need to get those green. I got some so-so rides on the inside, but couldn't get anything outside. I did try several and ended up doing slow-motion pearls, but that was kind of good because it's helpful to get used to the steepness of the green waves, even if I'm not able to ride them very often yet. Jules said she felt like I showed a lot of courage in trying new things and having new experiences.

Surfing is so hard to accept, to surrender to, at times. I must have told Jules this 100 times, but with running or banking or just about every other thing in life, you figure out what you want to accomplish, set your goal, and there are specific steps you can take to get pretty much exactly where you want to be. 1 + 1 = 2. With surfing, time in the water is obviously key, but there are so many other factors involved that you just can't get a guarantee that 5 sessions out means you're going to be 5 sessions better than you were before. 1 + 1 ≠ 2. It's one of the reasons I love it. And one of the reasons it keeps me pulling my hair out. (But coming back for more.)

While I got up for almost every ride today, I didn't have many long, smooth rides. I just couldn't feel my feet on the deck and inhabit my body long enough to ride all the way in. Weird - I don't think I've ever had that problem before. I was really stuck in my head today. The lesson after mine no-showed, so Jules grabbed her board and asked if I wanted to paddle out again. We ended up going out for another hour plus, and by the end of the day, my arms and shoulders were begging me to quit. There is a reason most surfers are in rad shape. I didn't catch anything that second time out, but made several more attempts, and had a great time watching Jules take some gorgeous waves.

Best ride of the day: On the way in for a break, Jules and I both took a wave at the same time and wound up riding in right next to each other. Once I got up and got my bearings, I looked next to me and said, "Hey!" I was so surprised to see her there, just a few feet away. She said, "Party wave!" and did a little dance. It was so fun.

Americana

2010-08-22T11:11:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had my first (and probably last - that was a lot of work!) garage sale. My apartment complex does a one-day sale each year, and having extra time on my hands, I decided to participate this year.

I had no idea what to expect, but I ended up getting quite an education. The sale was scheuled from 8 to 5, but I got cleaned out and sick of it early, so I closed up shop at 1:00. I met lots of people who live in my complex, which was great, and actually ended up talking with a lot of nice folks for quite a while. There was a lot of ethnic diversity, and the Asian folks loved me (because of my time spent in Japan and all the Asian stuff I had.) I had several folks who came back multiple times, and several who stayed for an hour or so just shopping around. I had multiple customers spend over $50 each! I wasn't even sure if I could expect to make over $100, so I feel like I really raked it in. And in the end, everything left over went immediately to Goodwill, so I didn't keep anything that I didn't need to.

I think that every person who walked into my garage said some version of, "This is the most organized garage sale I've ever seen!" That surprised and pleased me, but by about the 50th time, it made me worry about my ability to find a job and not get too wrapped up, or really do anything half-baked. I wasn't trying to be organized when I prepared for the sale. One person even mentioned my handwriting being very nice on the price stickers. Lordy. But I did have classical music playing (more for me than them) and I had everything laid out orderly and in logical groupings. I have a ways to go, don't I?

Least favorite part? People who argue with you over .25¢, or point at an item marked $15.00 and say, "I'll give you $1.00 for it." And there were plenty of those folks. Most favorite part? Interacting with all the cool people -- listening to their stories (and they were sharing, let me tell you) and just getting this broad overview of the community. I'm not a "people person" and I've had my fill for now, but I really liked the social aspect of it.

Most blogable part? When two teenage girls walked around looking at my things for a few minutes and then said to me, "Are you, like, Chinese? You've got a lot of Chinese stuff."

Have you seen me lately? I'm blonde. And 5'11". And really, really American-looking. Besides that I had nothing that was Chinese; everything was Japanese. I should have just said, "Stay in school, girls."

And Stick to Taking Orders, Please

2010-08-17T21:32:00.000-07:00

School starts for me in one week. I can hardly believe it's come up so fast; I'm still telling people that I'm thinking about looking into becoming a teacher. I'm scared. I'm afraid I'll feel out of place, that I'll get overwhelmed, that I won't like it. I'm afraid I won't do well. I'm afraid I'll be the oldest in the class.

I'm interviewing for jobs again. It seems to go in mysterious cycles - I probably apply for approximately the same amount of jobs over time, but I go through periods where I don't get calls for interviews and periods where I do. All of the interviews so far, of course, have turned out the same, but I feel particularly anxious about this latest round. I have to say certain things, use certain words and phrases, in these meetings to convince others that I've been a professional person before. And when I hear myself talk like I used to talk . . . I feel like an impostor. Like an impostor and like a person who is giving up something important. Signing away their share of ownership in something valuable. I don't like it. I know it's just one last Shitty Banking Job to carry me through school, but I've never had a job without it taking over my life. I'm worried I don't know how to do it. I'm sure it seems that after the past year and a half and all that surfing it should come easy. But what's a year and a half compared to 16 years? Or 39?

With the recent heatwave, I haven't been able to run for almost a week. And before that, I was having some stomach cramping while running so I had to cut my runs short. So now it feels like it's been forever since I've had a long, satisfying jog. And I don't really feel like myself. I've been eating shitty foods and letting outside pressures or perceived pressures influence my food choices. My body doesn't like it and neither do I.

Let me tell you a story.

I've been doing a ton of dating lately. A hundred first dates, a handful of second dates, two third dates. Pretty much all really cool guys, and I've learned something important from each experience. It's been fun and good for me, but I admit that I'm getting kind of tired of the whole routine.

But two guys made it through the screening process pretty far, and I went out to brunch with one of those guys last weekend. We went to a place where the table is a griddle and you make your own pancakes. The waitress told us the instructions and gave us bottles of batter, and we got started. I like mine really doughy so I began to flip my first pancake pretty early, and the waitress, who happened to be flitting by at the time, chirped from behind me, "Let it cook longer!!" Surprised because I didn't realize the price of breakfast included advice, I looked at my date, who said, "Yeah, you need to let it cook longer."

So weird, other people assuming they know what I'm trying to achieve with my pancakes.

I finished that one up and put it on my plate and dropped batter on the griddle to start another one. The first one was slightly overdone for my tastes, so I tried with each subsequent pancake to get them raw-er, but I just received more advice. "You have to wait for them to bubble," my date said. Strange. I have to? Why? So the waitress won't give me a drive-by critique again? I continued doing my own thing, which should probably be my life's slogan, and was making more breakfast and soaking up the atmosphere, listening to the sounds, thinking about my date. Pretty soon he started laughing. "What is that?" he said, pointing.

Such a foreign thought for me. Is it that the pancake has to be round for it to be called a pancake? Or is it that it only tastes right if it looks like every pancake has looked for all time?

I took out my iPhone to capture our food-illustrates-life moment and told him, "This is to show our relationship therapist later."

The important part of the story is this: A year and a half ago, my pancake would have been the one on the right. Last weekend, the pancake on the left felt sorry for the pancake on the right. And for the bitchy waitress who really needs to keep her opinions to herself. If my date hadn't called attention to it, I would have gone right along eating the best pancakes in the world - because I'd made them my way, just how I like them - not even thinking that I'd been coloring outside of the lines.

I can't help but think that surfing has had a major influence on my pancakes. I hope very, very much that I'll see the effects of surfing in the way I experience school next week, and eventually a job, and the rest of my life. I hope, I hope, I hope.

Adapting

2010-08-11T23:02:00.000-07:00

I had such a great session with Jules today. It's been two weeks since I've been in the water, and it felt better than I even hoped it would. But it always does. I was feeling pretty burnt out on the drive (1.5 hrs/each way) a month or so ago, so I purposefully took some time off, but I'm ready to get back at it.

I'm amazed at how much I continue to learn from Jules. Early on, she really taught me the basics and about water/board safety and helped me know what and how to practice. Then there was the time when I wasn't able to stand up yet and our lessons were just drills of pop up attempts. I wanted her with me to help me feel safe as I experienced different waves and conditions, but there are only so many ways you can say, "Push up, charge, plant your foot, and pivot." That was a long stretch of me just having to get sick enough of knee rides to want to risk letting go. I definitely learned from Jules during that period, but the scope of what we were covering was pretty small. Now that I'm riding on my feet and feeling more comfortable taking some risks, I feel like I'm in another growth period where it's just incredibly helpful to surf with her again. One lesson with Jules is like 10 solo sessions in terms of comfort and progress.

Even though I wanted to focus on green waves, I decided it would be best to stay in the whitewater and have Jules help me learn more about choosing the right waves to ride so I can have more satisfying solo sessions. It ended up being very productive - although mostly she said I just need to paddle harder and then blame the rest on the conditions. I definitely paddled harder - I can feel it tonight - but it's frustrating how much depends on the conditions! We started at almost low tide and everything was pretty mushy, but as it came in the waves changed and they really packed a punch. I was getting some real speed, which I love, but why can't I figure out when the conditions are going to be good and only surf then? Jules always says it takes years to learn to read the waves. Years? Why must everything in surfing be so not on my terms?

Today was 4' with light winds, and the water was a toasty 51°. My wetsuit is pretty big on me right now, and I'm surprised how cold I get because of it. It doesn't really trap a thin layer of water that eventually warms up, which is the goal. Instead, I have a gallon or so of water moving in and out of the wetsuit the whole time. I just end up shivering the entire lesson. I really need to figure something else out - I planned on surfing longer today but ended up too damn cold to do it!

The best part of today's lesson was that Jules had me focus on just going for it, jumping on the board and taking waves whether I was "ready" or not. It's hard to describe, but it was a great experience. I usually wait and fidget and plan and calculate, and she wanted me to just take waves without thinking about them and just operate from my gut, letting my feelings guide me. What a change. My first few rides were kind of strange - I was popping up weird because I wasn't "ready," so I would scootch around on the board a bit once I was up. After a few of those Jules said, "You know, you're kind of hopping around or something." I said, '"I know." I was just working it out. Jules also mentioned that I'm chillin' like a villain on the board with my arms down at my sides, and she said it's good that I'm relaxed, but that she wanted to give my hands a job. (Don't you love Jules? Give my hands a job. Jesus.) She wants my hands up like I'm ready to do a karate chop while I ride. And I knew from the pictures her boyfriend took during my last session that I have serious issues looking up -- in almost every photo I'm riding with my eyes glued to my feet. So I was trying to let my feelings guide me to catch the wave, and then be more aware of my habits once I was up.

I got better at listening to my gut as the day went on and pretty soon I was pulling great rides out of rides I would have ditched before. Twice I started to pearl and figured I was done, but I made small adjustments and figured it out. And once I screwed up my pop and ended up on my knees, but the ride was long so I decided to not stay there -- I just popped up later and made it on my feet for the rest of the ride. I had several where I wasn't centered on the board so I was really wobbly, but instead of going into the world famous back flop, I leaned my body in whatever direction I needed to balance and continue the ride. Change, revise, shift mid-ride. It really felt great - not giving up because it wasn't perfect. Jesus, I'm such a case. But I'm learning and I absolutely love it. I can't tell you how much I love it. On all of my rides, once I got up and steady, I said to myself, "Give my hands a job . . . and look up." It helped a lot. On one ride, as soon as I said, " . . . and look up," I bit it hard because I wasn't centered on the board and didn't notice it until too late because I wasn't staring at my feet. Jules loved that one, of course, and said I should feel it in my belly; there's no need to look at my feet to see what they're doing on the board, because I should feel in my belly whether or not my feet are in the right place. Not yet, but soon, I hope.

I had a few very tasty rides that I can still feel. We were having a discussion about facing specific fears in our lives while waiting for a good set, and mid-sentence during an intense story, Jules tells me, "Take this one - and feel all your feelings while you do it!" So I immediately took this sweet, steady ride to the left, and it was so long and so peaceful. The beach was actually packed at that point, but everything went silent during that ride and all I could hear was my own breathing. I was so present - I could feel every sensation during every second of that ride. I got choked up on that one, and when I ended my ride, I just stood there for a minute trying to get ahold of myself; I was holding my board with one hand with my head down. Jules walked in to where I was standing, and without saying anything gave me a big hug, and then we walked back out together.

I had several more like that -- long and smooth. It's so overwhelming to pop and know that it's going to be a great ride. Humbling. Electric. But relaxing, too.

It's so different from anything I've ever experienced, and it's not based in knowledge, or really even performance, or even physical effort. At least, not entirely. It's this experience of all these crazy mental, emotional, even spiritual ingredients coming together, and you couldn't force it if you tried. It's almost like it picks you. Aw, hell. I can't describe it. It's really special.

So I'm going to go back out for some solo sessions and hope that these couple lessons with Jules helped me find my mojo. Judging from the crowds at the spot today, I'm going to have to get started early if I want to avoid the chaos. I'm excited - I loved being out there today. As I went and did a few errands after my session, hair still matted with surf wax and skin caked with salt, I looked at everyone around me and felt like I had the best secret in the world. I wanted to go up to folks and whisper, "I've been walking on water."

Probably best that I didn't.

32 Years

2010-08-10T12:48:00.000-07:00

Via JMG - this man, like thousands of others, was denied Social Security benefits upon the death of his partner of 32 years. Those benefits would have been granted to any straight spouse that had been married ten minutes. Even if it was ten minutes into a fifth marriage to someone they barely knew after having serial affairs that ended the first four marriages. It doesn't matter - they would just have to be straight.

In my opinion, equal rights for our LGBT brothers and sisters is the most urgent current civil rights issue.

Thank You For Your Call from Shawn Nee / discarted on Vimeo.