9.30.2007

Loving It.

The past few days have been pretty darn amazing. Old roommate Espy and Lauren got married on Friday, and I was lucky enough to be invited to participate in the wedding as bridesmaid.

I drove to Burbank to pick up the bridal party for a 10 am hair appointment. I killed time studying here:

















I found this in my mocha, which is a pretty good way to start a wedding day:


A little bit clearer than the Jesus on toast phenomenon.














Pictures of the wedding are forthcoming- this is pending permission from the bride. Suffice it to say that the groom was handsome, the bride was beautiful, and by the end of the night it was clear that both of them would do anything for love (they would even do "that").

9.22.2007

All-Purpose

"When you were in high school, where did you see yourself in ten years?"
"Married and pregnant."

I honestly believed that I was going to be one of Stockton's young mothers. When we saw the young mothers with her baby in the high school day care center, I would ask young boyfriend jokingly "Can we have one of those?" He always knew that I was joking less than my tone suggested, and just said "Maybe later."

I look back now and wonder why I wanted that baby so badly. It wasn't because I thought I was mature enough for a baby. I didn't have my own home (heck, I didn't even have my own room in Stockton). I didn't have a job. I didn't have a line of credit. I had an S-Mart Foods membership card, but I figure that would probably not make any top ten "Must Have for Baby" magazine lists.

It wasn't because I was in a happy stable relationship. If we were happy, it was an "on average" happy- if you looked at the wild ups and downs of the relationship, you could take the mean of the given values of happy over the three years we were together and conclude that yes, this relationship was happy. In the same way that the temperature in Death Valley is, on average, rather tepid.

Leaving high school and venturing into the murky future of "What's next?" is scary. Even the simple idea of going to college was complicated with questions of which college, which major, which concentration. After twelve years of having my life dicated by the Stockton Unified School District, I was being let out on my own. It must be what lab animals feel like when member of PETA release them back into the wild- right before they get eaten by something that wasn't hand raised by humans.

Children tend to give parents an amazing sense of purpose- there is nothing that can guide a person more than the task of devoting eighteen plus years of your life to raising a functional, productive member of society. Life would have been much harder had I given in to my first impulse to have a child- but it would have been so much simpler. The next eighteen years of my life would have been decided and all I would have to do was live it.

Instead, life is complicated. Life is full of which job, which degree, which future- all choices that I have to make, all choices that I have to live with. And always, once I make one decision, there is another one I need to make right around the corner. After deciding against having a baby at the glorious age of eighteen, I find that I am happier for the choice that I made then, and for the choices that I make today.

Life is nothing but the choices that we make.

9.11.2007

I got tagged (and it's Contagious!)

The Rules:
We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.

Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.

People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules. At the end of your blog post, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.

Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.


My Eight Facts/Habits

1. I don't have a desk at home for my laptop, so when I'm IMing you, or sending you and email, or reading online comics, it's usually from bed. I am lying prone, and my lappy is on my chest and I type with my hands near my face. If you remove the laptop, I look a little bit like an overturned turtle, or like the dead squirrel I saw in front of Mike G's place a couple days ago.

2. I used to spend tons of money on groceries, and then go out to eat. A couple of lifestyle changes have helped to curb this expensive and wasteful habit. Both changes focus on making food fun- I go out to the farmer's market every weekend, and I make bento box lunches for work. Farmer's market has good food, free samples, people watching, and all sorts of other wholesome shenanigans. To prevent food boredom, I make sure that I buy something I've never tried before. This Saturday I picked up some French purple potatoes and some sort of carrot-parsnip hybrid. The bento box makes packing lunch fun. I try to keep it fast by making portionable food over the weekend and freezing it. I also buy a lot of bento sized packaged foods I can just zap in the microwave or throw in my lunch bag in the morning- potstickers, diced squash, edamame, and sesame sticks come to mind.

Since I started doing this, I think I've saved at least a hundred dollars a month on my food bill. I think I'm even eating healthier. Last time I went out to eat I have Chili's southwestern egg rolls. I usually can put those away with minimal effort, but after two bites nausea set in fast.

3. I sleep with an elephant. I've had it for four years. It is my constant companion.

4. I like to read books, but often I'll opt to re-read an old favorite or a book I vaguely remember from my childhood than try a new one. They're less likely to disappoint. I recently picked up "Seven Brides and Seven Brothers," a fairy tale from Iraq I remember reading in the fifth grade.

5. The Root Cellar by Theodore Roethke is my favorite poem.
Nothing would sleep in that cellar, dank as a ditch,
Bulbs broke out of boxes hunting for chinks in the dark,
Shoots dangled and drooped,
Lolling obscenely from mildewed crates,
Hung down long yellow evil necks, like tropical snakes.
And what a congress of stinks!
Roots ripe as old bait,
Pulpy stems, rank, silo-rich,
Leaf-mold, manure, lime, piled against slippery planks.
Nothing would give up life:
Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath.


A close second is Langston Hughe's Mother to Son. I actually choreographed a dance to Mother to Son. I've never performed it, or shown it to anyone, but it's still in my head.

6. I sing along to songs on the radio. That's prolly one of the main reasons why I like driving by myself more than driving with passengers- I guess it's rude to suddenly spit "Baby Got Back" rhymes when someone is small talking to you about that weird dream they had the other night- or maybe it was yesterday?

Often I don't know the words, so I make them up as I go along. It gets to the point where I have completely forgotten that I made those words up in lieu of the actual lyrics, and I passionately argue with folks about lyrical content ("No, guys, it's totally 'I hope you Pray,' not 'I hope you Dance.' Don't be lame."). My lyrics are usually way better than the original. Trust. I'll prove it to you next time I give you a lift.

7. I once painted the house of a guy I was dating in an effort to get his mother to like me. Suffice it to say I will probably never ever do anything like that again.

8. I think ages 18-30 are when fuck ups are most forgiveable. Not just little fuck ups like "oops, I forgot to take out the trash." The big fuck ups like "Ooops, I majored in something I didn't care for and have wasted 30,000 dollars I don't have on a career I won't be pursuing." I definitely have had my share of fuck ups. I'm currently paying for all the things I've fucked up in the past, and I go forward in life certain that I will fuck up several more times in more debilitating ways. Strangely enough, I don't think I've ever been more at peace with my life than I have been these past few weeks.

I'm going to go ahead and not tag anyone in particular. If you want to participate, go ahead and leave a comment saying you've posted- I'd love to see which parts of your life you think are worth posting.