Day 208--My top 11 moments of 2011

If I had to give it a label, I would call 2011 The Year of Growing Pains.  In this past year I graduated college, moved to San Diego, and attempted to start a career in book publishing.  Lots of crazy has happened for better for worse, and these have been my favorite moments of 2011. 

11.)  My last night in Arizona 

My last night in Arizona was a blast.  All of my good friends from the past 4 years showed up at La Bocca for salami, brie, hummus, mojitios, pizza, and pita.  We toasted, we laughed, we got a little tipsy, and it was one hell of a send off before my move to San Diego.  Oh, and I almost forgot, just before I took my taxi ride home my best friend in college and I hit up everyone's favorite local sex shop one last time.  Oh, ASU.

10.) Day 37-- Love

This day was the first day that I felt like I truly lived in San Diego.  Walks along the beach, holding hands, and a sweet piece of dark chocolate rocky road.

http://inkspotsandcuteflip-flops.blogspot.com/2011/07/day-37-love.html

9.) Trips to SF, SJ, and LA

Ok, I may be cheating a bit by including all three, but my favorite trips this year have all been interstate weekend hellos that cleared my head and inspired me again.  The visit up to SF was the quickest.  It was to see an old friend for the night and we got hilariously saddled with (1) her roommate breaking up with her no-good boyfriend and (2) a guy friend who didn't take the hint that it was time for him to leave.  We drove around the city belting out Adele and walking around The Exploratorium's patio and columns. I sincerely debated moving there and applying for an internship at Salon Magazine, but instead I drove to my new home in San Diego listening to Jack Johnson with the windows down and speakers up. 

I've had several good visits with grandma and the one in November was my favorite. She's always so encouraging in my life and wants to me to move to New York and talk to Oprah.

LA was a real blast as well.  I had been feeling blue from lack of job and direction, and seeing The Actress was just what I needed.  We got some dinner and a movie (Horrible Bosses) and headed back to her place to eat sour gummy worms with her roommate and watch Love and Other Drugs before the tranny hookers came alive in the night.  It felt real to be around one of my friends again.  And I really needed that boost.

8.) Day 107--Postal Service mornings

I love mornings that start with The Postal Service and the latest chapter of fanfiction.  That morning I was feeling high from an author event the night before, and getting the 'ok' from my publishing house to start researching a contest to get a high school student published.  I felt alive and filled with promise.

http://inkspotsandcuteflip-flops.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-love-morning-that-start-with-postal.html

7.) Halloween potluck

Halloween was a lil weird this year since I had to work that Saturday night, and I didn't get home until around midnight when everyone was already home and puking in their Rainbow Bright and Pimp outfits.  Sunday was planned on being more mellow and tasty.  We all participated in a potluck of chili, potato salad, green bean casserole, and some shrimp pasta--oh, and some wine and iced cream.  We cooked, we ate, we took a ton of pictures, we capped the night off with Evil Dead 2, and I felt like I had found myself a group in San Diego to call my own.

6.) Kayaking on a lake

I have wanted to kayak for about 4 years when I first started visiting San Diego and would watch the kayakers journey along the calm and scenic Mission Bay.  This 4th of July weekend my boyfriend and I joined his family for a family reunion at the brand new Arkansas lake house.  As soon as I could, I hit the kayak, and it was everything I hoped it would be: easy, serene, and playful.  I went out kayaking everyday I was there.

How to kayak on a lake

5.) My 23rd birthday party Ho Down

For my 23rd birthday, my boyfriend and I got to spent the night at his folk's really nice desert house away from everything.  Some good sex and champagne later and we were relaxing outside with him and his pipe and me with my Sylvia Plath looking out at the desert landscape.  We came home for my Ho Down party where everyone had to dress up like a country ho (flannel, short shorts).

It started off with my closest friends all looking a lil' country trashy happy for some hot dogs and the hotub. As the night progressed it turned into a dance party, with a very vocal rendition of everyone singing "Fuck You" by Cee-Lo at some point around 1.  It mellowed into a smoke out in my room and another dip in the spa.  The best part was the morning after when all of those easter egg party favors I left out in the baskets (my birthday's in April) ended up in the most bizarre hidden Easter egg spots, like in the rafters and in the butter container.  We were still finding eggs weeks afterward, haha.  Sorry, roommates.

4.) Picking up a Mexican Gentleman of Leisure from the border 

Next to the patrol cars and dusty gas pumps he was standing there in his starched pink suit shirt, khaki slacks, and pale straw hat with a leather band around the middle--the kind of hat my grandfather wore so many years ago.  It may not have been a limo to pick him up, but our 2010 Honda was a welcomed site for the humored gentleman.

The best day at my internship at the publishing house was when me and my co-worker picked up our "Mexican Gentleman of Leisure" author (as I dubbed him) from the border.  He came over to deliver a lecture on writing tips to a community college in the area and with his wit and old age, I fell in love with story-telling, writing, and publishing a little bit more.

3.) Running into the ocean in a little black dress at 3am

And so I ran across the sand and into the ocean with my little black dress on and my black heels in hand, and let the 3am calm coolness hit me as my feet made it into low tide.  Never in my life have I seen the ocean more beautiful.  It was a slightly overcast sky that meshed well with the mellow waves, making that edge beyond the white crests look like the most peaceful place you could ever reach.

I thought for a moment that it was the absolute perfect place for a surrender.  

It was one of the best moments of my life, without exaggeration

The full story 

2.) Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 movie premiere

For 10 magical years of film and 13 years of readings, Harry Potter created a family between strangers and imagination in those still willing to believe.  At midnight of the July 15th, we, in our cloaks, robes, and glasses, said goodbye to our hero.  It was a shining moment, and as silly as it sounds, it felt like a salute to our childhoods as well as to Harry.

My review 

1.) Graduating college

Ok, so my degree hasn't amounted to anything yet, but I can say without hesitation nor reluctance that graduating college was one of the most (if not the most) important moments in my life.  There was never a doubt that I would walk in the robes and cap for my graduation day.  There have been and still are simply too many women in this world who will never get the chance to be where I've been to not accept the honor of walking.

My family came from farmers, drunks, and a few too many regrets, so this was a moment for them as well as for me.  This was for my mom who dropped out after a year.  This was for my dad was hid his illiteracy for his whole life.  But mainly it was for me and the feeling of finally achieving a dream I harbored since I was a little tiny kid.

The two day ceremony was quite something.  There were thousands of maroon-clad graduates at commencement, and I chatted with my classmates knowing I'd probably never see them again.  We wished each other well in poverty and spirits in having an English degree in 2011, and slammed our shitty professors one last time for good measure.  And then it was time to stand up and be congratulated for entering the club of educated men and women of Arizona.  We crossed over our tassels started screaming and laughing as "Firework" by Katy Perry began and surprise fireworks popped over the open stadium.  

My mom was there, and my boyfriend of the past 4 years, and my best friend and favorite roommate in college, plus her boyfriend who's friend of mine too. So many hugs and pictures, and the most beautiful purple flowers I've ever seen.  Some grads go out for drinks, I wanted to go out for lava cake.  Mom went home and the 4 of us headed back to where the heart of my college was: the outside of my favorite apartment at Domino's.  The 4 of us had a life in that apartment.  At various times and who was home: we loved there, fought there, nearly broke up and broke up and made up, had girl time watching Sex and the City and making margaritas before class, we had parties there and dinners there, we had alone time there procrastinating in our global studies or literature essays--we lived there, and on my graduation day there was no other place I wanted to be but home.

The next day I received my diploma around 8am.  I texted my mom as I sat down, "I just graduated college, Mom." And when I was alone outside before we all huddled together for some Ihop, I spoke quietly, "I just graduated college, Dad" and smiled while a few rebellious tears slipped out.  I did it.

Day 207--"Revolution" and iced tea

The bf is sitting in my black chair somewhat reading the latest Margaret Atwood novel as he's thinking of the next bout of our lively debate of how to talk to people objectivity when, in real life, most people interpret comments personally.  

It doesn't matter if a speaker intends to offend or simply says an objective statement that is taken offensively, that person being offended will still harbor resentment towards the speaker. So how can you talk to people? I say think before you speak, and he thinks there could be a better tactic not involving sugar coating.  And so I go back to merrily type my latest post while listening to Black Carl and he goes back to reading and sending me some flirty looks here and there, making me laugh.

The end of the year is almost here and I've been doing my back-burner tasks of posting old pictures on facebook, working on blog drafts, and sometime before midnight I have to pay my car registration to Cali.  

It's been a real nice day.  Breakfast consisted of dark chocolate and the last of the stale sugar cookies, and I wore my new cut off black sweats barefooted around the house looking for our latest copy of Food+Wine.  No one in this house cooks but we have tons of cookbooks and food magazines for some reason.

A few hours of photo selection and uploading later and I had the past 7 months posted, tagged, and captioned--all while eating some left over beef pho and drying my hair.

The boyfriend came over after work in a sexy healthy mood.  He's been sick these past few days and I brought him some pho and a back rub last night at his place.  He opted to stay at his house one more night as to not get me sick, so this afternoon was a warmly flushed reunion. 

I always enjoy the after and sleeping on his chest being nice and toasty.  We got to talking about relationships and friendships we have and had, and how he doesn't understand why people have relationships that "end", whereas for him relationships are relationships and continue through change or decline or increase.  When we first started dating he told me that when he loves he loves forever.  In knowing him, it's true.  Whether or not you have stayed in contact with my boyfriend, he has thought about you and still cares for you.  The love we have may change or grow or decline, but I can assure you that this love will not disappear, and cuddled up under green sheets on a foggy December night I was feeling rather happy.

Ah, here's the latest bout, he says when it comes to telling the truth if the truth is not spoken with bluntness it would not be the truth.  I say comedic telling of the truth will be listened to more readily.  We debate this a bit before telling each other some cock jokes and and I say, "Back to me and why I'm so amazing."  He's reading again and I'm back to typing.

"Here's a question," he puts out there, "If you were to poll all California women and they had to chose a survey of what's more important: facts or feelings, what would they chose?  And what would California men chose: facts or feelings?" I think about it for 2 seconds and reply, 'I imagine that most men would x 'facts', and all women would get out their pen and draw a circle for 'both'.  All women.  All.  You're welcome." He laughs and reads the latest news on the election.

We had dinner at a local bar with a surprisingly extensive menu.  He bought the first round of an iced tea for me, a Stella for him, and chicken nachos between us.  We got onto the topic of girls with boy haircuts and how our society always assume that they're lesbians. Most girls in our life with boy haircuts are either lesbians or weird and my boyfriend joked that we should bring back the word "witch" for weird girls.  'I'm not weird, I'm a witch, bitch!' All Crucible style.  "Who do I have to blame for this, Hawthorne?".  I laughed and told him that this is why I love him: he's a San Diego dude who can allude to Hawthorne and The Crucible.  I paid for the next round of more iced tea, more Stella, and some burger sliders which were awful.  I don't like sliders. I have no idea why I order them at least once a year.  New Years Resolution: never order sliders again.  We talked about The Beatles and if they would have survived as a band today, and if it was them or The Doors that had that song "Revolution".

Which brings us back to here and an unfortunate case of not having milk in the house. (sigh) I should get some groceries tomorrow.  Some Granny Smith apples, more angel hair pasta, maybe get creative for New Years like spinach artichoke dip and roasted grapes with brie cheese (thank God for gift cards!).  Goodnight.  I need to go pay my car registration and write my next rent check.

Day 206-- "It's past midnight somewhere" power hour

At midnight last night it was my roommate The Cellist's 21st birthday.  We were chatting about our Christmases in our semi-dark in the kitchen around 10pm, with her sipping water out of my ASU cup and me eating a stale sugar cookie.  Suddenly I realized what tomorrow was and asked her what her power hour plans were.  The girl didn't know what a power hour was and wanted to go to bed before 11.

Good grief.  No wonder she goes to a nerd school aka UCSD.  My other roommate Dreadlocks came out of her room and immediately started brain storming with me how to fix this power hour complacency.  We all threw on some mixed matched coats and slippers and walked over to the local liquor store for a much needed small pint of Sailor Jerry and 2-liter of Sprite.

Dreadlocks poured herself and The Cellist a shot and me a half shot [I had work this morning at 7am], and we toasted to it being past midnight somewhere.  The girl laughed, and while I know she's having a better time in Vegas right now with her family, I'm glad we were there for her first drink of 21.

It made me a little nostalgic, quite honestly. I was drinking tea around 11:45pm for my power hour.  My roommate playfully harassed me to no end until I went down to the liquor store to buy something alcoholic.  I completely froze in front of all of the bottle and pints and cans and did not know what the hell to get as the store clerk was chuckling at me.  I called up my good friend S---- who laughed along with me and convinced me to get Mike Hard's Pomegranate Lemonade because I was such a nondrinker.   It has 5% alcohol by the way, lol.

Me, my roommate, and my other friend who lived on the same floor stayed up till 1 or 2am cheers-ing and taking way too many pictures to count.  To my roommate--thank you.

Honestly though, I'm going to miss my ASU birthdays.  For my 23rd, my boyfriend and I got to spent the night at his folk's really nice desert house away from everything.  Some good sex and champagne later and we were relaxing outside with him and his pipe and me with my Sylvia Plath looking out at the desert landscape.  We came home for my Ho Down party where everyone had to dress up like a country ho (flannel, short shorts) for a BBQ/hot tub/dance party.  

For my 22nd birthday my boyfriend and I did a double date at the horse races, which I had never been to.  My friend and I bought big hats and cute dresses for the occasion, and no, we didn't win any money.  We drove back to Tempe for a triple date at my favorite favorite restaurant La Bocca where we all enjoyed mojitos, hummus, and the best pizza you've ever had. 

And for 21, aside from midnight and Mike's Hard, my friends and I took a pole dancing lesson which was ridiculously fun and rather tiring.  Strippers do deserve tips, gentleman. Oh, and my actual day of 21 I skipped class to buy booze, and my boyfriend flew in special just for the night (it was a Wednesday) and showed up with some Tiffany's, some erotica he wrote for me, and a heavy beard he grew out at my request.  Some friends came over that night for a round of Apples-to-Apples and Blue Moon.  

...I miss them.  I miss my friends.  I miss the heat of the desert on my skin and my apartments full of colors and candles.  I wouldn't move to Arizona ever again, but do miss that time and place.  I miss the lava cakes and watching Sex and the City with my girls.  I miss walks down Mill Ave to Urban Outfitters, Fascinations, and La Bocca.  And I miss being in a long-distance relationship with my boyfriend.

I miss how each time we'd see each other it was like a mini vacation where we'd go out to dinner every night, go out to parties, surprise each other with spontaneous visits and little gifts, make an effort to do something neat in the our towns at least once a trip and have sex the rest of the weekend (sorry, roommates), and just...I don't know...not take each other for granted.  

He tends to say that money is the problem, though I didn't used to agree.  Maybe it is.  Nearly every guy I know gets more alpha and antisocial when he's broke and wants to hide it.  Me too I guess.  Less dates, less surprises, more jealousy and annoyance doing things out of necessity, or resentment if paying for things turns into 70-30 instead of 50-50.  If we were wealthier would we have the same problems?  Maybe.  But maybe less.  I don't know.  I know that I miss him.  And in a way, I miss me too.  

But I guess that's the best thing of a new year.  A fresh start.  A chance to be better.  I want this year to be about growing, situating, making good solid decision based on happiness, and opening up to new possibilities.  I think that 2012 is going to be another year of transition, but hopefully by the time my 24th birthday rolls around in April I'll be able to toast to you and to me and to the happy things to come.  Cheers!

Day 205 (b)-- 11 reasons I hate my job

It's no secret that I hate my job and the past week of events have only highlighted further that my job is AWFUL.  My grandma likes to tell me to write things down; that crappy jobs will be useful to me in my stories.  So here's me writing them down.

1.) The man who called me asking how to turn on the heater.  You press 'on'.

2.) The lady who called me to ask if we carry milk in our soda machines.  Have you ever seen milk sold in soda machines?  Furthermore, just walk outside your room and check.

3.) The people who come in around 10:30am and get fussy that there aren't any rooms ready.  It's 10:30am.  Checkout isn't until 12.  Check in isn't until 3.  Hello.

4.) That lady who I'm pretty sure was using me an alibi last night.  She kept coming back to tell me weird things or start strained conversations, like how her mom has gained 2 dress sizes and she feels like it's her fault.  It's her fault. It's her fault.  It's all her fault.  She had shaved off eyebrows and odd blond hair that was colored in weird places, and she made a point to ask me if she could borrow a newspaper and then take a walk at 10pm.  Alibi, nutcase, or flirting with me?

5.) That lady who yelled at me at 7:14am because I didn't know where the marine depot was.  I know my hotel.  I know the attractions around the hotel.  I even know the restaurants and shops around the hotel.  I've never heard of the marine depot.  I offered to Google it and she informed me that it was .# miles away and how could I not know where it is?!  Well fuck, if you know where it is, why the hell are you asking me?

6.) The drug smugglers who are always older female pairs (like a mom and daughter) who buy a bunch of cheap crap then get real panic-y about mailing things IMMEDIATELY.

7.) The man who almost got me fired because I failed to call him back to tell him that we don't have extra extension cords.

8.) The lady last night who was pissed off at me because we were out of coffee.  However, I was the only one on duty and couldn't leave my station so there was nothing I could do about it.

9.) Furthermore, it makes no goddamn sense to only have one worker at a time at any job.  I mean this.  When it's one person, that person doesn't have the tools nor time to be 100% helpful to a guest.  Like last night when I was trying to check a guest in while also answering two calls and dealing with another guest waiting impatiently to help them.  What kind of service can I give when I'm that stressed out?

10.) And my hotel is shit.  The heaters don't work, the safes don't work, the bathrooms are too small, there are too many shitty view rooms, we could have sold out last night which would have giving us workers and the hotel a bonus but they decided to put 23 hours out of service to redecorate the wallpaper during a PEAK VACATION week, sometimes we have 1 pen we all have to share, the computers freeze up every 45 minutes which makes us look like slow idiots in front of guests, and I'm so busy trying to make it satisfactory that I really can't go above and beyond.  This place is designed to be barely adequate and it makes me look incompetent.

11.) And my favorite, when my boss was on the phone with an angry guest about the lack of our shuttle at 10:45pm.  After 9:30pm our shuttle driver goes home and we pay for taxi rides for our guests.  So here's my boss trying to explain it over the phone, "Sorry, sir our driver is no longer here but we will pay for a taxi." "Yes sir I know it's frustrating but we will pay for it." "Sir, I'm trying to help you." "We will pay for it." "Sir, we will pay for your taxi." Suddenly my boss hung up and looked horrified.  I asked what happened.  She looked at me and said, "Well, you heard me. I was saying, sorry sir we'll handle it. Yes sir, I'm sorry.  And the guest snapped at me, 'I'm not a 'sir', I'm a ma'am!  I'm a woman!'".  My boss got her shit and left early. 

Ok, where can I apply to next?

Day 205-- Back in San Diego

If there was ever a time for tea--or a joint--this is the time.  I've spent the past 53 minutes trying to email this publishing company and I keep getting a failure response.  I got this email from their website, which didn't work, then I spent 45 minutes searching for individual emails which aren't public, then I resent the email sans pdf files (but with two word attachments) which didn't work.  I mean, I still need to attach my resume.  Fine, I'll send it  with no attachments at all.  [waits for spam notice]. Fuck, didn't go through again!  I guess I'll settle for tea.

Well, I've been back in San Diego for a little less than two days now.  It was quite lovely getting out of the cab from the airport and realizing that it was a warm 74-75 degrees outside with tons of sunshine. The bf and I divided up the presents, cracked opened the windows, plugged in the tree, and he drove to work as I drove to the mall.

For a minute I was a little confused if Christmas had happened at all, for there was still Christmas music playing and shoppers every which way.  The Apple store was so packed you'd think Jesus was doing a book signing.   [checks email.  I think it went through that time!]

The goal I've been the most remiss about this post-college year is getting new clothes.  I pretty much despise shopping for clothes.  I'd say out of 35 shirts I can try on, only 2 would fit ok, and only 1 shirt might be a style I like.  It's completely discouraging and a waste of my time.  I understand why clothes are made so generically as they are due to cost and time, but since it's so hard for so many women to find clothes that fit them right, I wish that companies could create lines a little more custom.  Like if clothes came in 5', 5'2", 5'4", 5'"6, ect, and each height came in XS, S, M, L, or XL.  [checks email.  She responded!  She said she would pass on my email to the lady in marketing!]

(sigh) Anyway, it was quite fun anyway shopping around at Fashion Valley.  I spent most of my time in Anthropologie coveting the candles, books, cooking wares, notepads, and decor.  My perfect life would be a mix of Urban Outfitters, Pottery Barn, World Market, and Anthropologie.  

I spent Tuesday night writing my belated letters (sorry anyone who was getting a gift from me via mail!), blogging, listening to The Decemberists, and waiting for my boyfriend to come over for our In-N-Out date before picking up The Dietician from the airport.  

As we waited for her, we hung out in the car in an empty parking lot near the airport debating our past good roommates and shitty roommates.  He's had something like 23 roommates and I've had like 24 roommates. The ones I live with right now are in the bland lower middle.

I woke up at his place, lingered after he went to work, and walked home in the sunshine looking out to the beach.  Bank, post office (sorry again; only half of my letters are done), bought a BBQ chicken sandwich, and walked along the shore on my way home.

Ah, and then there was work. But that's a separate entry.

Day 203*--45 minutes in San Jose

When in the Bay Area I have to see my grandma.  As I've written in previous posts, my grandma is my favorite family member and honest to god my favorite person in my life.  She's witty, she's inspiring, she's artistic and hopeful and loving, and occasionally she forgets that Asians aren't called "Orientals" anymore.  

I'm eternally grateful that my bf's younger bro let me borrow his car.  I absolutely love bugs and jeeps; I own a bug and this was my change to drive a jeep.  The steering was looser than in my car, but the window space was awesome and it was an excellent ride.  It takes about 40 minutes to get to San Jose where she lives, 40 minutes back, so I knew I'd only have 45 minutes to spend with her before I had to be back by 3pm for ham dinner.

Lots of speeding later...

And there's my grandma all smiles and chic.  She was wearing black slacks, with a black blouse with a bright white poka dot trim at the open collar and loose wrists, with a black newsboy cap.  She was styling. 

We hugged and I took my boots off so we were both 4'9-4'11 size together.  She sat in her chair and told me that she was thinking of her sister R---- and that time my grandma convinced her to sit on the handlebars while my gma rode the bike up the hill.  Well grandma kept making bad riding moves, making a very angry R--- fall off,  only to get back on again before yet another spill.  Unfortunately my grandma and her sister have had a grudge for the past twenty years so they send each other Christmas cards but hold an unusual hate/love animosity towards each other. 

I told grandma about my work and the stupidity of my guests, like the guy who asked me how to turn on the heather (you press 'on').  She was laughing and laughing and was hopefully about my possible publishing opportunity.  

Here's another reason my grandma and my mom are so different: at my mom's house the presents were #1, and at my grandma's house we could have talked for hours and the presents could have been left unopened forever.  I finally convinced her to open her gifts from me and she had an annoyed amusement that we bought each other the same gift: the Regis Philbin autobiography.  I know she wanted to give it to me first.  Beat her to it! 

Well we got a good laugh out of that. 

We didn't have too much time left but enough time for her to tell me a little story about Grandpa.  While my Grandpa was in the hospital he saw something on tv where the couple asked each other if they were "solid".  Grandpa liked the word and called up Grandma who was doing errands or was at home for a time before returning to him.  He asked, "Ann, are we solid?".  She replied, "Forever."

Forever.  Before my grandma and I got close I didn't think I had it in me to love anyone forever.  I know now that I can love forever because of the love I have for her.  

That crazy lady.  She followed her grandpa story with a story of how she once went to a neo-nazi by accident.  An acquaintance of hers asked my grandma if she wanted to go to a meeting.  My grandma didn't bother to ask what the meeting was about and said, 'sure, I'll go'.  Well it turned out to be a pro-Hitler, neo-nazi meeting and my grandma didn't know what the hell to do.  Grandpa had served in the WWII and a mutual friend had liberated one of the concentration camps.  That friend had found a nazi hiding in one of the ovens, and when he saw him hiding there the friend got his gun and riddled the nazi with rounds and rounds and rounds of bullets out of the horror of the camp.  For the most part my grandma is a pacifist and doesn't believe in killing, but she loves how that nazi was slaughtered for his crimes.  Anyway, my grandma politely stayed during the neo-nazi meeting and I don't believe she ever hung out with that friend again.

I shook my head and hugged her goodbye.  As I left I told her about the ocean and how a few hours before my flight to Arizona I had been drinking hot chocolate on the pier looking below to the surfers and the bluest ocean she's ever seen.  My grandma loves the sea, and looked through me as if to the see the ocean I was describing to her.

Goodbye, I love you, I'll see you soon. 45+ minutes in San Jose and I arrived back for ham dinner at 2:59pm.

Day 202*--40 hours in the Bay Area

Back in the Bay.

I was in a really happy mood when we landed back in the Bay Area.  I really do love my boyfriend's family and I had a relaxed good vibe about this Christmas.

I have to admit that I experienced a rather large paradigm shift of philosophies as we were driving through the Walnut Creek-Pleasanton area.  While in high school and my trips back to the Bay I've always understood it's appeal theoretically: wealth, security, opportunity, ect.  However, on this trip I think I finally got it.  As we drove past the esteemed companies I understood the desire for work. As we drove past the nice houses I understood the desire for large families who have a safe place to grow up in.  As we drove past the hills and trees I saw it for its beauty I didn't realize I had missed.  There is a good life to be had up there and I got it.

We arrived at the house and thanked his parents again again for the gift of travel this season.  It has been such a treat, and I really do mean that, to be able to see everyone.  The bf showered and I unpacked presents under the tree.

We headed to his brothers/sister-in-law's house for Christmas dinner--which btw was at dinner time.  I don't mind dinners in the afternoon, but I dunno, I've always found it a little weird that holiday dinners are always served at lunch time.  

The house was beautifully decorated and festive for Christmas. :)  I got to try butternut squash soup for the first time, which was much sweeter than I expected (yummy).  There's a funny picture somewhere of everyone at the table smiling at the camera and I'm caught with a spoon full of soup in my mouth, haha.  

Delicious turkey, dinner rolls, mashed potatoes, brussel sprouts, tons of marshmellows on sweet potatoes, and I very much regretted eating that dark chocolate bar on the plane since I couldn't fit anything more in my stomach.

We watched Love Actually, which has more nudity and more men-in-power-taking-advantage than I remember.  Hey I really love the movie, but why do you need 3 male bosses falling in love with their housekeeper/secretary?  Can't you have 1 woman in power? Seriously.  Anyway, it's still one of my favorite Christmas movies and Colin Firth could be my boss any day.  So dreamy and British...

Christmas morning and everyone was up in an assortment of pjs and jeans.  As I said in an early post, this Christmas really wasn't about the presents and it was about the people, so while I was really happy with my gifts, I'm going to skip the details and just say that it was a wonderful thoughtful and playful Christmas with people I care about :)

I went to San Jose briefly to see my grandma and headed back in time for ham dinner.  Truthfully, I'm not a ham fan since it usually makes me sick but I do like the well-done ends that are slightly singed, and this ham was ridiculously tasty. 

And it was nice to be with his family.  I very much enjoy all of their company and I wished that his other brother/sil/nephews could have been there too.

To cap off the night we went to War Horse, which let me tell you was much more war not so much horse.  As it was discussed in the girls bathroom once the movie was over, it wasn't exactly what we were expecting. 

Hugs and kisses, and by 7am were we on our way to San Francisco to fly home.  Goodbye, Bay Area.  Thanks for the love and inspiration!

Day 201*-- 20 hours in Arizona

[note: this entry kinda a rant against my mom and step-dad.  Well, at least it's honest]

Yikes I'm getting a headache and I haven't even written this yet.

I remember the first time I went to my mom and step-dad's newly bought house in Arizona.  It was Christmas of 2006,  four weeks after my dad had passed away, two weeks before I started dating my boyfriend, a few days after being forced to quit my job at Borders Books, eight months before I started college at ASU, and Coldplay's "Talk" was playing nonstop in my iPod.

The plan was to go to orientation that Christmas and to move to Arizona June 1st with them until term started.  

I hated the house.  I mean, it's a gorgeous house.  I just hated how clean and hot and decisively non-me, non-my mom it was.  If I remember right, L--- further proved himself to be my mother's husband, not my step-father when he gave me a bunch of his Hurricane Katrina-ruined coins to count so we could take them to the bank (and he would give me the money).  The amount was something like $200-300 in nickles and dimes and it took me a few hours to count.  Well, we get to the bank and my counting was off by like $60-80.  I don't think anything of it, just an honest mistake and good thing they took the extremely long time to recount it.  

Well we get back to their house and my step-dad is raging pissed off at me.  He's in my "room" yelling, literally yelling at me, for making him seem foolish in front of people.  My step-dad is a former military, former cop so he's pretty scary when he's angry. There has been only one other time in my entire life where I was afraid for my life, and my body was going through the same motions of heart racing, nausea, and quick escape/self-defense violence tactical plans.  I didn't want his money.  I didn't want to move in.  But the worst of it was that my mom took his side.  She went on and on about how he's a proud man and he's done so much for us and how he doesn't like to be embarrassed.  

Flash forward to this Christmas.

Unfortunately my relationship with my mom and my step-dad hasn't changed too much.  He and I have a quasi-friendly relationship.  He uses me for story-telling about how he has a daughter, and I've used him to pay for things like rock-hit-broken car windows.  

My mom and I have never gotten over the strain.  She's in a merry mental Candyland and shows me affection with gifts and pictures, but whenever I try to have a real conversation with her she changes the topic.  Her husband is 1st.  I am 2nd.  Which is fine if I liked the guy.  I guess it shouldn't matter.  He makes her happy and gives her the security and attention she wants, and in return, he has a family and isn't alone. 

So about Christmas.  My boyfriend's dad was a real saint this year and bought us both tickets to see my mom in AZ and his family in CA.  The bf and I had been in a travel limbo for weeks.  Did we have enough money to travel, where should we travel, who's family is chosen, or do we see our separate families separately? Since I skipped Thanksgiving with my mom I knew that my choice was either stay in San Diego with him or see her.  With the plane tickets, we could see everyone.  Again, his dad is a true saint and I can't say enough thanks.

The cool part was, we were only going to be in Phoenix for 20 hours.  That's just enough to see my mom because she's my mom and to be back in Arizona where I haven't been since graduation.

Fuck...where do I being?  My mom picked us up in her little red Escape with car reindeer antlers and a red nose.  I had high hopes then and were quickly dashed when she asked to me to return the garage door opener because I'm not using it, and how I shouldn't get another unpaid internship because I have a college degree (like it means something in 2011).  Then she started going off about how they were taking us to dinner (they don't cook) but pretty much put a gun to our heads about getting this dinner special because they have a coupon.

I should note that my mom and step-dad are "new money".  They grew up really poor and shamed because of it.  Eventually they both made enough money to enjoy life more than comfortably and they show it off.  For example, as soon as we got to the house L--- started bragging about their huge new tv and how much it cost, but yet they steal sugar, and reuse plastic spoons. They can blow $4,000 on lawn furniture they never sit on, but won't tip more than 15%. 

[side note of me bragging: my bf's tv is bigger, and we always tip 20%]

So we go out to dinner.  We don't get helped for a few minutes which is fine by me because it's DEC 23RD and most people have the night OFF to spend with LOVED ONES.  Not once did my mom or step-dad thank any workers for working during the holiday.  Well, my step-dad makes a huge scene to the manager about how they always come here and where the hell is the service.  I'm completely embarrassed at this point.  Not just for me, but for my boyfriend as well.  L--- later apologizes to the manager while also cracking jokes about it.  

To an extent angry customers are right: they should be served properly.  However, most people working in the service industry have a tough life and this is what they have to do to get by.  Be compassionate to them, they'll be nice to you.

Oh, and the bf and I did use the coupon.  I'm sorry, but coupons with guests are tacky.  They just are.  

Oh!  AND WHAT REALLY PISSED ME OFF.  Some neighbors swung by our table and asked what my boyfriend did for a living.  L--- cut him off before he could talk and said, "computers."  My boyfriend grows medical marijuana.  This is what he does.  I'm really not that keen on it, but that is what he does and he should be allowed to talk about it.  Throughout the dinner L--- kept sorta asking about his work but would insert "your profession" and "the technology field".  Clearly MY MOM HAS LIED AGAIN.  I can't FUCKING STAND how that woman keeps secrets and lies.  It really really fucking upsets me.  And I didn't know what to do at the dinner table.  I mean, do I correct L--- and tell him what's really going on?  Does my boyfriend?  My mom sure as fuck didn't say anything.  The bf didn't say anything (probably politeness of not ruining the next 20 hours) and I couldn't correct it after the first statement, so the lie continued.

They did "let" us sleep in the same bed so I guess it was a victory.  My mom wanted me to thank my step-dad for "allowing" us.  I didn't.  I'm 23, my boyfriend is almost 29, we've been together for 5 years; if they didn't want us sleeping together (a) I would have left and paid for a hotel for us, and (b) they don't understand that their strict rules has meant they see me less.  

Where did my mom go?  Where did my fun mom with her whimsy and openmindedness go?  In a way, I lost her too.  

And so that was Arizona.  I saw my mom.  I was disappointed like I usually am.  And as I was sitting in the faux black leather seats at the airport I look out the window and remembered why I left Arizona.  It's nothing but dry, dead boredom and Carl's Jr.s.  

20 hours was nearly too long.

Day 200-- Loving broke Christmas with the bf and fan letter to Urban Outfitters

I'm glad it's a recession Christmas.  There's something a little more grounded this year.  Nearly everyone I know is skipping the gifts, the tree, the decorations--the material fuss of it all--and are simply making a bigger point of visiting people instead of sending presents. 

Isn't that what the Christmas spirit is supposed to be about?  The simple act of telling the people you care about that hey, you're thinking of them, and hey, they're important to you.  The holiday is more about love than money this year, which is how it should be.

And being a broke-ass community on Christmas also means that it's honestly not expected of you to give anything.  So if you do, not only are you doing it because you truly want to and, because of the misfortune of you can afford vs what you can't afford, you're forced to really think about the gift creatively and about the gift's effect, not it's value.  I have spent so many Christmases worrying about matching the price of what the other person is giving me that I've lost the spirit of things.  It's not how much the gift cost, it's about whether or not I picked it because I knew it'd make you smile, or laugh, or use it, or because you need it.  I dunno.  I just really like that the meaning of Christmas has returned in a way. 

For the first time in my life I finally understand when my mom would say she didn't need nor expect anything for Christmas.  I know I shall be receiving gifts, but in my heart of hearts, I truly and deeply don't expect anything.  I'm just really excited to see everyone these next few days.

(laughs) Now after all that, let's talk presents.

My boyfriend and I were unsure if we would do presents this year and we probably shouldn't have.  But we just really wanted to.  And for the record, my bf is the only boyfriend I've ever met who likes Christmas mall shopping with his girlfriend.  When we were out to dinner the other night (thanks to an early X-mas gift card :)  he was telling me about his happy memories of Christmas shopping with me in Arizona and how he wanted to make our shopping a date night this week.

When it comes to Christmas shopping we totally bring out our feminine and masculine strategies.  I'll think of the perfect gift (or genre ie humor, pragmatism, books, music, ect) weeks in advance [female], and he doesn't want to actually hit the stores until the day before [totally male].  He also pretends that he doesn't do any planning but inevitable right before we enter a store he'll tell me what he's picking out and it will be in my same genre if not the same gift.  Bastard. 

Tonight we hit up Target first.  We both wanted something involving music for our parents and I needed to hunt down the Regis Philbin book for my grandma.  The woman is obsessed with the man.

It's kinda cheesy but my boyfriend and I have Target dates every few months.  We'll split up to do individual shopping but irresistibly both end up in the book section pointing out novels to each other.  Last time we were in Target together we sat down in the children's aisle and read Oh! The Places You Will Go as other customers walked around us.

I found Regis and more books that I want for me (Dear Mindy Kaling, I will buy your book when it's in paperback), and I know he saw a few books for him.  Every few minutes or so, amongst the chaos of shopping carts and stressed out people, he's turn to me and say he wanted to share "a moment" where we'd just stand together happy and peaceful before returning to the crazy.  We checked out and he headed to the Starbucks kiosk so we could split a tall pumpkin spice latte on our way downtown. :)

Downtown was beautiful as ever driving in.  I may hate my job but there is something goddamn beauty about a city at night.  The lights, the reflective glass, the heels and shiny shoes, the drug peddlers, the gym rats, the tourists with their cameras a flash, the pubs and window shops, and the graffiti-meets-art on tall walls.

We parked and I practically hustled us to Urban Outfitters.   I LOVE URBAN OUTFITTERS. I love everything about that store.  I love the wacky/funny/informative/fashion/art/music/random lists/travel books.  I love the headphones and vinyl making a comeback.  I LOVE the cameras and if I had the cash I would buy all of them--especially the bubble view lens camera which makes every picture so much cooler.  I love the shot glasses that come shaped like chemistry beakers or labeled 'hot mess' and other drunk phrases.  I love the random-ass owl and clock jewelry, not that I own any.  I love the hipster clothes, not that I fit into a single shred of clothing there.  Hell, I even love that stupid squirrel-covered notebook and I despise squirrels.

Basically, I love Urban Outfitters, aka Urban, aka "The UO" my boyfriend likes to say just to fluster me and make me laugh.  We found just what we wanted and we were on our way out when I gasped and ran back to the notebook rack. "Look!  Look here! It's a comma used correctly!  "something something something [comma] douchebag!".  The people around me looked at me funny, and the bf started chuckling, but I don't a give a fuck.  Correct comma usage deserves recognition.  

And so we were off.  Bags in one hand, holding hands in the other, trying not to get mugged once we left 5th Ave. 

We did a obnoxious high five once we parked in front of my house.

Some victory sex later...and we're wrapping gifts with us playfully fighting over the tape, and he's using all of my gift labels, and I keep losing the scissors.  It was a fun night. And I'm truly truly excited to board my plane in a few hours. 

Just need to finish up a few letters, print some photos, pack, eat, shower, clean out my car, maybe get a peace scarf for my grandma, get a few more Christmas labels, wrap  my step-dad's gifts, download some music and done! 

Day 198-- Conversations with the floor

Oh if my floor could talk.  In attempts to look for my printer cord so I can print out my Christmas trade recipes, I have unleashed yet another moving box's contents all over my floor.

There's nail polish, crayons, gift bows, burn cream from my coffee-meets-toes accident at Starbucks a year and a half ago, a Shane Co pearl necklace from my boyfriend three Christmases ago, my movie stubs to July's Horrible Bosses and Page One, a few Vons gift cards half spent, a flyer of how to get published, a white watch I only wear to interviews, brown UGG boots with the right boot more worn-in on the inside lining, a Jack Johnson cd, 6 contact lenses, 1 Splenda, 3 vanilla tea candles, 2 eyeliner pencils, and 1 ASU Alumni pin I'll never wear.  Oh, and a small lit Christmas tree to the left of things.

Now, where the hell is that cord? 

Day 196-- Bacon-Wrapped Basil Stuffed Chicken Breasts recipe

Prologue: 

When it comes to potlucks, welcome the chaos, take some shots, cook something new, and watch it turn into a fabulous night. 

Last night's potluck started on walk to the farmer's market when me and my bf's roommates got to talking about the successful Halloween potluck we had in October and how we should have one for Christmas.  Somehow the neighborhood heard the news, and we almost had a too many people and not enough food.  And while there was a few minutes of stress about feeding the entire town, I've found that it's always better to have more friends over than less friends over.

And so we poured some sake shots, laughed, got out our chicken, spinach, and pasta, and thus started a truly wonderful night of good food and 90s house music.

Bacon-Wrapped Basil Stuffed Chicken Breasts

Prep time: about 15 minutes

Cook time: about 40 minutes (might be faster at higher temperature)

Total time: 55 minutes

Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 medium skinless, boneless chicken breasts

3 oz-ish cream cheese

8 stripes of high quality bacon

8 basil leaves (a few more if you want garnish)

3 tbsp olive oil

a few dashes of rosemary

salt and pepper

*optional 4 large tomatoes

Directions

1.) Wash and pat dry your chicken breasts and place them on a cutting board.  Using a very sharp small knife cut a slit into the thickest part of each chicken breast.  Rotate the knife inside of the chicken and use your fingers to create a nice pocket inside of the breast.  Repeat for each breast.

2.) Stuff each pocket with a healthy chunk of cream cheese and two basil leaves.  Seal up the pocket the best you can with your fingers.

3.) Tightly wrap two slices of bacon around each breasts, tucking in any loose ends.  Season with salt, pepper, and rosemary.

4.) Pull out a frying pan and heat up to medium heat.  Drizzle in a tbsp of olive oil.  Brown each breast until the bacon is turning that reddish/brown cooked color and the breast skin has that golden singe.

5.) Meanwhile slice up the tomatoes into large slices and preheat the oven 350 degrees. Once the breasts are all browned, get out a shallow baking dish an place the breasts next to each other with the tomato slices along the sides.  Sprinkle some salt and pepper onto the tomatoes.  Drizzle the rest of the olive oil onto the breasts and tomatoes.

6.) Cook the breasts at 350 degrees for 25 minutes.  Flip over and cook for another 15-20 minutes.  Take out of the oven and garnish with some torn up pieces of basil if you so desire (I always desire basil). Done!

Review:

Absolutely delicious!  Honestly the best chicken I've ever made, and the basil with the cream cheese was just enough to give that sweet flavor to battle with the salty bacon coat.  Served at our potluck with Spanakopita, cold feta pasta primavera, a few Manhattans, and a round of Apples to Apples.  Cheers!

Day 193--Bullies, resumes, and hippy bags

So Mid-- is back.  She's the bully of the hotel who only irritates those who realize that she's not kidding and she actually doesn't like you.  And she has a special spot of bullying just for me.

I don't what this bitch's problem is, but she really doesn't like me.  At first I thought it was because I was the youngest, skinniest, and suddenly the one who got the most attention.  Then I thought it was because I was friends which the night boss aka her arch nemesis.  And I definitely know she hates me because she had to work on Thanksgiving while I was up in Tahoe with my boyfriend's family.  Tough shit, lady. 

Examples: (1) she will interrupt any conversation I'm having--even it's in front of a guest.  (2) she will use my computer when I'm  using it.  (3) she plays with my hair, usually in a condescending way.  (4) she makes me do her work.  

Now, this doesn't bother me as much as you would think, because the truth of the matter is, in 10 years she'll still be working at a broke-ass hotel and I'll be working either in publishing, in media, and I'll have a master's degree. Hell, I may be leaving in a few weeks anyway so byebye, Mid--.

I just it's just annoying that she was gone for 2 weeks and I did her job better than she does, and in a faster time too.  She is replaceable.  Actually, her job could be eliminated and no one would notice.   The thing is, she's a large loud sarcastic lady so most guests love her and the new workers think she's a hoot.  She's not.

But the best part of working under a bully is that it's motivation to apply to new jobs, and a confidence boost that I can do so much better.

Tonight I researched the publishing house my former co-worker D--- recommended to me.  It's not quite what I want but if I can get my cover letter spruced up by tomorrow I'd like to ask D--- which person to send it too.  

And if this publishing house doesn't work out, I'd like to send out a cover letter and resume to a different publishing house each day starting next Monday.  If that doesn't work, then I'll try applying to the news stations around the area after Christmas.

In related news, I began the process to become a California resident again today!  It was a bit of a hard decision because I wanted to stay open to the possibility of Oregon come summer.  However, if I do land a publishing or media gig then I  clearly need to stay at the job for at least a year or more to gain experience on a resume.  Furthermore, I have a feeling that I'm going to need to learn some web design skills to be successful in my chosen field and out-of-state tuition at the community colleges are ridiculously overpriced.  And so it is.  

I'll be getting a "replacement" Arizona driver's license in the mail in 5 days (they don't expire until you're 65 years old), and from there I'll change over my car registration (due on the 21st) to California, and start practicing for the CA driving test so I can get my license. 

On a final note, I start Christmas shopping today.  I really can't afford it, but as long as I keep everyone at a $10 minimum I can still participate in one of my favorite hobbies--the chase of the perfect gift.  Like today's hunt for a hippy bag (I hope she's not reading).  I seriously hit 6 different shops looking for the perfect bag.  I wish it wasn't in red, but I love the size, feel, and design of it, and I hope she loves it too. 

Well, got to run.  The bf is cooking me dinner tonight. Peace!