Month: February 2014

February 28, 2014

The Coffee Crowd

In high school I wanted to fit in.  I wanted to wear what everyone else was wearing, speak with the same Valley inflection like everyone else (we were the original Valley Girls),  and mostly become one with the popular minority.  It never happened.  And I’m grateful for that because I grew up to be me.  I didn’t adopt someone’s life.  I made my own.  So I was shocked when I noticed that I had quietly slipped into my old high school ways.

I was a drone following the crowd, doing what everyone was doing.  And really, who made them important enough to blindly follow?  The quick answer.  Me.  It’s satisfying to be one of the crowd.  I admit to savoring the smug feeling when someone new tries to order a drink at Starbucks and doesn’t know the proper lingo.  “Tall, Pike with room…please.”  Does it get more obnoxious than that?!

I like the routine of standing in line and ordering the same thing every day.  I like leaving my house ten precious minutes early so I have time for my daily fix.  Wait.  No, I don’t.  It stresses me out.  I check the dashboard clock constantly as I drive into work.  I know that I need to get off the freeway at 8:20 or earlier to make my stop and still get to work on time.  As of today, I’m done.

No more Starbucks.

My instant and best reward….time.  I can actually chew my breakfast.  Or, if I want to really live on the edge, I can sit down at the table instead of leaning against the counter.

The money savings is substantial…enough for a weekend in Mammoth, Palm Springs, or Laguna Beach.  (Since this is my fantasy, I get to pick the places I want to visit.) My daily coffee and ice-tea habit costs me $4.40 a day, or $17.60 per week, which factors in my 4 day work week.  If I’m generous with myself, I can pretend that the year only holds 48 weeks where I do this.  Grand total of yearly waste…$844.80.

Guess what? I have a nicely functioning coffee pot.  I have a to-go carafe to hold my coffee.  Here’s my new plan.  The morning coffee I’ve been throwing down the sink because I don’t have time to drink it before rushing off to buy coffee (tell me you don’t read crazy here) is now going with me to work where I will drink it at my leisure.

I’m all for technological advances, new ideas, new places.  But life throws enough at us that it is ludicrous to manufacture our own stresses for no reason other than ‘everyone else is doing it…’  Good bye Starbucks!  I’ll miss you and your caffeinated employees.  If you ever come looking for me, I’ll be the one leisurely strolling into work a few minutes early, belly full, warm coffee in hand.

 

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I’d rather spend my money traveling

February 21, 2014

Life with Mayhem

The everyday big picture is often fraught with life hurdles; work, health, personal…the usual that blocks our life path in a million different ways.  It’s easy to get stuck hyper-focusing on the seemingly insurmountable issues.  I know it.  I’ve been there and continue to do it no matter how many lectures I give myself. Some days though I find success in laughing at the little picture which helps me to buffer my awareness of larger events.

Welcome to our pup.  The dog who makes me crave the big issues because her little issues are unendingly exhausting and yes, children I still find her…somewhat adorable.

Mayhem, my new name for our over-active pup, is on three weeks of no exercise, due to a leg injury.  Imagine what it is like to live with a creature that craves, needs, and must have movement and yet said creature is only allowed to walk to the water bowl, food bowl and outside to go to the bathroom?

Miserable, is the lightest word I can come up with.

Day one…Mayhem wakes up at five a.m. and wants to play.  We put her on the bed where she proceeds to pounce on us, drool on our faces and bark until we get up.

She then sits/dances/bounces at my feet while I painstakingly put on my mascara.  I’m close to leaving on time for work when I feel it.  I have to sneeze.  Wet mascara and sneezes don’t work.  Nor does pinching the bridge of one’s nose.  It hurts though.  I sneeze mightily and manage to ring my eyelids and upper cheekbones with mascara.  I finally convince Mayhem that she really wants to go in the crate with her favorite chew toys.

I leave for work ten minutes late.

Traffic is scary with motorcyclists attempting to become instant organ donors as they barrel in and out of traffic.

My headphones give me a cold headache because they sat outside in my car overnight.  It feels like ice cubes are being shoved into my ears.

I stop to get coffee because I need it.  I dribble the first and next sip onto my blouse and slacks.

I trip walking up the steps to work, spilling more coffee.

The inside door is locked.  I put everything down and root around for my office keys.  Everything spills out of my purse.

When I put my key into the lock, someone opens the door from the inside and I almost fall.

I decide that maybe three weeks at home entertaining Mayhem may be easier than trying to get to work.

 

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Mayhem (Izzy) at six weeks

February 14, 2014

Hiking – Wildwood Canyon in Thousand Oaks

Unless you are lucky enough to live in the mountains, there are few places where you can drive for a maximum of ten minutes and reach a great hiking trail.  We have our own hidden spot where we have hiked for years.  From our house to the trail is about three good song lengths at most.  (Or two back to backs of Meatloaf’s, Paradise by the Dashboard Light.) Last weekend my husband, the wild and crazy pup, and I hiked Wildwood Canyon in Thousand Oaks.  I haven’t laughed that powerfully in months.

To start at the beginning, we decided to hike one of the trails we like most, backwards, which for me entails having no idea where I am, because I’ve never done it that way before and even if I had, I still would have been confused.  So I followed my husband down into the canyon that rims a waterfall.  We were lucky enough that the slight drizzle we had last week made the waterfall bounce and spray over the rocks.

It was cool with soft clouds covering most of the sun’s glare.  My husband was thrilled.  He never, ever likes to be hot.  The trail we chose had great leafy tree coverage, more than a trickle of running water, and birds filling the crisp air with their songs.

We reached a junction, that I’m sure I’ve been to hundreds of times so I confidently said, “This way,” only to not so quickly realize that nothing looked even slightly familiar.  My husband’s theory was that we’d eventually land somewhere near our car.  We hiked on.

We reached a crossing where the water rushed exuberantly over the rocks.  The pup, who loves water, decided she wasn’t crossing.  She sat down and looked expectantly at my husband.  He crossed to show her how easy it was.  She was less than impressed.

He crossed back over, heaved her up into his arms and carried her over.  She landed on the ground and happily licked him to show that she was proud of him for figuring it out.  We still can’t figure out who is training who in our whole puppy/human situation.

He reached an arm across to help me and the man who has perfect balance started to dance, and not on purpose.  His feet spun.  His arms waved.  And I swear there was a cartoon bubble over his head that read, “Whoa!!!!!”

Have you ever watched a 6’8” man flail about trying not to fall on slippery rocks?  Since he eventually righted himself without falling, I can say it was the funniest visual I’ve ever seen.  I could hear Curly from the Three Stooges and all of his sound effects as my husband wobbled.

I can’t say that I saw much of the rest of the hike because my eyes were blurred with tears from laughing.  Every time I looked at him, I laughed.  I snorted.  I even drooled.  One of the best hikes I’ve taken in a long time.  I was outside.  I was with my husband.  And we were laughing like kindergarteners.

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The beginning of the trail

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Near the waterfall

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The waterfall

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Beautiful trees

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I love this part of the trail

 

 

February 5, 2014

Happy Birthday Trouble!

The day he was born it snowed.  In Southern California.  He came into the world screaming after twelve hours of labor and an emergency c-section.  He didn’t sleep through the night for 10 months.  And he never stopped moving from the minute he woke up, until the wee hours of the evening when he would finally pass out.  The boy we fondly, with a hint of weariness, call Trouble was born 25 years ago today.

He joined his patient and far too understanding 3 1/2 year old sister, Princess, and made our family complete.

Trouble ate dirt with great abandon.  He danced on chairs, couches, and on the fireplace hearth.  He yelled.  He laughed.  And he cried mightily, but briefly when he fell.

We have a two year old picture of him at preschool where his smile and eyes are filled with innocence and peace.  He remembers getting in trouble for not listening to the clown who was taking his picture right before it was snapped.

When he was five, he watched the same video of a dirt mountain getting blown up over and over again.  He cheered every time the dirt exploded into the air.

We did not buy him toy guns or any other toy that could be mistaken for a weapon so he took wood blocks and ran through the house yelling, “Pow!”

He never played inside of a jungle gym.  Instead he always elected to climb along the outside until he reached the top.

He sprained his neck jumping on a trampoline.  He broke his elbow skimboarding on the sand.  He broke his finger and nose playing basketball.  (These are only a small sampling of his injuries.) And still he has never stopped examining the world in his free form, all out fashion.

He made his sister a music mix-tape CD when she went off to college and stared, without sound, out the window the entire two hour drive home.  As soon as he could drive, he met her to surf on the weekends.

He never chose the obvious path, instead choosing to muck through weeds to find his course in life.  Where once he wanted to be a garbage man, then an NBA basketball player, he chose medicine as his field, not for anyone but himself.

When his grandfather lay dying two months ago, he drove hours to sit by his bedside.  He sat stoically with all of us listening to stories and holding his grandfather’s hand.  When it was time for him to leave, he stared at his beloved grandfather, giant tears rolling down his face.  He whispered that he loved him and squeezed his hand one last time.

He always reminds us with funny texts, a quick call, or a long email note how important we are to him.

He and his sister are the splash of sunshine that lurks behind every cloud.

I love every chaotic, loud, sandy, dusty, funny, empathetic, hungry inch of him.

Happy 25th Birthday Trouble!

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Some of the colors ‘Trouble’ has added to our life.