girl hearts life

New Book Review Blog!

2013-03-11T19:02:00.001-07:00

If you like romance, young adult, adult, paranormal, fantasy, urban fantasy, and the hot 'n steamy, head over to my new book blog!

www.girlheartsbooks.com

Ever Have a Crisis of Self-Worth? Me Too.

2012-11-19T03:00:00.000-08:00

I've had the topic of this post floating around in my head for a few days now, keeping me up at night reaching for my iPhone so I can surreptitiously record voice memos of ideas or directions to take it in. Did I want it to be funny so that the heavy tone is somewhat lightened? Did I want to write it in the third person to give myself a little distance from something that would otherwise leave me feeling vulnerable and, therefore, uncomfortable? Or how about having it be just a stream-of-consciousness thing -- since this makes absolutely no sense in my head, why should it make any sense when its out of my head, right?

This goes on and on until I'm making myself fucking crazy because it's all still there except I don't know how to give it voice. Then, on Friday morning (and aren't Friday's the best?), an amazing realization: I need to just let all of that wondering and worrying and self-editing go, and just lay it out there, because that's what I do. I share things with you through this blog, even though it makes me seem like an insane, insecure person. Because maybe that's how we connect. You know?

And then it all came full circle once I thought about it, since the topic I wanted to write about was my need to be perfect, to get approval from others, to find value in myself only if they found value in me too. I can't pinpoint ever being taught these things, except maybe in a Pavolvian dog sort of way.

You know:
Listen to teacher = get praised
Do what you're told = get good grades
Get good grades = get even more praise
Get into college = make everyone proud
Get into law school = be exceptional
Get a good job = make people prouder still
Do whatever your boss says = get more and more praise

In this sort of way, the system totally works for me. I've been a fantastic student, a good daughter, a stellar employee. But in maybe the more important ways, the system has totally failed me. Because I'll be all of these things and do all of these things at the expense of myself, and my self-esteem. I've wrapped my self-worth up so completely in what others think of me -- she's at the top of her class; she got straight A's; she's on the Dean's List again; she received a full scholarship; she's so detail-oriented; she's so great at this job -- that when I'm left to my own defenses, I end up lost.

I run myself into the ground in jobs I hate because I know they're the jobs I'm good at, and the last thing I want to do is disappoint my bosses or try things I've never tried before. I stick to Plan A because it's a sure-thing, a safe, secure path that leads to Success, even after catching a glimpse of Plans B, C and D and recognizing that that's where I want to be instead. You know, in some ideal world. I don't take risks because, God, what if I fail? What would everyone think? Who would I even be if I didn't succeed at the things I tried to do?

I'm afraid to be wrong because I don't want people to think I'm incapable or incompetent (I shudder. Seriously, I shudder). I'm afraid to be creative because there are no rules or guidelines, nothing to let me know I'm Doing It Right. I'm afraid to say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, be the wrong way. I don't take chances because it inherently means there's a chance things will go badly.

And I've been rewarded, for the most part, for being this way, so why change it now?

Well, that's simple, really: because no one should live their entire lives based on what others think or want or value. And because we're human, so being perfect is impossible.

At least, this is what I'm telling myself. I'm taking the next month or so to really examine this part of myself, to work on figuring out what it is I want, rather than what I think everyone else wants of/for me. I need to set up systems, healthy systems, to help me break old habits and come up with new ones. I need to put those into practice. I need to spend some time on self-care, even though I think it's a bit woo-woo. I need to find my own damn worth, sans everybody else.

And I would love any resources or suggestions you may have on getting this all done.

Okay, that's all the soul-baring I can do for now.

Hello, Ireland? It's Me Again.

2012-11-14T03:00:00.000-08:00

In my last post, I mentioned that I've been dreaming lately of a cottage in Ireland (or something similar). That thought eventually spiraled into me just thinking of Ireland in general, which obviously meant I then had to go through all of the pictures I've taken while there, which led to this post.

There you go. That's how I create. Just in case you ever wanted to know (but why would you?).

Anyway, when I was a kid, the final project for Mr. Cloud's sixth grade history class was to choose a country, any country, do some research on it at the local library--this was so way before the internet that it hurts my brain to even think about it -- and give a short presentation to the class. I chose Ireland. I don't know what made me choose this small spit of land halfway around the world -- I think it had something to do with a picture I saw once. It just looked so beautiful, so far away, so green.

That assignment is when Ireland became my first Big Dream. As far as I was concerned, Ireland (and eventually Cape Cod) was the only place I ever wanted to go. Like, ever.

During the last semester of my freshman year in college, I noticed a study abroad opportunity in a department that I was considering majoring in. The program, which would focus on human rights and history, would take students to Belfast, Northern Ireland, where they would stay at the local university, study The Troubles and travel around the six counties. Quietly, without telling anyone, I applied to go on the trip. A few weeks later, I got a phone call at work letting me know I'd been accepted. I think I called everyone I knew and told them.

I took Nate back there a few years ago, though we spent most of our time in Dublin and County Clare. I wanted him to see this place, knowing it would help him to understand just a bit more about me. What that is, I can't tell you. I still don't fully understand what draws me to this place time and time again. But something does. There are only a handful of places that I've traveled to so far that just fit, and Ireland is definitely one of them. Why do some places call us more than others? Why do we dream about them? Think about them all the time?

If anyone has Ireland stories of their own -- or maybe places we should visit the next time we're there -- I'd love to hear them!

A Belief in Naming

2012-11-12T03:00:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking a lot about naming the things I want. Naming the Big Dream. Naming the type of relationship I want to have with my health and body. Naming the kind of person I want to be so as to better understand the direction I need and want to take my life in.

And then doing.

There's something to be said about putting your dreams out there into the Universe, right? Something about manifesting intentions and positive energy? (I can use these words because I live in California, obviously).

I don't have any concrete proof that all this works, but I'm going to put my faith in it because, in the end, what do I really know about how the Universe works?

So here's a dream of mine that I haven't been able to get out of my head lately:

I want to spend time in retreat. Not retreating from something or someone, but rather, retreating into something. My creativity, actually. I want to spend a week, two weeks, even a month at some hideaway. In my head, this is usually a cottage in Ireland like the one I stayed in on my last trip there, or somewhere in Mendocino County because it's one of my favorite places in California, or somewhere in the islands or mountains of Washington State. A small town, a village, a country road. Somewhere quiet and simple. Somewhere cozy, where all I'll ever want to do is be there. I want to sit at a table or in a really comfy chair and just write. I want to be free of all the distractions and excuses I usually put in front of myself (though I have a sneaking suspicion they'll probably follow me anywhere, but I want to be able to rely on something other than my own willpower--like maybe the fact that there's just nothing else to do--to get my ass in gear).

I just want a place to be for a minute, and I'd like some fresh air. Some different air.

So, Universe? If this little dream could just, you know, manifest, that would be awesome. But in the meantime, I'll see what I can do about this on my end too.

[Unemployed Life]: An 'Interview' Worst Case Scenario

2012-10-15T10:54:00.000-07:00

We all probably know what it's like to go on job interviews. It's one giant nerve-wracking, anxiety-ridden, self-confidence killing some odd hours, no matter how often you're told to think of it "like you're interviewing them." Because that bullshit? It doesn't work.

In the best cases, you love the place you're interviewing with. The people are phenomenal, the job sounds even better in person than it does on paper, and you're pretty sure you've got this one in the bag because, come on, you're super friggin' qualified for it. If this has been your experience, leave now because I think I hate you. (Okay, you don't have to leave, but you do have to go sit in the corner quietly where I can't see or hear you.)

In the worst cases (and hint hint, this post is really about the worst cases), you wonder why you even showed up -- to like, LIFE -- to begin with. You get there, and you know right away that this wouldn't be your ideal working environment. It's quiet, no chatter, not a whole lot of natural light. And where the heck is everyone? You can't help comparing it to other places that have seemed more...you. But then you think, whatever, the work is amazing -- truly, truly amazing -- so you'll deal. Plus, think of the income! The health care! The gym membership! In your head, you've already pictured those things as yours. You've gone down this dangerous road a million times in the last week and now it's too late to stop it. Your hopes are up, and it's a long way down from here.

So there you are, sitting in an empty waiting room reading last years annual report while the previous interview wraps up, and you realize that that interview has gone over the allotted time. In your now-rattled mind, this must mean that interview is going swimmingly. They must love this person. You picture the interviewers laughing and listening intently, inspired by what your competition is saying, thinking that all the rest of the interviews are pointless because this person is it. This makes your hands sweat a little bit, which is gross. No one wants to shake hands with sweaty girl. You wipe them off on the pant legs of the partial suit you're wearing, and you're reminded of how much you don't want to work at a place that requires pant suits. Ever.

And then you're up. You walk in, and there are three people in the conference room you're interviewing in. And while they're seated casually around a glossy wood table, you're not fooled, you recognize a firing squad when you see one. So it begins. Hi, how are you. Why don't we tell you more about the position. Their intelligence is intimidating. Your youth -- or maybe just the fact that, for a 28 year old, you look 16 -- makes you feel at a disadvantage already. They've done so much! They're world-renowned, well-traveled, published, seasoned vets in an arena you've only started to dip your toes in! Then they want to know more about you. Why do you feel singularly qualified for this position? What will you bring to this work? What have you done in your [short, limited] career that has prepared you for the rigors of this job and field? You answer, but the words don't sound right to your ears. You sound unsure of yourself, like you're trying to persuade them. You try to reign yourself in, to tell yourself to just be you. But you're asked questions you didn't anticipate. The job requires qualifications you don't have. You find yourself stuttering over and over, "I'm sorry, I don't have any experience with that," and "No, I've never worked on this sort of thing before." It's misstep after misstep until finally, one of the interviewers takes pity on you. They look over your cover letter once more, then look up and smile. They say some nice things, trying to either bolster your confidence or remind you of your own damn work experience. And you realize that this, this hail Mary life raft, maybe worse than if they'd just let you flounder, because now you really know you're screwed.

At a certain point, it becomes funny. You start picturing what it would look like if you ran screaming from the room, arms flailing, heels clapping over the linoleum floor, hair -- which was once perfectly coiffed -- in mad disarray. You wonder briefly if the endless hour of questions you couldn't answer has made you hysterical, or if it's just a byproduct of your self-esteem bottoming out.

Eventually, it ends. You shake hands with the firing squad, realizing dimly that this interview was significantly shorter than the last (the one that ran over as you waited in the lobby), and that they're trying to let you leave almost as quickly as you're trying to get out of there. They were nice people, nicer still because of the warm smiles they give you as you're led out. This makes you wonder if it's obvious how badly you want to laugh maniacally just to make sure you don't start crying. You feel stupid. You feel incompetent. You feel embarrassed, which is probably worst of all.

But then you get out in the fresh air. You take a deep breath, text your boyfriend to say that you've got one hell of a story for him, and check your watch to make sure you're not going to be late getting back to your part-time job. You square your shoulders, tell yourself that you'll get one good cry later tonight with a bottle of wine, and smile.

It was probably the worst interview of your life. But things can only go up from here, right?

Daily Inspiration

2012-10-09T03:00:00.000-07:00

Friends, I'm writing again. More on this to come, but if you have a glass please raise it up because this is cause for some serious celebration.

[Photo source: http://www.kmweiland.com/free.php]

The Oncoming Overwhelm and Why People Should be Nicer to Women

2012-10-08T03:00:00.000-07:00

Was it just me, or was last week an "off" week? Did anyone else feel like that?

It probably started on Saturday. Some friends and I went to a Renaissance Faire (shut up, you know you wish you were this cool) to, you know, eat turkey legs and people watch, and I was just not with it. I was with two of my favorite people and just kept feeling like a total spaz. I was lost in my own head, not really a part of the day. I felt myself tuning in and out of conversation, thinking about things that had nothing to do with jousting, dirty jokes or palm reading. The day, in the end, was wasted on me since I just couldn't pull my shit together and rally.

Then the week began and my work email hosting service bested me in the worst possible way. What was initially supposed to be the quick task of migrating mail from one host to two others (because I'm stupid and picky and want to use the calendar on one service and the mail on another. Don't ask.) ended up being me, four hours later, screaming at my computer, close to tears as Nate ignores his work and frantically tries retrieve all the email I somehow deleted from one account and accomplish the fucking impossible by getting it into another account. I hate my email. We're still not on speaking terms and my messages are still not where I need them to be.

So there was that.

Then it was just a bunch of other little things. It was my first week working solo in my part-time position and there's always a learning curve, but the little mistakes made while learning new processes always makes me feel incompetent. And an author Nate and I love spoke on the same night as the first Presidential debate and we had to choose which to see. We chose to debate which, after watching it, obviously WE CHOSE WRONG.

Finally, on Thursday things just got weird. Let me preface by saying I only had one cup of coffee. One cup. So there I am, alone in the office, trying to get through a stack of things, listening to Pandora, and I'm positively jittery. I am giggly and fidgety, dancing around in my rolling chair, lip syncing like I was Milli Vanilli. I mean, I was having a moment. And to cap off this shining moment, I got a call back about a pretty sweet job that I applied for. They want to interview me so yay! Celebrate! Fast-forward three hours later and I'm practically crying. Did something happen, you ask? Did I get some bad news? Did I make some horrible misstep at work? You guys. Nothing is clear at this point except that I am AN EMOTIONAL BASKET CASE.

And so there I am, no longer dancing, no longer feeling like Milli Vanilli, and I start thinking of the week, of the fact that this overwhelm has been building for days. I should have seen this coming, right? And that's interesting, because there's really not a whole lot for me to feel overwhelmed about right now. So what is it?

Why am I feeling super irrational, super emotional, super just a big fucking mess?

Ohhh, PMS. You. Win.

Once I actually realized what was going on, my choices for dealing became absolutely clear. I cancelled all plans I had for the weekend -- which, unfortunately, included a free bluegrass concert in the park where The Civil Wars were playing -- and told Nate that we were going to take it easy, get out of town, and spend some time together. I wanted as low-stress of a two-days as humanly possible. No crowds, no big productions, just peace and quiet and time to let the overwhelm settle, let the hormones run their course.

It's Sunday, and I'm feeling like a brand new woman.

Lessons learned? Be intentional with your time. Listen to yourself enough to recognize what it is you need at that moment, and then give it to yourself.

And also, be nicer to women. We are fucking champions.

[Unemployed Life]: Dealing with Wants

2012-09-26T03:00:00.000-07:00

Over the past week or so, I've been struggling a lot with being semi-unemployed in the face of the things I want. This is probably the most frequent reoccurring problem I face and has the ability to get me down and put me in moods I'd rather not be in because they're just not productive.

And the truth is that I've come a long way in some respects. I used to shop -- like, seriously shop -- when I had no money to do it. If I saw something I liked, I'd somehow manage to rationalize the purchase regardless of what it cost or what I had in my bank account. I shopped for therapy; I shopped to kill boredom; I shopped to make myself feel better about my body; I shopped to purchase things for others so they knew how much they meant to me. But I'm happy to say that things have changed. I'm hyper aware of my spending these days. I rarely ever go into clothing stores because I can't afford to buy anything and I don't want to tempt or frustrate myself. I analyze then over-analyze almost all my purchases to make sure I really, really want whatever I'm buying. I'm better at saying No to myself.

But this doesn't meant that the wanting goes away. Just because I've trained myself to say No doesn't mean I don't always want to first say Yes. I want new running and hiking shoes; I want to buy a few tops from Anthropologie; I want to get a hair cut and a massage; I want[ed] to buy tickets to Jack's Mannequin's final show in L.A.; I want to take a few creative writing and grammar classes; I want more books; I want to get my dog to a trainer; I want to buy my ticket home for Christmas; I want a facial; I want to go back up to Seattle in the Fall; I want, I want, I want...

But, for now, the answer has to be and always is...no.

So when I start to get frustrated and discouraged about my situation, when I start to get down on myself about any number of things I feel like I should be able to change about the way things are right now, I try my best to get my brain moving in another direction fast. In the past, I've updated my Christmas wishlist. It sounds stupid, but this makes me feel so much better. Something about knowing that there's a slight possibility that I'll get what I want in a few months makes it seem more okay. Plus, the who wishlist process has taught me the value of thinking things over before purchasing, since half of the time I go back and delete things I thought I wanted more than life itself a few weeks after adding it to the list anyway.

I also try to do something I really love that doesn't cost any money. In my case, what I love (long car drives into the country) costs no money other than gas. But doing this simple thing makes me feel so much better. These drives have been my go-to stress reliever for years now, and they never fail to make me feel better, no matter what's going on in my life. They're my time for quiet reflection, for space, for breathing room.

And, because I'm a planner, I also tend to prioritize and plan my way through the sads. I mean, let's be real here: I don't really need new clothes, a concert ticket, or pampering. Those things would be a waste of my limited funds in the long run. The things I do really need are new shoes and a plane ticket home. So those are the things I'm going to concentrate all my meager income on getting. Going through my list of Wants and really asking myself, "How much do you need this?" has been one of my best strategies for getting over my mood [and myself] lately.

Finally, I make some serious effort to refocus my energies and turn a shitty situation into a productive one. Last week, for example, I really wanted a massage and facial after the stress of dealing with back issues for three weeks. I mean, I was willing to give you a kidney for an hour at a spa. It was that serious. But let's face it, those things don't come cheap and there was no way I could rationalize it. It just couldn't be helped. So instead, I tried to refocus my energies. I read a few blogs that I know usually inspire me to be creative, and I began writing (free!). I also re-read some books that are seriously addicting and I knew would get my mind off of my frustrations (free!). It takes effort to refocus, but it's a great way to redirect all that energy to a place where it can be useful.

These aren't fail-proof (I mean, what is?), and they don't always help me. But they've worked enough times in the past that I'm willing to continue trying them in the future. After all, I'm feeling better this week than I was last week, and I've literally gone through and practiced each of these strategies to pull myself out of the crapper of a mood I was in. Do I have any of the things on my list now? No.

Do I still want most of them? Not really.

[Girl♥Health]: Digging Deep to Find a Goal

2012-09-25T03:00:00.000-07:00

Did you know that Nicole over at nicoleisbetter.com just released an e-book all about running and motivation? Did you know you can get it super easily by clicking this link and signing up? Did you do it yet? No?

WHY NOT???

Here's the gist of what it's about from Nicole's blog: Stop Making Excuses & Start Running is a 41-page bullshit-free guide to redefining motivation that will give you the mental tools you need to get from the couch to the finish line of your dream race. Part e-book, part workbook, and part swift-kick-in-the-ass, this powerhouse of actionable steps will help you build a life-long relationship with running.

You guys, you all know that I've been trying to get healthy for the past year or so, right? I mean, that's what Girl♥Health is all about. I'm changing eating habits, trying to incorporate exercise into my daily schedule, thinking and rethinking about goals I want to make and accomplish, and planning for how all of that can actually happen when my motivation is low and my resistance is high. So I was so excited when one of my favorite bloggers announced that this little gem of a book -- which is totally applicable to all my health-related (and some non-health related) goals -- was coming out. I read it in one sitting and am slowly making my way through the prompts.

One thing that this e-book has already helped me to do in the few days that I've had is to really examine what I want. I've been saying for the past however long that I wanted to be a runner. Why? Because I wanted to be healthy. And that was my problem right there. The vagueness of this goal. Saying I want to "be healthy" is like saying I want to "be happy." It's like, no shit, of course I want to be healthy. Who goes around thinking they want to be unhealthy? So, because my goal wasn't actually a real, measurable, achievable goal, I wasn't really committed to it or the process I needed to go through to accomplish it.

This also pointed out to me the glaring fact that I didn't really want to be a runner either. If I did, if running itself is what got me going, then I wouldn't need the excuse of something else in order to do it. I would just want it bad enough that being a runner was my goal in and of itself. Sure, running still has it's appeal to me: I think runners are fit and lithe and I would like to be that. I also see running as a great stress reliever (when the thought of running itself isn't causing me stress) and a time to quiet my mind and let things sort of...go. But those reasons aren't enough for me, I guess.

Realizing all of this was, in a strange way, both a relief and slightly devastating. A relief because I can now stop beating myself up over not being "a runner" because it's not what I really want. But it's devastating because, if running isn't what I really want, than what the hell is my goal?!

This was going to require me to dig deep. What did I love to do? What health-related images kept coming to mind when I thought about my Dream Life? Where were my self-conscious hang-ups? What did I fear doing the most? When I imagined being a fit badass, what activities did I do? What did health mean to me?

The answer slightly embarrasses me. It's embarrassing because it touches on one of my deepest shames: my weight. Being a person who loves the outdoors, I seem to surround myself with other outdoorsy people as well. The upside of this is obvious: camping and day trips. The downside of this is where it gets a little bit humiliating. Nearly all of my friends love to hike. And when they ask me to go along, the thought that runs through my brain is: Dear God, please let it be a flat hike or I won't be able to do it. I've been that girl who everyone has had to stop for on a hike because I need to catch my breath. I've been that girl who has had to ask to not take a certain trail because it's just too steep. I've been that girl who has had to turn around before reaching the top.

And can I just say: it's makes a person's self-esteem feel about as low as humanly possible.

This is what I want to change. This is my goal. I want to feel confident enough to go on long-distance hikes. I want to go backpacking and not be so scared out of my mind that my weight will hold me back that I chicken out. I want to go to the top of Half Dome. I want to see places that you can't get to by car. I want to hike parts of the Pacific Crest and Appalachian Trails. This will be a physical challenge, a conquering of a fear, and a stare down with my insecurities. It's specific (finish a long-distance hike) while still being broad enough to encompass meeting small, less specific goals (like losing weight, lowering cholesterol, strengthening my core, having a healthy back, eating less crap, running, weight lifting, etc.) -- after all, I'll need to "be healthy" in order to see this through, right?

While I haven't fleshed out the details yet, I know there are tons of things I need to work on in order to accomplish this. For now though, I'm sort of just sitting with it all for a minute, just to see how it feels and if it still fits when the rush of naming it has faded a little.

[Photo source: http://nicoleisbetter.com/]

The Evolution of Friendships

2012-09-24T10:37:00.001-07:00

I've had a surprising number of conversations recently about the evolution of friendships. Mainly, about how sometimes it seems like we remain friends with those we met during childhood or high school in spite of the fact that we've grown up and changed. Whereas we seem to be friends with those we met during college and after because we've grown up and changed.

I don't know if this is true for everyone, but it seems to be true for a lot of the people in my life right now and, to a certain extent, it's also true for me. It's amazing how the seasons of our lives are marked by the friendships we made as well as the friendships we ended.

When I was a child, one of my best friends taught me to love books. She was/is so incredibly smart and, though I didn't realize it at the time (and therefore balked at it when my 10 year old brain took any notice), she held me to a higher standard than I held myself. She moved away when we were in the fifth grade but we somehow managed to check in with one another once or twice every five years or so. We evolved. We aren't best friends anymore, but we are definitely friends. We've changed, but I still love her so dearly. There are no strings attached to our friendship, no roles we claimed for ourselves as children that we've been unable to get out of as adults. We are accepting of our individuality, our growth. And I've come to recognize that the person I would be had we never been childhood friends is so very different from the person I am and the person I want to be.

There were also friendships made during my childhood that were never meant to grow up with me. They were meant to teach me lessons, and then to fade away. From these friendships, I learned about the kind of friend I'd been, and that I didn't want to be that anymore. I didn't want to be judgmental or mean (as tween girls can so be). I didn't want to be clique-y and exclusive. Making fun of other girls, putting myself in a place of grade-school power just so I wasn't the one being made fun of was way to grow up. It made me a lousy person. These friendships taught me these lessons when they turned on me, when rumors flew and the catty stares I'd once given were now aimed my way. It was a hard way to learn it, but I'm so grateful for it. I'm not sure it could have been taught any other way.

At a certain point, our friendships can seem like rocky love affairs. We are co-dependent and jealous, selfish and self-absorbed. These relationships can burn bright and then burn out, and it's a painful struggle as you learn to let go. I met a girl in middle school and we just clicked immediately. She was, I now recognize, everything I wanted to be but wasn't. We were opposites and we filled gaps in each other that needed to be filled for a time. Where she was reckless, I was cautious; where she was in-your-face, I was mild-mannered. My other friends tried to warn me off our friendship but I didn't listen. We stopped being friends, the way high school girls do, more times than I can count before patching things up and being inseparable for another few months. There was a final straw involving her and a boy I'd liked for 2 years. I knew after that that this wasn't the kind of friendship I needed in my life. I slowly started to back out of it. After graduation, we lost touch almost completely. Our lives have taken vastly different roads headed in almost opposite directions. I see things now about her, about who I was then, about our friendship, that I wasn't able to see at 15. We fed each others insecurities and were in constant competition for I don't know what. But I'm still thankful that we were friends at all. She allowed me to be a bit wild with her, and that's not something I was able to do elsewhere. This was a friendship characterized by fun and freedom, even while we held one another down.

But not all high school friendships are like that one. There are women in my life right now that have been with me forever. We dealt with homesickness together during the first few weeks of boarding school. We were fans of NSYNC together. We obsessed about boys and wrote fan fiction together. We got ready for school dances and got drunk off of Smirnoff Ice on beaches together. We fell in love with Coldplay and screamed at football games together. We cried at graduation together because we worried things would never be the same. And now we're going to each other's weddings, texting one another from across the country, talking about jobs and babies and "Ohmygod, did you see that so-and-so from high school has five kids already?!" These friendships are not always easy because we became friends with certain versions of ourselves -- so it can be hard to find commonalities between us as adults. But we work at that. And we try to give each other space to grow. Because these friendships still bring something to my life; these women are familiar and funny and they know my story without me having to tell them. They are the ones that I am 100% sure will be there for me in the darkest of times because they have been in the past, no matter what. That bond is difficult to break.

And then there are the friendships we make as adults. These friendships can seem the closest, the most immediate, because these are the friends you see or talk to all the time, the friends that the You you are now has chosen. My current circle includes friends that were Nate's and are now mine, friends we've made together as a couple, and the friends I've made on my own either during or after law school. I don't know how to explain these relationships other than to say that they are so engaging, so supportive and encouraging. These are the friends I see at "Family Dinner" on Fridays and Saturdays. These are the friends who come over to bring me wine and movies when I have a slipped disk. These are my Girls Night and my camping crew. They know my drink preferences and the fact that I want to become a long-distance hiker. Our conversations are most often about issues like politics and greed and socialism and nutrition and poverty and education (and friendships...this blog post came from one of those conversations) because that's just what's important to us. We are friendships built on ideas, on who we want to become, on who we are at the moment, and the things that drive us. My life would be so much less without them right now.

This is all to say that I think the best friendships are the ones we choose to keep because they enrich us, they bring something to us and we know we can bring something to these friends. Friendships, like all relationships, require work and acceptance and space and commitment. But they are worth it. Regardless of whether certain friendships have lasted or have faded, they have all been worth it.

Today is Special

2012-09-21T03:00:00.000-07:00

I'm not usually a jumper. I'm a cautious person. I take calculated risks. It's not easy for me to trust, to put too much on the line when the end result is the product of too many variables. Things happen in life, I know this, but I make an effort to think through every outcome I can imagine, to be as sure as I possibly can before taking my next step.

Today is different. Today I jump without really knowing.

And that's okay with me.

[Photo source: http://awesomepictures.me/post/8509327101]

Recipe Roundup

2012-09-19T03:00:00.000-07:00

You guys, I have clearly been starving lately. I've been thinking of food non-stop, dreaming about mushrooms and soups and desserts. Inundating my Pinterest boards with things I want to make, recipes I can't wait to try. I'm not usually the cooking type, but seriously, I can't wait to get in the kitchen and whip some of this stuff up.

Then devour. Obviously.

Here are some of the highlights of my life at the moment:

This beef stew recipe from Movita Beaucoup. I mean, you make it in a slow cooker, which tells me two things right off the bat: 1) this is gonna be crazy simple and convenient, and 2) this is also gonna be crazy delicious given the amount of time it's given to cook (8-10 hours!). Typically, my favorite beef stew recipe is a copycat of the Guinness beef stew I had at the Newgrange visitor's center cafeteria in Ireland. I know "cafeteria" doesn't necessarily bring to mind "effing delicious," but believe me. But I'm way more than willing to give this one a fighting chance. First rainy day of fall. All. Over. It.
Speaking of rainy days. This is also going to happen. Maybe on the same night as the beef stew. Just in case we run out or something. No? Meh. I love the How Sweet It Is blog -- Jessica is friggin hilarious and all her recipes make me salivate. So it's no surprise that, although I've been anti-mac and cheese for most of my life and am still highly, highly picky about the stuff (I know, who am I?), I'm obsessed with her white cheddar and arugula pesto mac and cheese.
Nate and I made this from Donal Skehan one night last week, on one of our pescetarian days. The mushroomy, garlicy, cruchy bruschetta went perfectly with the caprese (fresh tomatoes! Woo!) and whole artichoke we had alongside it. I was worried, like I usually am on non-meat days, that I wouldn't be full after I finished eating -- this is probably one of the biggest struggles for me...getting past my own mental blocks -- but the bruschetta is pretty much the size of two pizza slices so I was completely satisfied when I was done. Definitely, definitely making this again. Soon.
I have three favorite restaurants in the world. One is the Chinese place my family has been going to for years back in Hawaii, the other is the best Thai restaurant outside of Thailand and is located in Seattle. And the last is the first Indian restaurant I ever ate at (also in Seattle) which has since moved locations and changed its name. It was there that I discovered chicken tikka masala. And the love affair began. I'm dying to try this recipe from Can't Live Without, which may be a biiiiiit out of my very limited league, but just look at it.
This deliciousness from Spoonful was dinner on Sunday. Because we had almost everything on-hand and were looking for something vegetarian to eat that was both filling and quick. It turned out to be so good that we'll be making it again before much longer -- especially with cold weather coming! I have memories of eating udon at my village Hongwanji's Obon as a kid. It came in styrofoam cups and was hastily eaten along with hot dogs and Okinawan donuts. I love when foods carry stories with them.
You've probably seen this recipe from Ambitious Kitchen floating around the internet lately. These cookies look insane and I am making them as soon as I can. Maybe right now. I mean, these are nutella-stuffed brown butter and sea salt cookies, guys. !!! What?! SOLD.

You're welcome. Happy eating.

On "Wild" by Cheryl Strayed

2012-09-17T03:00:00.000-07:00

It was the title that first caught my eye as I quickly looked over the "New Fiction" shelf in Barnes and Noble. Wild. It's one of my favorite words. It's a word I love to think about because, for some reason, it comforts me. I like to imagine the wilderness as this beautiful, untouched place. This place where there is only you and the natural order of things. It's scary, but it's honest, you know? That's the best thing about the wilderness: it is honest.

In God's wilderness lies the great hope of the world

the great fresh, unblighted, unredeemed wilderness.

-- John Muir

I didn't buy the book that day, but did go back a month later when I couldn't get it off my mind. I've been on a kick lately where I've been loving memoirs, especially those written by women who are going through it at the time. I like being with them through the struggle, and I love being with them when they find their way to the other side. It inspires me like nothing else.

So I was really looking forward to getting to know Cheryl. I knew going it that this was going to be about her journey dealing with the utter tragedy of her mother's illness and death (fair warning: you'll cry), the disintegration of her small family, her despair, the breaking apart of her marriage, her foray into men and drugs, and then her determination to hike the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) and find herself in that Hail Mary attempt. But I'll be honest, after getting a few chapters into the book, I wasn't sure I was going to like Cheryl very much. She was blunt and edgy. She said and did things that I'm not sure would be forgivable in my world. She crossed moral lines I didn't agree with, she made choices I would ever have made. There were so many moments where I thought, "No! Don't do that! Say this instead! Pull yourself together!!!" I just didn't understand her.

But I stuck with the book because I wanted to read about the PCT. I wanted the writing to make it real in my mind, to allow me to see places I've never been to and experience things I haven't yet.

And somewhere along the way, I began to realize that I'm a judgmental ass.

Ms. Strayed tells it like it is and it's a real, raw and honest portrayal of the very rocky years of her mid-twenties. The bottom came out from under her when her mother passed away so suddenly. She was young and found herself in a horrible situation, with little family support, and a marriage to a man she loved but couldn't be with anymore. She made choices. We all do. Her choices led her to the PCT and, eventually, herself.

Her telling of this intense 1,100 mile hike from the Mojave Desert to the border of Oregon and Washington is harrowing, painful and beautiful. It has also inspired me to attempt a small portion (and by small I mean NOTHING LIKE WHAT SHE DID) of the PCT -- to do something I think is impossible, to challenge myself, and to see places I've only ever dreamed about.

So in the end, I loved this book. I loved her journey. I almost yelled at Nate when he attempted to make idle chit chat with me as I read through the final two pages -- I mean, who does that?

If you like memoirs, if you like honest story-telling or if you like tales of survival in every sense, I would suggest Cheryl Strayed's Wild. I have a copy if you'd like to borrow it.

[Photo source: http://www.cherylstrayed.com/wild_108676.htm]

[Unemployed Life]: The Benefits of Busy

2012-09-14T03:00:00.000-07:00

"You are the busiest unemployed person I know."

I can't tell you how often I've heard this. From my boyfriend, my friends, my parents, my chiropractor...

To them, I know it must seem like I'm constantly running around. I'm at my awesome internship. I'm at my part-time job. I'm meeting a friend for a writing session at a cafe. I'm having girls night. I'm going out of town for a wedding. I'm going camping. I'm going on a hike this weekend. I'm having a meeting about some consultant work. I'm editing someone's e-book for publication. I'm jumping on an online tele-seminar. I have a workshop to go to in the city. I'm meeting friends at a coffee shop for a collective job-hunting session. I'm meeting my research professor for lunch. I'm seeing a friend who's in town for the weekend. I have a doctor's appointment. I have errands to run. I have a call about some copyediting I'm going to be doing. I'm going to happy hour (where I won't drink because I don't have the money, and I don't really drink anyway). I'm baking cookies for a bake-sale...

"Busy" seems to be my default setting these days. And there's definitely something to be said about not letting your life be consumed by "busy-ness" so much that you forget to see and enjoy where and who you are in the moment.

But let's be real. I've been mostly unemployed for about 15 months now. That's a long while to spend without a set place to be and thing to do from the hours of 9-5 each day. If I didn't fill my life with busy, I can almost guarantee that I'd go not-so-quietly crazy in the span of a week.

Being busy helps me to stay sane. It helps me to be productive with all this time that, if left to my own non-busy defenses, would otherwise be wasted. And most of all, busy helps me to feel useful. It helps me to not feel like I've failed at something.

So here are some of the things that have helped me to continue being/feeling busy and useful while I've been sans job:

Wake up at a self-respectable hour. This is pretty self-explanatory. Nobody likes to feel like a lazy ass and, whether you like it or not, that's probably how you're gonna feel if you're rolling out of bed at 1pm everyday. I generally set my alarm for 7:50 in the morning, and actually get myself going at around 8:20am. That way, by 9am I'm halfway through my workout, or at my desk firing up my computer, or heading out the door to a coffee shop, ready to go. When I first began forcing myself to get up in the morning I couldn't believe how many hours in the day there were to actually get shit done. It was revolutionary.

Brush your teeth, dammit. The best and fastest way for me to kill both my mood and my day is to stay in sweatpants.* Being in sweats, hair all haphazard, face maybe washed, teeth hopefully brushed but I make no promises...These are the killers of my productivity. It pretty much guarantees that I'll be in bed, snacking on chips, reorganzing my Pinterest boards until Nate gets home that evening. Cause that's just the kind of girl I am. So instead, I get dressed. I put on actual pants, brush my hair and put on some basic make-up, and choose a great pair of earrings (because earrings are my power accessory, obv).

*Fridays are the exception, guys. Yoga pants all day long.

Schedule your days out. Much like I did over outlook when I had a full-time job, I try to schedule out every hour of a typical "work day." I usually do this on Sunday nights or Monday mornings, and when I say I schedule things, I mean ALL THE THINGS. I schedule out lunch breaks, exercise, dog walking, phone calls, reminders, errands, EVERYTHING. This helps because I'm terrified of missing deadlines (cough*brown-noser*cough), so I'll do everything that's in that calendar. I also take the first ten minutes or so of the day and, looking at my calendar, write out a to-do list. This is redundant, and is pretty much just so I have an excuse to cross things off a list.

Find someplace to give your time. These are my current commitments: My internship. My part-time job. My consultant work. My volunteer work for Stratejoy. And my position as a Board Member for an organization. I'm also considering volunteering with another nonprofit and as a campaigner this election cycle. And while none of these positions (as they are currently) will sustain me in the long-run the way a full-time job would, I take them because the two worst things I could do to myself right now is: 1) Not have anything to do all day, and 2) Leave a huge, gaping hole in my resume for the months (years?) between jobs. These positions also all help to grow skills I'm looking to cultivate in myself, and to network.

Dedicate actual hours to YOU. I can't count the number of times when I had a full-time job and said, "I wish I had more time to do xyz," or "I would do that if I had more time." Well, I'm unemployed now and have no excuse. I refuse to live my life just saying "I wish" when I'm in a position to act on those wishes. So that's why I spend some time doing things I love and exploring things I think I may love. Like copyediting classes. I totally take those. And writing dates with a friend? We have those too. I read for both pleasure and research. I blog more. I hike more. I spend more time with my friends scheming things we're going to try once we have the money (like rock climbing). I'm exploring vegetarian cooking. I'm re-learning to play the piano (and eventually the violin). And I'm definitely spending more time on my relationships. This is all part of the self-care thing I mentioned earlier this week. It's a practice, and it's meant to be done daily.

Finally, I think the thing I try to do the most of everyday is job hunt. I know this one sounds less fun than maybe the others did [if you're me and think things like calendars and to-do lists are super fun], but the point of my becoming unemployed was two-fold: So that I could find myself and my direction again, and also so that I could find a job that was better suited for me. I think I've been a rockstar at spending time discovering this new path I'm on, but I also have to be practical. I need full-time work. The only way I'll get full-time work is to set aside time to look for it.

So I put that into my busy schedule too.

Final Days of Summer

2012-09-12T03:00:00.000-07:00

I know that summer doesn't technically end for another ten days, but I don't care. I'm pining for it to be fall in the worst kind of way. I've probably been driving all of my friends nuts over Pinterest since I've started populating my recently-created (and completely awesome) Fall and Winter Board.

Oh, yeah. Believe it.

I just want it to be cold and rainy and crisp so badly. I want the leaves to change color and crunch under my feet. I want to wear boots and scarves and knit cardigans. I want big family dinners and nights in front of a warm fire and Halloween decorations. I want to sit in a cafe when it's gloomy outside and write to my heart's content. I want to actually want the steaming mug of pumpkin spice latte I order from Starbucks, instead of just ordering it because it's there and, well, why wouldn't it?

I want the world to feel cozy again. And new. This is my mission in life: to make it as cozy as humanely possible.

I know that the fall usually signifies the slow slide into winter, when life generally hibernates and waits to renew in the spring. But, for me, fall has always been about feeling refreshed and awake. About celebrating what was and starting over again. And being close to people.

Is it just me, or does the country seem friendlier during these last few months of the year?

I can't wait for the fall. As I've said before, from October 1st through Christmas Day, I'm usually at my absolute happiest. The only thing that can dampen this unbridled giddiness is the fact that, living in Northern California, we don't experience the fall as much as I'd like. But I'll take a drive up into the Sierra's and take what I can get.

What's your favorite season?

[Photo source: http://le-pistachio.tumblr.com/post/30300709963]

[Girl♥Health]: Daily Motivation

2012-09-11T03:00:00.000-07:00

THIS.

Someone explain to me why I'm at my most motivated to exercise when exercise is the last thing my body is able to do. Because for the past two solid months, I couldn't be bothered to go for a run or a swim. I couldn't be bothered to even think about going for a run or a swim.

And now that I'm ~~on my ass~~ midway through the slow back recovery process (yay!), all I want to do is work out. I can't sleep at night because I imagine all the ways I'll be superfrigginfit once I'm able. I picture myself in cute Lululemon gear I don't own and can't afford, lacing up the new shoes I haven't been able to buy in six years, running down streets that are not in my neighborhood, and doing that for miles instead of the 1.5 miles that I can actually manage.

The hard part is getting this motivation to last until I'm able to do something about it.

[Photo source: http://becausewecandoit.tumblr.com/post/3583690376/awesome-legs]

Who I Should and Shouldn't Be

2012-09-10T03:00:00.000-07:00

There's a ~~girl~~ woman in my life that I've been comparing myself to lately/again. There's a lot of things that go into the backstory of why, but in essence I think it's because she's maybe what I hoped I'd be at this point in my life. And I'm not.

She's feminine and soft and emotional and compassionate. She drinks tea and does yoga and goes on meditation retreats and gardens. She's folksy meets bohemian meets hipster. She writes poetry and reads books about natural health and foods. She loves to cook and she teaches and she has this personality that just screams, "Let me nurture you!"

She was ready, at a whole year younger than I am now, to get married and have her first child.

And I've been struggling with these comparisons. Because I'm not sure I'm any of those things, but I think I should be. I think, for some reason -- even though I know better -- that as a woman, those are the things I should be.

Instead, I'm not overly feminine, I'm rough around the edges, I struggle to allow myself to actually feel my emotions, and I worry that this well of compassion I used to see in myself has somehow been exhausted. I hate tea because it has no flavor. I can't bring myself to rest or quiet enough to practice yoga or to meditate. And I've been trying to think of ways to kill my garden lately because of all the zucchini. I don't know what my style is, I can't write poetry to save my life anymore, and I read romance novels instead of books on alternative health. I think making an egg salad sandwich is a totally legit form of "cooking," and I'm not sure I have the patience or empathy to be nurturing.

But I recognize two things here: 1) None of these things are forever. They can always be changed. I can be whoever I want to be. And 2) I've been concentrating so much on the ways that I find myself lacking lately, and this too is something I have the power to change.

They talk about self-love a lot over at Stratejoy, and one of big things mentioned is that self-love is a practice. It's not something you decide to do one day and, BOOM!, all of sudden you wanna spend all day kissing yourself. Self-love is something you work at. It's the daily mantra reminding yourself that, "You are Enough." It's the time taken out of a busy schedule to sit somewhere quiet and breathe. It's the run through the woods in the early morning, or the bubble bath at the end of a long day. It's the journal entry that helps to clear the mind, or the piece of chocolate before bed. It's growing in the knowledge that being and loving yourself is the first step toward authentically showing up in your life.

See? I know all these things. I'm not a dumb person. But the practice of it is so much easier said than done. Still, I'm going to give it a go. I'm going to try my hand at the things I've wanted to do but have never really given a fair shot, even though I beat myself up for not doing it them -- vicious, vicious cycle. Things like yoga, and maybe meditation. Natural health. Allowing myself to feel my emotions as they come, rather than keeping them in to "deal" with them later. Being vulnerable (one of the values I identified while working through the Joy Equation). Trying to find the joy in cooking, because I know it must be in there somewhere.

And I'm going to try to tell myself that, regardless of whether those things become habits, who I am is okay. I'm going to try to tell myself that the only person I should be is whoever I feel like being at a particular moment.

I'm really going to try to stop comparing myself to others.

[Photo source: http://imgfave.com/view/732546]

[Girl♥Health]: The Tough Decisions

2012-09-06T03:00:00.000-07:00

Earlier this week I talked about how one of the focuses of my Girl♥Health plan for the next year is to build and nurture a healthy back. I want to be able to move, to accomplish the goals I set for myself, to do what I want.

This was never more true than it was over this past Labor Day weekend.

On Tuesday of last week, my back went out again. When it does this, there's little I can do besides be in bed. I can't sit for long periods, I can't stand for long periods, I even have a hard time rolling over. If the movement has anything to do with my hips, lower back, or my entire friggin' spine, chances are I can't do it.

The big problem was that Nate and I were heading to Seattle over the long weekend for a wedding.

Seattle. My favorite city in the U.S. College friends, old haunts, PNW weather, water, mountains, EVERYTHING I LOVE.

So you can see my dilemma.

Do I stay in bed, where my back can heal, where I'm not pushing it to do more than it can, where I can be comfortable and in as little pain as possible? Where I'll also be alone and bored and without internet (it went out on Friday, not to return until Monday) or boyfriend?

Or do I chance it? Do I pray that my back is better by Friday night, or Saturday morning at the latest? Do I get on that plane, sit for TWO WHOLE HOURS, get out and leave myself at the mercy of the group, hoping that our collective itinerary has enough time built in for me to lay down regularly and stretch my back out before I collapse?

The smart, back-health-conscious thing to do would have been to wish Nate a good time, stay home and rest up. Sure, I'd be miserable (I'd probably cry a lot, as I do), but it's responsible. It's reasonable. It's what an adult would do.

So. What did I do?

...

I said, screw it, packed my bags, and hightailed it up north.

On a scale of one to ten -- one being the base level intelligence of a dirt, and ten being the base level intelligence of a baboon -- my decision to go to Seattle probably places me somewhere in the vicinity of -15. Because, as it turns out, I have a slipped disk.

Let me put this another way. I spent an entire weekend walking, sitting, standing, moving, NOT LAYING DOWN, on a SLIPPED DISK.

And now I'm in pain. Staring at my ceiling. Again.

But (and this is a huge but), I would do it again. In a heartbeat.

Why, you may ask?

Well, because I have this to show for it:

Sometimes, it's just worth it, you know?

The Teacher's Girlfriend

2012-09-05T03:00:00.000-07:00

As the long-time girlfriend of a teacher, the start of the school year fills me with not a little anticipation and anxiety. It used to just mean the fall was here, that the bus would be packed once again in the mornings and afternoons, that stores would have amazing sales on office supplies. Now, it means a whole different slew of things.

Being in his fifth year as an honors U.S. History and American Lit high school teacher (at his alma mater, in fact) in one of California's most dysfunctional school districts, Nate is both prepared and unable to prepare for whatever the next nine months may hold for ~~him~~ us. Sure, his lesson plans are ready to go, he has healthy after-school routines in place so that he can separate work life from home life, and he goes to bed about two hours earlier on average.

But there's no way to plan for those pushy parents who believe their kids are going to write the next great American novel when they can barely string two sentences together. There's no way to prepare for those entitled students who believe they can and should be able to cheat their ways into Ivy League schools. There's no way to fortify your work against administrators who are just trying to shove their loads onto others so they can leave school early. And in a school where the demographic has so drastically shifted over the past two years from being historically black to being predominantly white and middle- to upper-class, there's no way to insulate yourself against the race and class tensions which pervade the environment.

And as Nate's partner, there's even less I can do to help him. I can accept that, with the school year starting, I now share him with more than a hundred other people, more than a hundred assignments he has to grade after he gets home at night. I understand that our weekends consist of -- if we're lucky -- a Friday night date and a Saturday full of errands before he starts working again Sunday morning. And I know that I'll worry about him when he can't sleep at night because of the stress, because the to-do lists and curricula won't stop running through his mind.

But it's never easy.

He does wonderful work -- and he's a fantastic teacher. But his job isn't easy. With more resources, a better teacher to student ratio, a cleaning up of both the district administrators and the teachers union, higher pay, a damn contract under which to work and argue for rights, maybe things would be better.

But until then, welcome back. School is now in session.

[Girl♥Health]: The Thought Behind the Plan

2012-09-04T03:00:00.000-07:00

Now, I'm not a doctor or anything, but I think something may be wrong with my back.

Just a hunch.

Things have been mostly fine since the last time I messed up my back alignment. Maybe I've had a few aches and pains, but I haven't been laid up again until now. In the last few weeks, there has just been more activity happening -- dancing at weddings, carrying heavy luggage, minimizing my belongings, going on 9-mile hikes, taking road trips, sleeping on uncomfortable beds. I also haven't been stretching ~~on a daily basis~~ at all. And now I'm paying the price.

I've been lying in bed staring at the ceiling for what feels like forever.

So as I start to plan out a new exercise regimen (because what else can you do when you're unable to move?), I think I should focus on one or two things: a main goals I hope to accomplish, and back health.

The Goal(s)
I actually have three goals that I hope this exercise plan with allow me to accomplish.

Goal #1 is bring my cholesterol down. As I mentioned before, the last time I went to the doctor and had my cholesterol checked, it was high. Scary high. I was told that, unless I could lower it on my own, my doctor would recommend that I begin taking cholesterol medication. She gave me this warning because doctors tend to not want to use this type of medication on women of child-bearing age since it has a tendency of making it difficult -- if not impossible -- for those women to have children.

I want children one day, so I want my cholesterol to be at a healthy level -- according to my doctor -- by the end of 2013.

Goal #2 is to run the 10k at the Dawg Dash next year. I can't do it this year because I'm nowhere near in-shape enough, and I already have a job-related commitment that same weekend, so I'm looking ahead. I'm hoping to run the entire 10k, which means I'll probably want to get in one or two 5k's as training runs before the Dawg Dash itself.

Why this particular run? Because I'm a Husky! Go Dawgs!

(Okay, yes, I know that was completely nerdy.)

Goal #3 is to hike part of the Pacific Crest Trail. I'm reading Wild by Cheryl Strayed right now, so that's where the idea came from. And I've been wanting to see the High Sierra's, but haven't felt in-shape or brave enough to make the trek. I obviously don't want to do the entire PCT -- because that would be crazy -- nor do I want to do it alone (I think I've already convinced a friend to do it with me, but if anyone else is interested, let me know!), but I'd like to backpack along it for a few days. I'd like to be fit enough to have the confidence to do that.

My goal is for this to happen next summer (or whenever the best conditions are -- I haven't done my research yet).

Back Health
Finally, I really have to figure out a way to manage my back because this just can't keep happening. As you've just read, I have goals, man! I have things I want to do, and I need a healthy back in order to do those things. I can't have my back taken out by a mostly-flat 9 mile hike if I want to be able to do part of the PCT and live to tell the tale.

The problem is that I'm just not sure of my limits yet. I know I can't lift heavy things -- but how heavy is too heavy? I know I can't bend past a certain point -- but where is that point? And does this mean I can't do pilates or yoga? I didn't think sitting for long periods would effect me -- but am I wrong? And will my hips always hurt after short hikes? Does this mean I can't accomplish my PCT goal?

These are all things I need to figure out (read: ask my chiropractor) as I create this plan.

I also need to start stretching and strengthening my back daily. To do that, here are some chiropractor-recommended stretches that I'm going to be incorporating into my daily routine:

Hamstring stretch: holding for 10 seconds; 4 times on each side
Hip rotator stretch: holding for 10 seconds; 4 times on each side
Knee-to-chest stretch: holding for 10 seconds; 4 times on each side
Quadriceps stretch: holding for 10 seconds; 4 times on each side
Prone press-up: holding for 10 seconds; 4 times
Partial curl-up (or crunch): 10 times
The bridge: holding for 1 second; 15 times
Wall slide: holding for 10 seconds; 4 times

It's a lot to think about, a lot to plan for.

But it's also a lot to look forward to.

[Unemployed Life]: The Truth Comes Out Eventually

2012-08-31T03:00:00.000-07:00

While I know I've mentioned it a few times before, I don't really talk too much about being unemployed on this blog. If you trace your way through the archives, I'm sure you'll find the word unemployed said in passing on more than one occasion, but you won't find the full story behind that word. I started this version of this blog months after I quit my previous job, so many of you probably don't even know the story behind the full story. I think I've been quiet about it for a few reasons: embarrassment, and a desire not to pollute this blog with negativity.

But here's the thing: I'm not really all that embarrassed, and this experience has been almost anything but a negative one.

So I've decided to break my semi-silence and be as honest as I can about this whole unemployment biz.

I guess that starts with giving you the full story.

Three years ago, I graduated from law school with a JD I didn't really want to use, an upcoming bar exam that I didn't really want to take, and no idea where I really wanted to go from there. I took the bar, didn't pass, and spiraled into my quarterlife crisis.

Nate and I had just gotten our own apartment and adopted the cutest dog on planet earth, and the expenses were rolling in while I was rolling in uncertainty. I began looking for work and applying for anything I could find in the immediate area. That was my first mistake. Eventually, three months into freaking-the-fuck-out, I got an interview at a nonprofit that would hire me to do a job I was completely overqualified for and pay me a fraction of what my JD is actually worth. Despite feelings of unease and reservation, I took the job. That was my second mistake -- not trusting my gut/guide/inner-smarty-pants.

I spent a year and a half there (my third and final mistake), working for someone who, while a great visionary man, wasn't the best at managing a staff. I was good at what I did, I didn't shirk my responsibilities, and I always kept a positive and professional attitude in the office. But I was also overworked, under-compensated, held to near-impossible expectations and just plain old unhappy. I'd cry before work in the morning. I'd try to figure out ways to contract non-fatal diseases so I could get out of work trips. I'd take my work home, on vacation, and out to dinner with me. I was unable to separate it, to compartmentalize this now-toxic part of my life. So much of this was, I now realize, on me and not the job or my boss. But it still needed to change.

My self-esteem was shot. My mood was in the dumps. My relationship with Nate began to suffer. I was anxiety-ridden. I felt like there was no way out. I knew this feeling. I'd been there -- for other reasons -- before. I was depressed.

So I got out.

I cried when I told my boss I was quitting. The conflicting emotions -- guilt, relief, terror, uncertainty -- it was all too much. After all, I was giving up a steady paycheck in the middle of a recession -- who knew when I would get hired again? Nate and I had talked, and my quitting meant we needed to leave the apartment we loved and move in with his mother. We just couldn't afford our place on one salary. So while I knew I was making the right choice for me, for my health and hopefully for some future career I couldn't yet see -- I felt like I was failing him.

But once we were resettled, once things quieted down and I was far enough away from the bad choices I had made once upon a time...things began looking up. And when I say they looked up, I mean they looked WAY UP.

I took an internship at an organization that worked in one of my passion areas (it was unpaid, which just goes to show you how much I wanted it). I started taking some long, hard looks at my health. I re-prioritized my relationship with Nate. I made new friends that are so freaking supportive of my dreams that I wonder how I got by without them. I learned that there are places out there that really do respect the work/life balance. I began recognizing other passion areas, and taking steps to explore them, you know, just to see. I found my back-bone, my hard limits and my desire to just be happy.

For now, I take work opportunities -- as a project manager, as a legal researcher, as a writing/editing consultant -- as they come, and on a case-by-case basis. Being with a partner who supports me both financially and emotionally gives me the luxury of doing this, of holding out and searching long and hard for the type of work that will light me up. It gives me the luxury of looking at opportunities and asking: Does this work have anything to do with my Big Dreams? How will it effect other areas of my life? Will it build skills that I need to work toward my Big Dreams? If not, then do I need the money enough to settle?

So when I say that unemployment is not embarrassing, and when I say that it hasn't been all that negative of an experience, that isn't to say that it hasn't been a struggle. It has. It is. All growing experiences are a struggle.

I'm going to continue sharing this particular growing experience with you as part of a new series on this blog called, Unemployed Life. It'll be the good, the bad and the practical of my attempts at finding work that fits into my life while still managing to live my life in a positive way.

No more hiding.

[Girl♥Health]: How "Food, Inc." Changed My Life

2012-08-30T03:00:00.000-07:00

Last summer, Nate and I went on a road trip from Lexington, Kentucky up to Boston, Massachusetts. While there were many amazing, beautiful stops along the way (Whitesburg, KY; The Blue Ridge Parkway; Shenandoah Valley; The Inn Boonsboro; Philly; NYC; the North End; etc.), the one that comes to mind today is the two days we spent in Cape Cod. While there, we stayed at the Bluefish Bed & Breakfast (which I can't recommend enough) where, upon entering our room, we saw that the Innkeepers had kindly left a copy of Food, Inc. for us to watch if we were so inclined.

That was one of the things that made me fall in love with this place to begin with. I mean, that's a pretty strong statement, right? Having Food, Inc. be the only DVD in your room? I adore this place.

Anyway, I was not so inclined at first. I'd somehow managed to avoid watching this movie since it first came out in an all-out effort to maintain my comfortable, enabling dietary habits. I thought (correctly) that if I really knew what was going on behind my food, I'd have to make some serious and difficult changes. Because animal rights is a sticking point for me. Animal welfare is pretty non-negotiable. So, if I didn't know, than I didn't need to change, right?

But then Nate wanted to read a book on our first night in Cape Cod. And I had just finished my book. And Food, Inc. was the only DVD in our room. So I thought, what the hell? I popped it in.

And spent the next hour and a half crying.

Since then, I've been in a continual state of turmoil. We've changed our buying practices so that we now buy all pasture-raised, grass-fed/finished and organic beef or pork, free-range and organic chicken and eggs, and we buy less meat altogether (because the ethical stuff ain't cheap). When we do buy, we try to stay local and make sure the animals were as humanely and naturally raised as we can get.

But that hasn't eased much of my guilt. I still picture cows in CAFO's getting plowed over, or pigs getting squished before slaughter, or baby chicks...okay, I'm not even gonna talk about the baby chicks. This is the shit I think about before biting into that burger, people. It's sick.

However, I also know my current limitations. I know what my willpower can and cannot do in a fell swoop. I know my history and my cravings and the excuses I'll give myself. I know I'm weak. Food, in so many, many areas of my life, has always been my weakness.

So I'm starting small.

In addition to the more descent buying practices highlighted above, I've also decided to go lacto-ovo pescatarian (eats fish, dairy and eggs, but not meat) three days a week.

Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays = no meat.

And this is me, one week in, saying it's going well. Actually, it's really not as hard as I thought it was going to be. In my head, I thought cutting meat out was going to signal the end of the world. WHERE'S MY BEEF?!, I would scream as I starved, withered and eventually died. Stupid. It's so much easier. We eat a lot of roasted veggies and pastas and egg salad sandwiches (because I can never stop eating egg salad sandwiches...though this has now got me thinking about the egg industry...). Because our garden has been producing like it's preparing for the next famine, we have boatloads of tomatoes and basil that I can mix with some olive oil and balsamic vinegar, throw on some toast, and call it a day. And the zucchini, oh, the zucchini. We've started leaving some on our doorstep hoping passersby will abscond with them.

In terms of how this non-meat diet three days a week thing has been making me feel, I can't say I've noticed a huge difference. I have noticed that I now crave meat at times when I don't think I used to actively crave it. I'm hoping this is just my body adjusting. And maybe I've noticed feeling a little...lighter. Whether that's physically or morally is anyone's guess at this point.

But it looks like vegetarianism hasn't killed me. Success!

Another big dietary change lately has been that I've begun keeping a food and exercise diary. And while the exercise diary is sadly, sadly empty at this juncture (because my back is out YET AGAIN), it's been great seeing not only what I've been eating, but the emotions behind it. If you'd like to begin keeping your own food journal (highly suggested), I'd suggest using this template from Nicole Antoinette. She's fantastic. It's fantastic. Go forth and eat well.

So that's the update on the food front. Less meat. Better meat when it's on the menu. Food and exercise journal. Back is out. Food, Inc. changed my life.

[Photo source: http://www.documentaryfreak.com/documentary/food-inc]

Keeping the Camelot Dream Alive

2012-08-28T15:17:00.001-07:00

I wasn't aware of this, but it's apparently only a little known secret that, for all of high school and the start of freshman year of college, I wanted to be and worked toward being a journalist. Back before I got brainwashed into going to law school (joke), I had dreams that ranged from working at The New York Times to writing puff pieces for women's magazines. The things that would now give me pause when considering this profession -- the crazy up-all-night hours, the absurd deadlines, the necessity of networking and cold-calling and interviews -- were the things that originally appealed to me. I wanted to be in the thick of it, you know? I wanted to write the news, in whatever form it took.

So when I started watching HBO's The Newsroom, it took less than a nanosecond for me to love it.

If you were to ask me at 17 what kind of news I wanted to report, this would be it (minus the whole broadcast part. I wanted to do print.). I wouldn't have been able to tell you that in so many words, of course, because after all, I was 17 -- what did I know of politics or the media machine or the fourth pillar? But if I did know, News Night 2.0 would have been it. Real news, less bullshit. Less concerned with bias and more concerned with providing all the facts. Does that make me idealistic? Sure. Does that mean I'm a sucker for those fantastic and impassioned lets-rally-all-ye-troops speeches a character gives from atop their soapbox at the end of each episode? You bet your ass.

But that's okay, isn't it? Isn't it a good thing to want to improve the way our news is presented? Isn't it good to want to make it more honest? Particularly this year, don't we want a more informed electorate instead of one that agrees with everything Fox News (or its liberal equivalent) says?

Yes. Emphatically yes.

My one gripe about the show right now is that the political agenda of the creators is perhaps a bit too obvious. While The Newsroom readily and accurately critiques and points out the idiocies of one political party, it fails to do that to the other. Which, contrary to the entire premise of the show, isn't presenting all the facts, just the facts that line up with your views.

But that aside, what's really not to love? Witty, Gilmore-Girl-rapid-fire dialogue, sharp commentary on the greed and powers at play behind the media, love stories (raise your hand if you keep referring to Jim and Maggie and JimandPam. Just me?), a chance to reflect on the biggest news stories over the past 2 years, Dev Patel, Sam Waterston and Jeff Daniels? Come on.

Come. On.

The first season of The Newsroom just wrapped on Sunday night. There are 10 episodes. Find them and watch them. Let me know if you want company.

Please Don't Feed the Gringos

2012-08-27T03:00:00.000-07:00

Thoughts on our trip to Baja...

Do You Speak My Language?

Here's a fact: I look Mexican.

I do, and that's cool. It's due to a mixture of my Portuguese, Native Hawaiian and Filipino heritage, and has made for many interesting interactions since I moved to California. Once, for example, while in a gift shop at Discovery Kingdom, the cashier started speaking to me in Spanish. When I apologized and said I didn't speak any Spanish (not even a little. Not even the embarrassing amount of Spanish most normal people speak.), he started yelling at me for not knowing and respecting my Mexican culture.

That was fun.

So, last month when Nate suggested we take a trip to see his friend in San Diego, then head on down to Baja for a few days, I worried a little (Lie. A lot.) about the language barrier. While there, worry turned into a full-blown culture crisis.

Who was I to come to Mexico and not speak Spanish? Does that make me one of those snotty American tourists who feel like the entire world over should speak English just because I do? Does it show disrespect to Mexican people? What do I do when someone addresses me and not Nate (who does speak Spanish, but doesn't look at all Mexican)? Does this mean we have to stay in all-tourist areas -- where Americans are catered to -- rather than getting to know the "real" Baja?

So many questions!

And while it turns out that many/most people in Baja are bilingual (and therefore totally show me up), we were also lucky enough that our friends (one of which was from Tijuana) were able to field most questions directed at me -- like, What would you like to eat, Miss? Can you please get out of the middle of the walkway? No, that is not the way to the bathroom! Still, not speaking the language and dealing with feelings of first world privilege and guilt ended up having a big impact on me. I began avoiding eye contact with everyone. I, who may just well be the most sickeningly polite person you know, began looking down at my feet instead of saying Thank you!, or This food is delicious!, or Yes, please hold the chiles!

My takeaway? Learn a second language, dammit!

Uno Mas Taco, Por Favor (see what I did there?)

My second takeaway from Baja is that the food is delicious and I thankfully have a stomach of steel. Nate, unfortunately, did not fare as well and was sick for a week after we returned to the states.

Our plan, food-wise, was to sort of do Baja the way Anthony Bourdain did, and add in some extra stops along the way. So here are some places to check out if you're heading down south:

Mercado Hidalgo, Tijuana (right after you cross the border): Really cool market with lots of yummy fruits, veggies, tejuino (fermented corn drink), and household goodies.
Dandy del Sur, Tijuana (near Revolucion Ave.): One of the bars Bourdain went to; a quiet, cool place to get a drink.
Mariscos Chavez, Tijuana: A food cart that served me that delicious fish taco pictured above.
Mariscos, Playas (on Avenida Del Pacifico, near The Wall): Get a seat on the balcony overlooking the beach and order a seafood coctel. Die happy.
Tacos de Frances, Playas: Good late-night al pastor taco spot.
L.A. Cetto Winery, Valle de Guadalupe: Free wine tour. Pretty setting. In Baja's wine country.
Hussong's Cantina, Ensenada: Do yourself a favor and don't go to Papas y Beer. Go here instead. There are peanut shells on the floor and live music. There's also a Pink Floyd cover band on some nights.
La Guerrerense, Ensenada: Famous and seemingly delicious to everyone who ate it. I didn't partake because these seafood tostadas are SPICY. Another Boudain stop.

We also had the best tortas I've even eaten, but I have no way of directing you to them other than to tell you the shop was in Tijuana, next to a liquor store. I'm sorry.

So Close and Yet, So Far Away

Though I've lived in California for about six years now, this summer was the first time I'd ever visited Mexico. While in college in Washington state (and still now when I visit), my friends and I regularly made the trek up to Vancouver, BC for shopping, that one time for the Olympics, and most often because we're craving all-you-can-eat sushi. But going south of the border? Nope.

I'd like to say it's because of the distance, but that's not it. After all, you can stand on the outskirts of San Diego and actually see Tijuana. It's that close. And, okay, maybe it's eight hours from where I physically live in California, but that didn't really factor in either. The truth is that the thought of going made me nervous. The thought of crossing the border -- that border in particular -- gave me so much anxiety it's just stupid. I don't know why. I'm an American citizen. I don't traffic drugs, weapons or women. I really had nothing to be afraid of.

So, maybe I was apprehensive because crossing the border, seeing how our nation has so completely barricaded ourselves in (lest the terrifying invasion of Mexican immigrants happen! Gasp!), would force me to acknowledge my privileged place in the world, and my shame at the extents to which my country will go to keep that place. Because let's face the facts here: That wall? You know the one I'm talking about. It's absolutely ridiculous. It's racist and cruel and obvious and shortsighted. And reading the things that people have written on the posts of that wall made me -- as an American -- feel like the biggest hypocritical asshole in the known world.

Or maybe I was apprehensive because being in Tijuana would point out to me how wrong I've been about the city itself. Because in my head, Tijuana was a John Wayne western. In my head, Tijuana was a gang fight on the cusp of getting really bad. In my head, Tijuana was what they still show us on the news. But in reality, it's just a city like any other. It's one that's struggling to come back from years of narco-terrorism, drug wars and the American recession. It's one that's reclaiming its identity and seems to be in a constant state of reconstruction.

I'm excited to see what it turns itself into.

A PSA For You College Kids

2012-08-24T03:00:00.000-07:00

Please note the Buster Posey bobble-head. Go Giants!

Last week, things got a little out of sorts in my house. I started -- for no apparent reason -- to feel cluttered. Everywhere I looked, there was just tons of stuff. Clothes I never used, files I never opened, papers I never looked at and books I never read.

It all had to go.

So then, (two days later) I'm sitting in a completely de-cluttered environment, staring at bags upon bags of crap I have to take to Goodwill, and I realize that most of this stuff is textbooks.

I have hundreds (thousands?) of dollars worth of textbooks that I'm just going to GIVE AWAY.

As someone who is at the mercy of contractual/consultant-based work, you can see why this might make me crazy. Here I am, sitting on tons of money spent on things I will never use again, while I'm having trouble scraping together money to pay my bills.

Anyway, this got me thinking about college and law school, and how poor I was then, but how I didn't bat an eyelash at buying these back-breaking textbooks. Wouldn't it have made more sense to rent those books like we rent movies? Wouldn't I have saved tons of money? Wouldn't I have enjoyed returning my Property Law textbook at the end of the semester and never having to look at it again ever in my life?

CampusBookRentals.com (the nice folks who asked me to talk about their service), where were you when I needed you?!

So, here is a public service announcement for all your college-goers: Rent your textbooks! It makes so much more sense, right? Go online, search for book, rent said book for however long you need it, save about 40-90% on the cost, highlight all over the book, and ship it back for free when you're done with it. I've used it on more than one occasion -- once the agony of paying for books I'll never read again became too much to bear -- and it was all smooth sailing and pretty straight forward for me.

In the end, here is what you won't be doing three (or seven) years later: Running around your house like a madwoman throwing away everything in sight because your mountain of textbooks has driven you insane.

Learn from my mistakes. And good luck this semester.

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[Full disclosure: My opinions on this blog are always my actual opinions. But sometimes, because a girls gotta pay her bills, I do accept money or monetary goods in exchange for writing about a service or product I use and love, or that I'd like to use and love given the chance. This is one of those times. Don't hate.]