The California Leg of the Trip

Highlights

-The uncles.

Don't be fooled by this tough guy picture. Uncle John is a softy.

Uncle Joe, who is always a belly full of laughs.

-The beach.
...with my family.

Uncle Joe also is a very good walker.

Not one word, Mom. This is a good picture of you.
May surrounded by men, just like she likes it.

-Going to the park with Uncle John who likes to fall down when he skates.

He also likes to slither down curvy slides.
I can't explain why, but this is such a "John" thing to do.

And then he took May for a ride.

-The pool.

"That face has mischief written all over it," you might be saying.

You are correct, sir! After this stunt, Joe was banned from the tossing of nieces into the pool.

But don't worry. Papa Tommy was there to catch her.
Have I ever mentioned that Papa Tommy is a goofball?

-Getting to see my cousin Megan and her cute kids.
-Getting together with old roommates for a practically perfect afternoon at the Lagoon. Rhymes!
If you think these ladies are cute, you should see their kids.

Ok.

(Sorry Kate, but I don't even one shot of Avery on here. Dang!)

-Riding the train to San Juan Capistrano and going to Zoomars with Grandma Caren.

-This picture, particularly the background.

Because What Would I Do With All Those Aprons?

Trip anecdote:
So I'm in Irvine; it's one of the first days when the girls are still on Eastern Standard Time, three hours ahead of the rest of the slumbering Pacific Coast Time neighborhood. I'm downstairs in the kitchen, fixing the girls breakfast when I start hearing an awful beeping noise, that sound I cannot stand--an alarm clock going off. It keeps going and going and going. About 6 or 7 minutes goes by when I can't take it anymore, and I charge around the house looking for the cause of the horribleness, ready to smash it to pieces. After ruling out the downstairs, I head upstairs and realize it's coming from my parents' bedroom. The door is shut so I knock. No answer. I knock again, louder this time and still nothing. The beeping is filling my ears. I start to see hot flashes of white rage. I burst in and I find my Mom sleeping beneath a pile of blankets while this alarm is just sitting right next to her, screeching its electronic brains out. It takes a couple of seconds to sort out this situation. The first thing that comes to my mind: "She's dead!" Horrified and realizing the mounds of aprons I possibly just inherited, I run over to her to find that no, she's not dead, she just has the world's best ear plugs squashed inside her ear canals. So I wake her up and she gives me that quick nose inhale, wide eyed, startled out of deep slumber head shake thing. And while I'm breathing a huge sigh of relief, I'm pretty sure that I see, peeking out from beneath her covers, the strap of the black and white polka dotted apron she is wearing over her pajamas.

Clarification

I just got an email asking if I meant to cut vertical lines into my eyebrows on purpose, perhaps as a fashion statement? Maybe the sender was remembering the unfair treatment to my eyebrows in the past? No, I did not MEAN to cut lines into my eyebrows. They were merely collateral damage.

A Confession

I've already shared this tasty tidbit with a handful of my peeps but I feel the need to come clean to the rest of you about something.

Remember when this happened?

What I didn't tell you was that seconds after Go had made the tragic too-short/too-straight cut of my bangs, fearing that I'd end up looking like Bob Costas, I grabbed the scissors away from him and riding high on a wave of self preservation, I banished Go from the bathroom and proceeded to cut the rest of my bangs myself, futilely trying to salvage the hope of not looking like an Asian man. I don't know if it was the adrenaline pumping through my veins or I'm just plain stupid but what happened was this:

I cut 7 very obvious vertical lines into my eyebrows.

It looked something like this:
Now that they've all grown in for the most part, I just thought I'd pass along a tip to any of you out there who find yourself perched on top of your bathroom counter and wielding scissors from time to time: Keep those blades away from your eyebrows unless you want to look like M.C. Hammer.

Ten Things I Haven't Been Digging in the 3 Days I've Been Home

1. Fruit flies. While we were gone, a lone banana peel was left in the kitchen trash by--just so I don't name any names here--someone who lives in our house who has put a banana in his shake every morning for the past 7+ years.

2. Laundry. Lots and lots and lots of it.

3. Anticipating Saturday morning when I'm supposed to teach spin to a packed house after recovering from the stomach flu and not working out for 3 weeks straight. Gaaaah.

4. Summer is quickly coming to a close.

5. The abundance of weeds in my yard.

6. The pile of mail that is almost as tall as the laundry.

7. Retraining my kids to snap back to the reality that no, I am not your grandparent and I will not give you anything and everything you want.

8. Readjusting to the 3 hour time difference.

9. Way below par produce. Why does CA have the best fruit ever? Coming back here and picking through these wilty, wrinkly, mealy, holey fruits makes me want to cry. I just want an orange the size of my head, is that too much to ask?

10. Driving back in PA. Apparently, a horse and buggy's top speed is about 55 mph.
How am I supposed to drive that slow on the freeway after driving out west? Impossible.

Ten Things I've Been Digging In the 2 Days I've Been Home

1. I'm feeling much better, thank you.

2. The rest of my little family didn't get that nasty flu despite the fact that out of the 25 or so people staying under the same roof at the Reynolds cabin last weekend, my Ruby, May and Go were 3 of the only 7 that DID NOT get it, for which I am very grateful. That was one mean bugger of a bug. But seriously--if you ever get the chance to get wheeled around in an airport, take it. No matter how ridiculous you feel as your kids run along side of your wheelchair while you hang over the side, hollering "Come on, girls! Quick like bunnies! Great job! We're almost there! I can't believe how fast you are! Come on, May! Catch up! There you go! Come on! You're awesome! I see our gate! Almost! Come on! Come on!", it'll be worth it.

3. I'm back in my own bed.

4. With my own divine t-shirt material sheets.

5. With my own husband WHO I MIGHT ADD HAD BEEN WORKING EVERY SINGLE NIGHT DURING THE MONTH OF JULY AND WE DID NOT SEE HIM ALL MONTH LONG BUT I COULDN'T COMPLAIN ABOUT IT ON MY BLOG (I try not to complain about residency in general at all really because seriously, what's the point? It won't change anything, it will only make you look like you've sucked on a lemon and then your face will stick that way) BECAUSE IF AN AXE MURDERER READS MY BLOG, HE WOULD HAVE KNOWN I WAS HOME ALONE EVERY NIGHT. And then my very big dog would have had to rip him to shreds and that would have been a huge mess and guess who would have had to clean that one up? Me, that's who. What a hassle.

6. My Summer Magnolia Paper Flower Kit from Paper Source which is my new favorite store that I would like to live in/roll around in/run through with my arms open wide like a VonTrapp Family singer.










7. My ducks are starting to get into a row for Ruby to begin kindergarten. Like most Moms, I'm having very mixed feelings. Blahblahblah. Orientation is in a week or so when we'll meet her teacher and see her classroom. I meet with the school nurse and principal to nail down a plan for her Diabetes care in a couple of days, which I've been having anxiety about for, oh, YEARS. An appointment is lined up with her Diabetes nurse before school starts as well but we're very used to those. We've received all the information for everything she needs for the first day and have purchased her "ruby-red" flowered backpack, her pink and green lunch bag, sparkly pink folder, and hot pink pencil case. She's ready. I'm ready. Let's do this thing. Without tears from anyone. (Gritting my teeth and blinking my eyes. Gritting my teeth and blinking my eyes. Grit. Grit. Blink. Blink.)

8. I won the best give-away ever the other day and received the coolest package from Whitney filled with all kinds of vintagey goodness. It made my heart happy. That Whitney is one classy broad.

9. I've been looking at all the pictures I took on my trip. There are over 800. They're too precious to get overwhelmed by them. That's what I keep telling my self. Over and over.

10. The Olympics!

Things I Learned Yesterday

1. Traveling right after dealing with the stomach flu is not fun.
2. Traveling with two children who act like racoons after dealing with the stomach flu is not fun either.
3. Being pushed around the Las Vegas McCarren Airport in a wheelchair IS fun.
4. Fainting at the ticket counter at the Las Vegas McCarren Airport is embarrassing.
5. Angels do not have wings. They do not wear halos or dress in all white. They wear over-sized button down tropical shirts and long, orange Lee Press-On Nails. Or wear BeDazzled baseball caps. Or carry their very quiet puppies in their purse. (Shhh! Don't tell.) Or have copious amounts of gum in their very large purses. Or have handlebar moustaches and know lots of silly songs. Or have very long legs for which to carry themselves to the food court to get you a 7-Up.
6. Having your MIL clean up your throw up is also embarassing, but it also makes her an angel.

Disconnectationessticism

I will be going underground for about a week and a half: No internet access. I would say "Oh, the horrors!" but I'm actually looking forward to it. See you on the flip side.

Today While Getting a Pedicure

If I knew how to speak Vietnamese, I would have been savvy to the following conversation between my nail technician and the nail technician in the abutting station:

My nail tech: Wowee! Look how cute this girl's feet are!

Other nail tech: Oh yes! Quite cute. You are so lucky to be scrubbing her callused heels right now.

My nail tech: You can say that again.

Other nail tech: You mind if I have a go?

(Apparently, the other nail tech is not only Vietnamese, but British.)

My nail tech: No way. Get your own.

Other nail tech: Come on. Let me paint just one of her darling toes.

My nail tech: Why don't you go get her a magazine. She's just sitting her smiling at me.

Other nail tech: Fair enough.

My nail tech: And not a trashy one. I can tell by her incessant smiling and nodding that she's a classy one.

Other nail tech: Only the best for our girl.

Ok, fine. This is the real conversation I think I would have overheard:

My nail tech: Oh no. Not her again.

Other nail tech: You've had her before?

My nail tech: Yah. She comes in once a year, twice a year tops. I mean, just look at these feet!

Other nail tech: Those are some big, fat feet. One of her parents has to be a sasquatch.

My nail tech: Tru dat.

Other nail tech: You'll be scrubbing those callused heels for about an hour, I'd say.

My nail teach: You want a go at it? Like halfway to give my hands some rest?

Other nail tech: No way. I'm not touching those things.

My nail tech: She better leave me a good tip.

Other nail tech: Not likely.

My nail tech: Why's that?

Other nail tech: Look at that stubble. She didn't even have the decency to shave her legs before she came in!

I really wish I could have spoken their language. Because as I was hobbling out the door with wet toes, I would have said over my shoulder in Vietnamese, "Actually, my Dad's a yeti."

5.8

And yes, I did feel the earthquake. I was in Best Buy. The rumbling started soft and low, then got stronger and everything on the shelves were rattling and shaking, some fell off. As it continued, I looked around for shelter and found none, only metal bars and swaying lights above way above my head. Then I looked at the guy next to me, with his goatee and diamond studded earrings and was like "I am NOT dying next to this guy," so I got the heck out of there.

And yes I felt the earthquake. I was at Best Buy when I started
feeling the rocking and rolling. It started out weak and then got
stronger and stronger. All the rattlings from the products on the
shelves made a pretty loud and unsettling noise. Instinctively I
looked around foe shelter but found none. Only big metal bars and huge
neon lights swaying above me. I looked at the guys next to me with
their greasey goatees and diamond studded earrings and thought "I'm
not dying next to these shmucks," and then I got the heck out of there.

It's not the dream that makes you weak, It's not the night that makes you sleep

So I had this dream last night (which fulfilled my usual requirements of taking place in a big place filled with a lot of people and involving a celebrity) and while I was having it, I totally wasn't aware it was a dream. I was at my ten year high reunion, which oddly enough, was taking place during a civil war reenactment on the lawn/parking lot of my old condo building in Iowa. I was sitting on a wall with a hand full of old guy friends. We were all in the same class for fourth, fifth and sixth grades together and remained friends throughout middle and high school. What bond could be stronger than seeing each other seriously wear M.C. Hammer pants? Your epidermis is showing! So we were reminiscing the time we made our old music teacher cry, when out of the building walks the lead singer of My Morning Jacket. He is bare chested, wearing a floofy flowered shower cap, a towel around his waist and is carrying a shower caddy with a large loofah sticking out of it. After successfully dodging a bunch of Yankees beating up a Confederate, he walks across the parking lot and one of the garage doors in the row of garages opens to reveal a steaming hot tub. He climbs into it and starts bathing himself, scrubbing under his arms and singing with bubbles rising up all around like he's in a cartoon. I see this and thinking this is actually happening, I say (in real life, out loud in my sleep) "Oh, this is blogging GOLD," and my own voice saying "Oh, this is blogging GOLD," wakes me up. And I will admit I was seriously disappointed this didn't happen in real life because I really wanted to blog about it. So I did anyway. I think I need a break from blogging. It's infiltrating my dreams.

Things I am Reminded Of That I Forget, then Remember Every Time I Come Home

-The majority of people in southern California are good looking. I cannot say the same about Pennsylvania. I am reminded of how "fat" I am whenever I step through the gate at John Wayne Airport. In PA, I am a waif. Score one for Pennsylvania.

-There are a hefty amount of Mormons in CA. This was made plain by the handful I saw just while waiting at the luggage turnstile. "But Annie, how can you tell someone is Mormon just by looking at them?" my non-LDS readers may ask. Because the urge to be grinding their own wheat, scrapbooking, reorganizing their 72 hour kits and birthing babies instead of waiting for their luggage emanates from their eyes like laser beams.

-Water pressure is a good thing. The water pressure back at our house in PA could be likened to Chinese water torture. Obviously, I never feel like I quite get all the conditioner out of my hair no matter how long I stand under that drip...drip...drip. At my parent's house, I feel like I'm getting blasted with a fire hose, so I am reminded how my hair looks/feels when it's actually clean.

-I really, really enjoy my brothers. None of us are big phone talkers so when we're all together, I remember that I like them a lot and that they are the funniest people I know.

-Weather is such a non-issue in CA. Like it's not something people even pay attention to or consider when planning their life. My life and what I do in PA is so much dictated by the weather.
"Hey, you want to go to the pool later this week?"
"Yah, if it's nice."
This exchange would never take place in O.C. It's just implied that it will be nice. I like the comfort that goes along with things that are implied.

-How very ungirly I was growing up. I was reminded of this after I discovered I left my very girly Venus gel oozing, squishy grip razor at home so I was rummaging through an old toiletry bag of mine when I across one of my old razors, which was a men's BIC black and silver razor. This illustrates the leaps and bounds I have grown in my femininity. For the most part, I feel like I've been the exact same person my entire life, and I like that. I like me, which you've no doubt gathered by now. But I like that I've grown more girly, but I'm still the same old ungirly me at the same time. It's just like when I decide I'm going to work on an attribute, like being more nice. I'm still me, just a little nicer. So shut up.

Here Yous Go

The key to a good spin/workout mix is having a variety of sounds and genres. I have a variety of genre of people in my class, so I try to match my music to them. I used to not have a lot of hiphop, because in Iowa my classes were 100% Caucasian, kinda earthly and hippy kids, which was cool with me. Plus, hip hop has gotten a lot better since I’ve moved from Iowa. Anyway, I had one class with a bunch of older white dudes, so I played a lot of classic rock, which they loved. And then I had another class with a lot of white college girls, so I played a lot of indie and alternative. After I moved to PA, I found that 1/4 of my class could be African-American at times. It just depended if they had to get their hair did that day or not. So I put in some hip hop and top 40. They are very appreciative of not being exposed to “White Girl Music” for an entire hour and my spin mixes are a lot better because of it. A lot of the times, half my class is men, the other half women so I try to pick pretty unisex songs or have a good balance between “girly” and “manly”. Though I try to please everyone, I always keep the integrity of putting on just good music in general, which is why I found myself in the pickle I found myself in. (See previous post.) I usually keep within the limits of alternative, classic rock, indie, top 40, electronic and hip hop. I don’t put in anything I wouldn’t normally listen or dance to, which basically rules out country, scary death metal and anything cheesy or stupid.

I also try to mix in familiar songs with the lesser known songs, just to keep people going. It’s always motivating when you can sing along with the song while you’re spinning, which people do all the time. Including me. But I always throw in some of my own stuff too, which can make some people come up to me afterwards and say “You remember that one song that went like “blahblahblah”? Who was that?” which is always nice when you can spread the love around. Also, every song must have a driving beat, whether it’s fast for a sprint or slow for a climb. A strong bass is imperative; it’s what keeps everyone going. Well, that and the fact that I'm yelling at the top of my lungs at them.

The point of this post is in response to several emails I received requesting good music to work out to. Here are a bunch that are fun that I pulled from some of my favorite spin mixes – all types of different generes.

-American Boy - Estelle with Kanye West
-Feeling Alright – Joe Cocker
-Daft Punk is Playing at My House – LCD Soundsystem
-The World Should Revolve Around Me – Little Jackie
-Great DJ – The Ting Tings
-Superstition – Stevie Wonder
-Gone Daddy Gone – Gnarls Barkely
-Pocket Full of Sunshine – Natasha Bedingfield
-Backfire at the Disco – The Wombats
-Renegade - Styx
-Such Great Heights – The Postal Service
-Lust for Life – Iggy Pop
-Funk Soul Brother – Fat Boy Slim
-Bom Bom Bom – Living Things
-Feedback – Janet Jackson
-Big Girl (You Are Beautiful) – MIKA
-Viva la Vida – Coldplay
-The Ballroom Blitz – Sweet
-Pressure Point – The Zutons
-Shake It - Metro
-Rockin’ In The Free World – Pearl Jam with Neil Young
-Ooh La La – Goldfrapp
-Catch My Disease – Ben Lee
-Burning – Whitest Boy Alive
-Oh What a Night – Four Seasons
-Wolf Like Me – TV on the Radio
-Stronger – Kanye West
-Crazy Train – Ozzy Osbourne
-Its Tricky – Run DMC
-Cheap and Cheerful – The Kills
-Walk Like An Egyptian – The Puppini Sisters
-Funky Bahia – Sergio Mendes
-Sabotage – Beastie Boys
-More Than A Feeling – Boston

Ok, I leave tomorrow morning. I have a million things I don’t want to do that I need to do before I leave...like pack. That would be an important one.

Camping, Part Three

This is not my leg in the picture but it looks a lot like it right now.

Camping, Part Two

Here is the entire camping clan. We look oh so outdoorsy.

And here is a picture of just the moms. Something we all have in common: we really, really like to pose. Especially Cheryl on the far right, who apparently is not camping, but at the Prom.

So there was lots of swimming going on, but not by me. This lake gave me the willies for some reason. Maybe the yellow/green/brown water? Or maybe the fear of having a fish swim up my bum?






There was lots of playing the in the sand.


And swinging on swings.

And taking first steps.

And just being cute in general.

After we exhausted the lake area and were getting creeped out by the goth kids who were sitting behind us trying to set us happy moms on fire with their eyeballs, we left to go the campsite.

This is my tent. I had lots of help setting it up. I couldn't have set it up by myself, that's fo shizzle.

Ruby enjoyed the massive amounts of sticks laying around: props for fulfilling her fantasy of becoming a real dog.

This is our Woman of Fire. Thanks to Heather and Cheryl, I actually got to eat my tin foil dinner. Not that there was ever a point I doubted I'd eat my tin foil dinner. Um, no. Not at all...

So yah, lots of eating.

And there was lot of just playing and fire fly catching and basically having a great time.

It was really, really fun.

Camping, Part One

I started off the day by teaching Spin. During my "fitness instructor banter" (which if you've never attended a group fitness class, it's just basically where the instructor talks really loud about themselves to no one in particular while throwing random health tips in here and there) I mentioned I was going camping (which is SO good for your health) but not staying overnight (because a bad night's sleep in NOT good for your health) and I got scoffed at, like "How can you call that camping when you're not staying over night, you sissy." Spinners in Pennsylvania are generally tough and aggressive protein bar eating, Teva wearing, Nalgene drinking, outdoor enthusiasts. So yah. I totally fit right in. Spfff. They never really get over the fact that this bottle-blonde mother-of-two from the O.C. drills them into the ground four times a week. I take great pleasure in this.

Then straight from Spin, I had to run a million and one errands. Wearing my sweaty tank, head band and spandex bike shorts with a padded crotch, I ventured into Fed Ex, UPS, the post office, Target, the grocery store, the hospital and the bank. I am so over being embarrassed about wearing my spandex bike shorts with a padded crotch in public that I often walk around these places where I'm running errands while singing "And Iiiiiiii-eeee-iiiii will always love my spandex bike shorts with a padded cro-ooooootch" to the tune of I Will Always Love You made famous by Whitney Houston circa 1992.

After driving 30 minutes to the park, and taking 60 minutes to find my buddies, I discovered that Ruby's swim suit never made it into my bag.

She ended up swimming in my tshirt (which thankfully was huge on her) and her underwear, which brought back sweet childhood memories of seeing a great deal of Mexicans swim in baggy tshirts at Corona Del Mar Beach. And I'm saying "Mexicans", not "Latinos" because I could tell they were Mexican by the Mexian flags they always brought with them and stuck in the sand next to their beach towels and boom boxes.

We're Alive and Kind of In One Piece

Our day of camping was really fun. A post is to come.

So I was worried about poking someone's eye out while setting up the tent. I guess I should have been more worried about my May falling down the basement stairs and hitting her face on the wooden railings the day before we actually went "camping". What is not shown here is a huge purple linear bruise on her forehead; her messy-camping-bangs are hiding it. Very sad.

No Assembly Required? Not Interested.

I'm a little nervous for tomorrow. I'm going to have to set up our tent without a help from a man. No husband, no Dad. This nervousness comes from the recent realization that I am not very good at putting things together. You see, Go is gone a lot. He especially seems to be gone whenever it's Trash Day or "Let's Replace the Hideous Swan-like Chandelier in the Kitchen With a Slightly Better Light Fixture Because That's All We Can Afford Right Now But It'll Be Better Than What We Had" Day. He was gone during "Even Though We Aren't Having Our Baby For Three More Months, I Must Have This Crib Assembled and Placed In the Nursery-to-be Right This Second" Day. And "Look at These Cool Scandinavian Designed Mini Table and Chairs That Just Arrived. It Has to Be Put Together This Very Instant So I Can See Its Clean Lines and Good Design in Person and So That Ruby Doesn't Have to Do Her Coloring on an Adult-Sized Table and Chairs." And "I Don't Know What I'll Put On This Bookshelf But It Must Be Put Together Immediately" Day. And then "I Hate The Way Our Room Is Arranged" Day. Oh, and there was "I Just Bought This Twin Bed Set For May Even Though She'll Be In Her Crib For Another Year, It Was On Sale, So I Must Somehow Remove It From the Top of Our Very Tall Vehicle and Lug the Mattress and the Box Springs Up the Stairs and Then Put It Together Because I Must See What It Will Look Like In Her Room Right Now" Day. I never want to wait around for him to actually be home (with the energy) to do it. And because I have not yet fully matured, I am still very much into instant gratification. And I like to think I can do whatever any man can do. This is very wrong. I may be able to drive a stick shift and quickly parrallel park like a man or down several burritos in one sitting like a man but I cannot build things like a man. So now we have a crib with front bars that will not go down, a very cool kids table and chairs with loose legs, a book shelf that resembles the Leaning Tower of Pisa, a couple of dents in our bedroom wall, a couple of scrapes in the stairway and a jiggley twin bed.

I also always get hurt while doing these things. Like banging my finger with a hammer, dropping something heavy on my toe, falling down the stairs while trying to lug something up it that is five times my weight and size. Then Go gets home and I'm all banged up and we have some crazy looking thing just sitting there, waiting to be put together by someone who actually knows what they're doing and every time he says "Why didn't you just wait for me?" Dude. Come on. How long have we been married? Over seven years now? You should know by this point that it is an impossiblity for me to sit and stare at something, laying in its box as just parts, nuts, bolts, screws, and some lousy instructions. I must assemble. I must. I don't have a choice but to assemble. So tomorrow, when I'm trying to put up my tent for the very first time, I will fearlessly forge ahead and cross my fingers that I do not poke anyone's eye out in the process.

Compose Photography Blog

I belong to a photography blog, a group of girls all interested in photography. Some are ultra professional, some just bought their SLRs a week ago. I love the variety found on the blog and am grateful to be a part of it. We receive assignments every week from our fearless leader, Betsy and I have learned a lot by contributing and seeing others' work.

My friend was saying to me the other day that it seemed like I hadn't been doing much photography lately. Maybe I've lessened up a bit but I have some things in the works and plan on doing a lot during my trip. I also have been contributing and completing the assignments every week to the Compose blog. Here are the pictures I've "turned in." Some of these have been on this blog before. I'm learning a lot from everyone's feed back, advice and examples.

Back Light - meaning light source behind the subject

Fourth of July - (not very patriotic but it rained a lot that day)

Circles

Nature - (said like Tracy Morgan a la Brian Fellow) "That camel is smiling at me!"

Crop

Emotion - can you guess what emotion I was going for? How about GLEE!

Black and White

Reflection