Christmas Present(s)

In keeping with the Christmas Carol theme, lets visit Christmas present, or in the case of a pretty decent Christmas yesterday, the Christmas Presents! :)

So yesterday turned into a very good Christmas indeed. It all started when Doug and I headed down on Christmas eve day to Denver. My grandma, being in the hospital and all, we decided to head to there first to see her on Christmas eve, and make sure that even though the Martinez clan had rallied around her already that day, that the last two Martinez/Milligans were still thinking of her. Doug, in an awesome gift of charity to my family, decided to cook dinner for everyone who would end up back at my parents after the hospital visits (turns out it was just my mom and dad and me and him..but regardless, a great present before the actual big Christmas day.

The first good gift of that night, my grandma was off her respirator and while still looking restless, confused and tired, MUCH better. It was good to be able to go in, see her alert, and ornery as ever. If there is one thing I have learned from this weekend is that my family, my grandparents in particular have this crazy stubborn nature that makes them fighters when something ails them. I am happy to be blessed with these good genes, and hope I fight the same over my next 50 years. As we left the hospital on Christmas eve, I had renewed hope that the best Christmas present that anyone could not wrap and put under the tree for me, would be unveiled on Christmas day, a grandma on a straight and narrow path to recovery.

Christmas day arrived quickly. We all conked out early on Christmas eve. I joined my parents in not really getting much sleep on Tuesday night, after visiting Grandma for the first time, and I think as long as I saw my grandma even a bit sick, even without the respirator on Christmas eve, it was hard to sleep without thinking of her. So Christmas day, I was a groggy but still not ready to be awakened Jess, walking downstairs to see my dad, up for coffee and the paper as he is every Christmas day WAY too early :) Still sleepy, I passed out on the couch for a bit more of a "cat nap."

Before I knew it, it was Christmas in full force. My dad having returned from visiting my Grandma again with my Grandpa, also back for the holiday festivities. My bro, sis in law and her mom, arriving to greet us. Then the world wind of presents began!

So for Christmas Present(s)...there are 3 in particular that will mark this Christmas as one of the most special, if not unique of Christmas pasts.

1) My grandma getting better. We visited her last night, after Christmas officially "ended" at the Martinez house, leaving a weary mom (thanks Mom for a great day!) we made the trek down to my grandma, not only finding her more alert, and more ornery, but in thankful spirits. She realizes the value of being able to be here and has promised to really take care of herself. The extra good news, she might even be discharged today or tomorrow from the hospital. A gift for me (selfishly) so that I know she is back at her house, resting, and better..before I hop on a plane to head back to our other life...in Cali next Monday. I am forever grateful that we are given the chance to be with her for longer. Last night, seeing her laughing, and being happy..made my Christmas completely. While I have always been accused of hoarding my gifts to the end, so that I have more than everyone to open, yesterday..the gift of my grandma being as well as she could, made me more excited, and overjoyed than anything else.

But..of course..there were GREAAAT presents I received that were actually UNDER the tree for me yesterday afternoon! :) The 2nd, involves a gift my new "sis" gave me. While simple, it was so touching, it can claim the best gift I received this year. You see, she knows I am a writer. I have often kicked around poetry and something I could create in the past, to show emotion. Often times when I am at my most frustrated or angry, verses come out. But honestly, while there have been emotions pent up in me, they haven't translated to a pen and verse in a LONG time. So Becky, in probably the best gesture ever, realized I needed a nudge, and created a poetry journal we can trade back and forth. A chance at creating "art" that only her and I can share. I am both excited and scared at this new prospect. But it was just the nudge I need, to get me back into the writing I have so dearly missed in years. It was a sweet gift I am not sure how I will EVER repay.

Lastly, the greatest "material" type gift came from my dear husband. I have been complaining for a few weeks now about wanting one of the new and latest ipods. This whining hit a higher level a few days ago, when my old school mini ipod I had, took a dump after charging. So low and behold as a great guy that he is went out and bought me a new ipod touch. The new ipods are skinnier, and actually are wifi compatible. I am so excited to use it, I am almost afraid to touch it! :) I only sincerely hope the gift waiting in California for him, he enjoys and is as happy with as I am with my touch.

So, a great Christmas all around. Some of what I wanted was delivered, others, great miracles and surprises also were welcomed. I am appreciative this Christmas present, of everything received! For now, I will enjoy one last Christmas gift..enjoying Colorado for a few more days before hitting the reality of life back somewhere else. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all!

Thoughts of Christmas Past....and the lady who made them so special

Of course, as a kid, I can remember seeing the made for TV movies, and reading a Christmas Carol. Remembering how Scrooge gets visited by 3 different Christmas ghosts, one from the past, one from the present, and one from the future. On a drive down to Denver today, I kept thinking  of one in particular, Christmas past.

You see, when I was young, Christmas past was about Christmas spent at my grandparents huge two story house on the west side of Denver. I absolutely loved this house as a kid. The house I grew up in was a ranch style/bungalow type house on the South Side of Denver. Suburbia. My grandparents house always meant something so different, another world both outside and inside the house. Across the street, "projects" (or lower rent apartments) adorned the street. It was always interesting to get out of the car on a visit over there, and see what crazy characters were hanging out in front of the projects. And then, there were the neighbors on my grandparents side of the street, each with their own weird idiosyncrasies that made the neighborhood unique.

But my grandparents house was this huge haven. A gigantic two story house where only my grandparents lived, but that was often adorned with us grandkids (only me and my bro, and on occasion our cousin from Northern Denver. The always kept it in pristine condition, my grandma always cleaning, making us wear little booties she hand crocheted, and my grandpa, always watering his lawn, or out mowing, the old fashion type way with a push mower. I relished going over to their house during the summers.

And Christmases, well they were no different. I loved Christmases at my grandparents. To this day, the traditions of Christmas as a kid still ring true and heavy in my heart. Christmas eve was spent putting up our Christmas lists by our fireplace. Only now do I realize a list on Christmas eve made it almost impossible to allow Santa time to buy us the gifts we really wanted. Christmas eve also meant church at the same parish that we were not only members of, but that I attended school at from K-8th grade. We always went to the Children's mass, and I fear that from the time I was young until almost high school, I only went to see who else I knew in the audience in the pews around me...all my friends from school.

But Christmas Day..meant getting up early, and heading over to my grandparents house. The smells of Christmas ham, mixed in with Mexican helpings wafting into our noses the minute the screen door and huge and heaving front doors were opened. My grandpa there to great us with some goofy comment and arms outstretched for a big hug. My grandma, apron on, in the kitchen manning all the burners she had available, making beans, homemade tortillas, checking on the ham in the oven. She was a superhero on Christmas days. I always wonder how she got it all ready and perfect every time.

After dinner, we opened gifts. Most of the gifts from mom and dad we might have gone thru that morning, before hitting my grandparent's house but sometimes we convinced mom and dad to just pack them in the car, so we had more to open at their house. While I can never recall my grandparents having a huge Christmas tree (they always had a smaller table top sized one where presents were stacked under until there was no room on the small table and they had to be placed on the floor). And after gifts, my grandma would take out of hiding a huge coffee can, always filled to the brim with pennies, dimes, nickels, spare change that her and my grandpa had accumulated over that past year. The intention, well to teach/make the grandkids play Black jack, or Poker. Even at a tender age of 7 or 8, I can recall learning how to play those games, with cheap ass penny anty type pots. We never won big, we never brought home the jar of change that we might have won, just gave it to grandma for the next time we'd play. The next family get together.  It is part of what made going over to their house that much more special. The anticipation of the next time.

My grandparents sold this house over the summer between my junior and senior year in high school. Coincidently the same summer that I was wired shut for 6 weeks after having jaw surgery to correct a horrible overbite I had as a kid. I remember hating that I couldn't really show emotion, couldn't scream, couldn't talk about how a little hole was being created when they sold that house...all I could do was cry. I knew deep in my heart the house was too big and they needed something smaller as they got older, but loosing the house, that safe haven, and more Christmases there to come...just tore me up inside.

The lady that made those Christmases of my past so possible, so important to me that I can still recall vivid memories over 25 years later, is spending Christmas apart from my family this year. The drive down to Denver today, was to visit her in a hospital room in ICU. After a pretty harsh bout with a cold, that turned into a bad cough earlier this morning she was not feeling good and the careful and awesome souls at the senior citizen center my grandparents go to rushed her off to the hospital. It was that great woman, I went today to visit. While Christmas will continue this year, my thoughts are with her. Her getting better, her waking up from the medicine haze they have her in, her being able to see me and allow me to give her a hug, is the Christmas gift I wish for that I can't find in any store for any price. Until then, I dream dreams of Christmases past and think good thoughts for a speedy and healthy recovery .

Adjusting to a life I once had...

So, it has been a few days Doug and I have been back in the 'hood. Cold ass Colorado. I guess I can't complain too much. I have friends in the Chicago area who are in a deep chill, Doug's family in Seattle is probably buried under massive snow, and my good friend and former roomie in the CT is probably feeling the chill as well. I guess mother nature wanted to remind all parts of the world it is OFFICIALLY winter. Even some of my buds in California are gripping about the unseasibly cold winter chill there, to include ice on the windshields (I still do have a snow/ice scraper in my car back in Cali if anyone needs it ;D)

Anyway, as is always the case when I hit Colorado it always means adjusting back to my life I am used to as a Coloradan. It's normally a switch I can make pretty easily, and this time is no different. Being able to veg in our house to watch movies (there is no cable here..so dang, no real TV), being able to look out my patio doors and see a back yard, being annoyed by the children in the house across from us (yesterday they were submerging fireworks into snowballs and lighting them up..FUN!) is all a part of what makes me love Colorado. Aside from Doug and I still trying to get use to the cold temps, life back here has been good. It always helps to get a chance for us to hit Colorado and reconnect. Like a little shot of hometown love.

While home, a few nights ago, we got the chance to go see the movie Milk. This movie has been out for a few weeks back in Cali, but I told Doug it was a must in my holiday movie viewing and convinced him to go see it. By far..one of the best movies we have seen all year. If Sean Penn does not win an Oscar, something is wrong. But what was interesting, was seeing a movie like that here. While I love my little cow-town, it is no lie that Colorado is a very conservative state. I notice that more since moving away. So to see a movie like Milk, about the first openly gay individual to hold public office, well lets just say I expected about 3 people in the movie theater in there with us. While the Fort Collins audiences surprised me, Doug and I both noted seeing a movie in California like Milk might have garnered a wider audience. It did make me sad that something that happened so long ago in the 70s, some of the themes, discussions, etc could have taken place recently with the passing of Prop 8. But alas, I will not get on my soapbox. For all who are looking for a good movie, I highly recommend it.

Coming home has also meant a trip up to Estes Park to see the Elks roaming in Rocky Mountain National Park. While we didn't get a chance to snowshoe today (but might this week as Doug reminded me we left old snowshoes here at the house, I always love going up there. So peaceful to see the snow wisk off the mountains. It was worth almost getting car sick with all the windy turns.

Lastly, coming home means catching up with old friends, new friends, and family. This trip since it is a bit longer is no different. I am hoping to have lunch/dinner with my good friend from college, my close friend from my first job after college (who never ceases to make laugh..you know who you are Paula :D) and coincidently also to catch up with LONNNNNNG lost friends if the weather cooperates. Through the power of social networking, in this last year I have caught up with old friend I had when I was in my goofy young years to my awkward tweens. People that I went to school with almost 20 years ago. Provided this goofy weather doesn't get any worse, I might make the trip down to say hello to them all.

Nothing like coming home again to remind you of the life you once had, be it when you were 11, or last year. Merry almost Christmas all!

The deep FREEZE?

Rumor has it a few days ago, in Colorado it was in the low single digits, even the negative degree temps if you figure in the wind chill. While I of course believe all my Colorado friends and family, not being here to witness it, it seems hard to fathom. However, as the saying goes in Colorado, give it a few minutes, hours, days and whammo, the weather can change like that!

Doug and I are back home in the cushy confines of our slow to heat up Colorado house in the northernlands. (I must say the term Southlands for S. Cali has so much better of a ring to it). We flew in today for the holidays and are staying until a few days after Christmas, so that it isn't a fly in fly out kind of visit. While the "getting here" part seemed rough this morning (Doug and I decided to pack a few hrs before, of course making me frantic on if I remembered things. And I had to leave both of our cutie meower furballs in California. Too much to try and bring home with work computers, and warm weather clothes. Leaving the cats (while it sounds funny) always seems traumatic for me. With my cutie being in ill health, everytime I leave her at the vet for boarding, I wonder how she will do. I hated leaving her knowing how much she would enjoy roaming the compound here in Windsor, but I definitely feel more comfortable leaving her in good hands at the Vets in California, even if it is going to cost me a huge bill), it is nice to be back in the confines of what was home for so many years. I will admit, getting into DIA felt strange tonight. Most times it has meant hopping off the plane with a huge grin, and a desire to kiss the Colorado ground. But tonight, maybe it was the cold, maybe it was the THRONGS of first time travelers that frustrated Doug and myself, but heading in felt different. I do feel more comfy though now that we are home. Now if we could only get the house heated up!

This week will bring catching up with old friends, and family, and our lives back here. It will mean braving the masses at the malls, as I search for the families gifts. It will mean watching It's a Wonderful Life for the umpteenth time, because it isn't Christmas in my book without that movie. It will mean freezing my ass off in the Colorado cold again, as December brings a festive holiday chill. As always, Doug made sure to bring his cameras, so that it can be documented, and thrown to the world to witness. There really is no place like home. And home for the holidays IS Colorado. Happy Holidays all!

Through the looking glass...

Back home in Colorado, we have a house that has the typical patio doors. They are glass sliding doors, so when the patio is shut or not, you can see outside to the backyard, to our neighbors white fence, to the open field. You can see that we are diagonal from Windsor High School, the track and football field visible, and the wall of trees separating the school from our divisions of homes, always visible.

As I pondered tonight, while driving home from work, the fact I am going to be back in our house with Doug, in Colorado in less than a week, I am drawn to thinking about those patio doors, and that "window" out to our Colorado world. I always find myself drawn to those doors, when we go home. Opening up the drapes ever so slightly, staring out of the windows for what feels like hours..just to watch the silent world go by. I am not sure if it is to look out at our past, nights out on the stone paved patio that Doug and I (ok, more Doug than me) built together our first Memorial Day weekend in the house, thinking about the nights spent on that patio, enjoying some of Doug's great burgers, or marinated steaks, fresh off the Grill as we ate while watching the sun go down, and sipping wine. I gaze out and think about the football games that during the summer we could hear without even having to open our doors or windows, the announcer loud enough he would invade our house as I walked to get a pop, or a glass of water. Since we've moved, when I go home to Colorado, I find myself gazing out of those doors, imaging a future out there. Maybe little kids playing out there someday, or a dog romping around in the grass. I listen to the absolute silence that seems to surround Windsor, a stark comparison to the difference here in California.

Interestingly enough, when we left Colorado, and moved here, I was really bummed I wouldn't have that same option. This great patio door area to loose myself out into gazing into my past and future. Our patio here, opens to the pool the complex shares, so not a place to get lost in your thoughts.

Oddly enough though, here, I have adapted a  new approach of looking thru the glass so to speak. Without fail, every morning, I wake up to cast aside part of the blinds of our bedroom windows to gaze out to the world California presents to me. I noticed I began doing this almost immediately when we moved here. Opening the blinds to peer out and see how close the mountains seemed. I am a bit OCD of somethings, and every morning, compulsion or not, hop up to if nothing more, check to make sure my car is in the carport. But inevitably just like at home, I find myself gazing out into the window at the outside world. Not so much looking back at the past, or trying to find the future, but peering out into my present. Remembering each day where I am at, as the palm trees stretch out to greet me. When, on a good day (like this morning) I see the most gorgeous sunrise reflect into our bedroom, forcing me to open the blinds of the window and gaze, stopping myself for a few minutes to take in the beauty. 

As I get myself ready to go back to Colorado for the holidays, I am eager to find my place again against those patio doors. The same doors our beloved cats Sienna and Joeycat routinely sat in front of to sun themselves even on the coldest of days. To loose myself once again, in that serene beauty of Colorado in the winter. For now, I will continue to gaze out our windows here in Cali, and focus on the present.

Holidays creeping up...FAST

It always seems like I am playing catchup on my blog. I have a 1000 brilliant thoughts I need to write down, but they don't translate into words after long days at work. So I am forcing myself to "buckle down" this morning and write a few things before I head off to work.

Seasons FINALLY changing out here. After what felt like years of 80s and 90s, the seasons finally appear to have changed to more of a wintery feel out here in Southern Cali. The short walk to the car in the mornings can produce visions of seeing my breath when I exhale (meaning it is DEFINITELY colder!). Doug and I are appreciative of this, as it just is hard to feel like getting into the holiday spirit when you can wear shorts and flip flops everywhere. However, as much as miss the white pristine snow, not sure I am ready to go back to the cold bitter winds of Colorado for the holidays. brrrr! 

The cold weather out here (and when I say cold, I mean like low 60s, anywhere else would seem warm, but low 60s in the Southlands means about 40 degrees back in Colorado), has helped my running mojo come back. :) After what seemed like entirely too many frustrated weeks of being sick, and slow, my running feels back up to snuff. A few weeks ago, I ran best 10K ever. So maybe I WAS born to run in cooler temps!

The very good news, we ARE going home for the holidays. 12 days to be precise. I would be underplaying it if I said I was excited. I am MORE than ready to head home, to our very much missed house, to bundle up and hunker down for a Colorado Christmas. I unfortunately have to work a few days while home (the application I help support, for our performance appraisals at work, is still very much active through the holidays with people trying to get in their stuff before the  holiday seasons end). So a full 12 days off would be too much to wish for. The good news is that at least I will be able to work from home.

Although even with the cooler temps, and the numerous houses that are lined from one side to the other with Christmas lights, it is still hard to get into the xmas spirit this year. In years past, I am pumped around this time to start Christmas shopping, venturing out to try and get the best things for my family and friends. But this year, I am not sure if it is the economy, the fact that we are far away from home, or what, but Christmas feels different. I am sure I might snap out of it when we get back to Colorado (and I can really shop a bit), but wish I could shake it now. I think being a bit more in the Christmas spirit might  help me thru the days until we take off back home. Right now, I  just feel like a Bah Humbug Scrooge. Maybe a bit of the Carpenter's Christmas Carols and a Disney Christmas (two albums that NEVER fail to put me in a holiday mood because, hey, who can resist alvin and the chipmunks singing carols?) will help me get my mind right!

You've Got 10 minutes..what do you take?

Most of the world knows of the devastating fires that have hit Southern California this past week. In the 10 months I have lived here, wildfires, multiple wildfires have not been something I have been able to get used to. Sure, in Colorado there were plenty of wildfires, especially in such a dry climate. But for some reason they always seemed very far away, up in the mountains, started by some careless smoker, or camper who doesn't know proper routine procedures for putting out their campfire. Living in an area that can have fire jump freeways, and pick out houses at random to burn has been a big lesson for me, and has left me in awe.

As I spent the weekend, and the last few days checking out fire coverage, I have been attracted to many human interest pieces. Stories of people who had to flee the infernos, only to come back to nothing. People who were told they had 10 minutes to grab what they could and then were forced to leave the place that they had called home for the last 10, 20, sometimes 30+ years, not knowing what they would see when they return.  This obviously has left me wondering...if it happened to us, in those 10 minutes, what would I grab?

A co-worker of mine was recently forced to do just this. His house was in the Porter Ranch area, where fires raged, and he could see the smoke from his backyard. When he was allowed to go back home, and thus, back to work, he told us of how you just grab odd stuff at random. Not really thinking to clearly, but knowing you have to grab what you can, even if it doesn't logically make sense. I remember him telling me he grabbed a sweater, and swim trunks. Neither a great combo with the other, but with your mind thinking a thousand different thoughts, you aren't sure what you reach for. It has left me wonder...in those 10 minutes, what would I grab? 

At first, I thought this answer was easy. Only a few key things I obviously need. The animals, our important papers, my hubby of course, and that's it. But as I went through an inventory of what to grab, I realized how many things hinge on having something else. For example, my little cutie furball, is the most high maintenance cat I know. She takes thyroid meds, and has fancy kidney formula type cat food for her failing kidneys. Could I flee, without wanting to bring some of this stuff (yes I would know there would be vets wherever we ended up..but would I want to risk not having this stuff.

And other stuff hit me. For example, we have a few computers..but my instinct was, on the list we would have to bring our laptop. A nice little macbook, easy to be portable. But it also left me wondering if I would want to grab Doug's extra hard-drives, where all our most precious memories of 7 years together are saved. I of course would want them too!

And then, there is the little things you wonder if you would want to bring. For example, I am blind as a bat without my contacts on, which I routinely have been taking out more at night to rest my eyes. I of COURSE would want to bring my contact stuff right.

The truth...a good portion of the stuff we would not want to live without..is actually back in our house in Colorado. When I asked Doug if/what he would bring his answer was nothing. I thought it was odd, until he reminded me the same thing "Jess, all the stuff I really would worry about is at home in Colorado." So truth...other than the animals...everything else would totally be replaceable here, and even if I could think of 300 other things I would want to throw in the car, I would only really miss our meow meows if I couldn't bring them. But it really does leave ya wondering...what would you bring, if you had 10 minutes to gather your life, before evacuating?

Mother Nature's Wrath (She's in a BAD mood this year!)

Apparently, Mother Nature has not been getting enough sleep, or is trying to give up caffeine and nicotine, or something, because her wrath has been crazy this year. I am guessing now that I am older, I have become much more aware of what destruction can become of mother nature having a bad day, but this year, it seems worse than some.

It all started in May, with the big tornado that hit Northern Colorado. That one hit close to home (LITERALLY) and left me feeling helpless 800 miles away to know how to feel. Our tiny little town of Windsor was hit hard, roofs thrown off the houses of people less than 5 miles away. I was left here at work wondering what we would see the next time we went home to Colorado, and being concerned on what damage we might have. Luckily, things with our house were ok, and rebuilding, and renewing in that great city we call home happened quickly.

In July (I think it was July), I had an experience with my first earthquake. By California standards it was small, but enough to jolt me out of a safe reality. Very little damage occurred but it frayed my nerves for a day. To feel the power of the earth shaking under your feet really helps to you put in perspective how much power mother nature has over our world.

Then, towards of the end of summer it was the hurricanes in Texas. Over the summer at my brother's wedding, I met some great gals, now friends, who all hailed from Texas, around the Houston area. To know that they were potentially in the path of a strong moving storm (I also have family in a cousin living out there), and with knowing parts of the areas that were hit (after having travelled there a lot at my first job in my 20s), watching the destruction, water rising, and reports on tv and the internet, I was mesmerized by the sheer damage and trauma waters could cause.

Now, here in the Fall/Winter months in the Southlands, it is fire season. While it has both annoyed me and angered me it is November and 90 degrees (personally I am still having issues with it being shorts weather in mid November. My mind can't get out of long sleeve, sweater and pants this time of year. But what scares me more, these temps means yet another smack down from mother nature in the form of fires. As I sit and type this, there are at least 5 if not more fires raging here in Southern California. One, has actually made its way to being about 15-20 miles from us, in an area at some point, Doug and I considered looking at rental houses in. 

Fire has always been a super paranoia of mine since I was a kid. While I knew it never could occur, when I made my bed as a kid, I always made sure to tuck in the sheets on the side closest to the heat register. Paranoid more than anything that those sheets would some how find their way into the register, heat up, and cause a fire in my bed. I am scared of lighting matches (yet entranced by the idea of candles and incense, though I rarely light either anymore with cats..too many possible "lighting tail on fire" possibilities.

So the idea of being near, or around places on fire makes me nervous. It also has captivated my attention these last few days as I read more info each day on the areas in evacuation patterns. I found myself checking the running websites today (even though I did not sign up for a race this weekend) to see if they would be cancelled due to poor air quality. And I watched today, getting out of the mall on our drive back home on the 210, as the smoke slowly circled around the mountains making them invisible, and how it danced around the sun, changing its hue around the time it set from a pale orange to a bright reddish pink.

So far, no one close to me, or friends of mine from work (that I know of) have been affected by any vengeance mother nature has hit us with this year (knock on wood). For now, I hold my hope that she lets up here in California, allowing the firefighters to come to the rescue of so many in evacuation zones, and pray that maybe she has unleashed all her wrath possible this year. An awesome early Christmas gift would be a safe, and relaxing winter break.

Playing Catch...

No, that is not a reference to football, or baseball..but a catch up of sorts. I have been remiss lately (AGAIN) in updating the blog, so this is going to be a hodge-podge catch up blog of sorts. Forgive me if below sounds jumbled.

Making History: So last blog left off with me being whisked away to Colorado again for our every 2-3 month visit. What made this one so much more important for Doug and I to go home (besides getting to be back in the comfort of our "crib") was to get to vote in Colorado. Yes..we voted in the state we "moved out" of. Let me 'splain. Doug and I haven't fully migrated ourselves to California. Still kinda acting the part of transplants to this fine state. There are a few things, important things we haven't migrated over yet for good reason. Colorado is still our permanent residence. As such, we got the chance to register, and go home to vote! Yeah!

I was excited to be a part of swinging my hometown state into the blue column for Barack. While I got stuck doing a lame provisional ballot (long story short, they tried and FAILED to deliver me a mail-in ballot, so I got screwed) we still got to vote, stood in line in fact at the Rec. Center in Windsor a block from our Colorado house. Doug of course rubbed it in that my vote really didn't "count" but anyway, it was chilly chill to be able to vote back home in Colorado. I must admit, as a kid who only knew Colorado, coming out here to California, which is more diverse in so many things...it opens my eyes to my little conservative cow-town. So it felt good to cast a vote for what I thought was the better option, in a conservative state (sorry to any conservative peeps I offend..not trying to spout who is better..just what I believed in.) Doug and I headed back to Cali the night of the election and got to hear McCain's concession speech (or part of it..funny I mention diverse, the shuttle driver in the shuttle we took to our parking at LAX had the radio on the Spanish station..so we deduced with McCain interspersed in English and Spanish that it was a concession speech). We then got to hear the Pres. Elect's acceptance speech in the car ride home from LAX. Felt so damn special to be heading down the freeway on a nice nice hearing Obama speak. That man is so eloquent, it was hard not to be moved!

On the downside of the election day chaos, something occurred here in California I wish I COULD have voted for here. Proposition 8 passed. Again, not to get on my soapbox, but for those reading back home in Colorado, this was the prop that would amend the law here in California to ban gay marriage. There was much mud slinging on this one in the adverts that went back and forth before the election, and I think much of it swayed the way people voted. Not to again criticize who voted which way, but to me, as someone who could have voted in Cali..I would've voted against it. A family is about the people, the love and the commitment they have to each other not if they are the same sex. Many here in the Southlands have taken to protesting and appeals have gone up on trying to repeal the proposition. We'll see how things pan out. 

Marvelous Night for a Moondance? To veer to something completely different, update on Doug and I exploring more of Cali nightlife. An email hit my box about a month and 1/2 ago letting me know that Van Morrison was going to play at the  Hollywood Bowl here in LA. (For those not familiar with the Bowl, it is an AWESOME amphitheater outdoors famous in how long it has been around, where many top name acts, orchestras, etc. routinely play. It is set against the gorgeous Hollywood Hills, where right before the sun goes down you can see the Hollywood sign on a clear night.) To those in Colorado, it reminds me much of Red Rocks, only LA style. Anyway, I immediately bought Doug and I tickets to go. Into the Mystic, Crazy Love and Brown Eyed Girl ('come on....I gots the big brown eyes!) are some of our favorite songs, and I was PUMPED we would get to see the legend in the flesh at the Bowl. We missed him at Red Rocks a few years back and I have kicked myself ever since.

So off we went this last Friday. The good: The bowl allows you to bring in food and drink. Yes..DRINK. Unlike Red Rocks which will confiscate in a major way, the Bowl allows you to bring in your own wine. And that we did. We always end up paying for the the next day..in our slower than average slackcing...but again, I digress.

The concert...eh? And here is where the somewhat disappointing comes in. Van Morrison plays an interesting  show. I have confirmed with a friend who saw him in Colorado, that..he isn't really a showman of sorts. He still is a great performer...but felt like some of the pizazz I expected was missing. He played Brown Eyed Girl..but my absolute FAV of Into the Mystic (One of "our songs") he didn't. And I felt miffed. ALSO...again, can I say...I am TIRED of cell phones invading our world. Almost everyone around us at some point had their iphones, flip phones, and blackberries out. To take foggy dark pics, to text each other (even if they were sitting right by each other) and to generally make me mad. The audience was a sea of backlit mobile devices and it made me really wonder what our world has come to. So the concert..left me kinda eh?

Lastly on our catchup:

You've lost that running feeling? Yes..I am afraid it is becoming true. In the last 3 weeks I have NOT ran, not headed to the gym, I haven't done a dang thing. :( I am very disheartened with myself. Part of it was resting my achy bones after our 1/2 marathon. But the other part was getting slammed over the head with an ugly ass sinus infection that threw me down for the count for over 2 weeks. It meant no running, it meant hardly anything good..I actually even worked from home for two days (something I RARELY do) to prohibit having to take time off..and to not infect others. Damn colds. 

So this week, yesterday in fact was the first real time since all of this for me to run. Headed out with some of the diehards that did the 1/2 with me and tried to do our typical 3 mile loop at the Rosebowl yesterday. A jog that towards the end of our training for the 1/2 seemed rudimentary...and I FAILED miserably. The lungs protested, my knees (rested for once!) protested..and my mental thoughts got so jumbled my MIND protested. Thus..I ended up walking. It left me wonder if I should just CHUCK the running for a new hobby of riding my bike. I doubt it will go that extreme (biking is Doug's passion not mine), but I gotta snap out of the weeds on this running stuff soon. I love the feeling I get being out there enough. Please somehow let me get my running groove back!

Ok kids..all caught up now (HOORAY). 

This halloweenie is heading home! :)

Well it is official. This time last year, on this very weekend, Doug and I were out here in Southern California looking at places to live. So it is appropriate on this weekend, that we are heading back home to Colorado for a little bit of Rocky Mountain love. I am anxious to get out of town for a few days, as both him and I have been busy bees at work, and a respite from the office for a few days will be nice. It's so funny to me how I can go weeks and months not missing Colorado, not thinking of our house, not worrying about stuff at home. And the minute I know we are heading back home for a visit, suddenly my heart wants to get there as soon as possible. This go around, we are checking on the house, and making sure it is all winterized (although rumors are it is in the 80s back home in Colorado, odd for it being November. Halloweens are always filled with the snow that drifts in right about the time that a trick or treater lands on your doorstep. Rarely can I remember going door to door as a kid without having a coat over that years creative costume. But regardless of temps it will be good to be in the old house again.

We are also going home to vote. Doug and I don't want to miss our opportunity to vote in this years election, it seeming so much more important this year than any other. And since we are both still registered in the old 'hood, it is as good an excuse as any to take some time off, stand in a line, and make our choices. I am energized this is another reason we are heading home. While there are a few ballot measures I would definitely vote against here in Cali if we were registered (definitely would vote no on prop 8), I am glad my vote for president is counting in my hometown. You can move the gal outta Colorado but ya can't move the Colorado out of her. 

Anyway looking forward to the time away. Hope all had a great halloweenie day, back in a few days. (throwing up the "gone fishin" sign.)

Tissue anyone?

When I was a kid, getting sick was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing in the sense that it meant mom would baby me, take care of me, make sure I had hot soup, hot tea, enough blankets to cover my shivering body. It meant she was there to drive me to the doctor if I needed medicine, or check up on me from time to time when I needed her help. It was a curse because I was a little kid who never wanted to miss school. NOt in the nerdy sense, but the social sense. I was always nervous that something major would go down and it would be the day I would be home with a snotty nose, or an upset tummy.

But getting sick as an adult SUCKS. For the last few years it has meant one thing, and one thing only for me, sinus pain and infections that I could totally do without. Over the years, as with everything else that appears to be falling apart on my over 20s body, my sinuses and allergies are in overdrive during different parts of the year. And hooray, now that it is October, my body believes it is time to whack me with my seasonal cold.

I have done really well over the last years not to get too sick. Have been able to handle getting through some rough and cold winters back home in Colorado without the germy bugs hitting my body. But move to the state where it is still in the 90s in October (yes...it is really still that hot. It is killing me. I am ready to pull out the long sleeves, not the capris!) I find myself sick. Stuffed up, sinuses a hurtin' and a sore throat that feels like someone ripped it raw. (great picture eh?). I had  hoped I could escape this pain, as Doug has been sick for a week now with the same symptoms. Unfortuneately, it hit me over the  head like a two by four this morning. I've got zicam, some nasal wash through me so far, and plan on taking some robotussin tonight after I get done writing this.

When did getting sick turn not fun. MOM..where are you with the soup?! 

Here's hoping I shake this stuff this week. We are heading home (home as in Colorado home) on Saturday, and I do NOT want to have to fly with this. On the plus side..getting sick in my cushy house at home doesn't sound THAT bad :)

The good, the bad (blisters) and the ugly.

Well, it has officially been two weeks since my half marathon. I've had time to reflect over it, think about it, analyze parts of it..and time to process that day and the aftermath. So it's about time to write about it!

Sunday October 12th started out extremely early for me. I agreed to meet a few of my co-workers who were also doing the race, at work at 6am. The race started at 7:30, and rather than drive myself down to Long Beach, I figured going down with others would make the race not only more interesting, but take a bit of the stress of me meeting up with the others alone. If nothing else, I at least had part of the group with me. The plan was, for all of us to convene down there about 6:30, meet by a group of palm trees, get some stretching in, and be set for the start of the race. Ah, best laid plans.....

The reality, we left work closer to 6:30. On the way down there, we were in constant contact with the rest of our group to see who was where, on what part of the 710 (freeway that gets you down to Long Beach). The closer we got, the more traffic we feared we would hit. But somehow, through my friend Spring's driving we made it through to Long Beach relatively unscathed.

However, realizing how late we were (we pulled into the parking lot we parked at about 7:15), we needed to "jog" to the start of the race. That meant running probably another 1.5 miles to the start (yes, we parked that far away...grrr.) I like to believe I actually ran 15 miles that day instead of 13.1 :) The good news, by the time we started, the crowd, thick and plentiful at the start of the race (we watched a wave go by while we were waiting in line at a port a potty), had thinned out by then. No running shoulder to shoulder with anyone.

Along the route, we met up with another part of our group, my friend Sandee. This was good news for me. Sandee was someone I knew I needed to pace with. In many of our training runs I realized that she ran a steady pace for each 3 miles we ran. Knowing that my "stop and go" approach would have left me angry and tired, stopping to walk and then running again, when I met up with her, it was easy running the rest of the way. Not easy in that we were going slow, but easy in that we were at a pace that I could handle for 13 miles. I slowly started to believe I could hack actually running this whole thing. Yes, it got harder, and more painful with each step, but hey...no pain no gain right.

The GOOD part of this accomplishment, no one can take away the sense of pride I have for completing it. Yes a group of us did run it, but with different times, most of us didn't know where another group member was along the course. And even running next to Sandee (and our  friend Andy who we met around mile 6), I still was very aware how much this race was me against myself. Around mile 10 I slowed down to walk. This is what I feared would happen much earlier in the course (at like mile 5) but I had found a way to push through. But by mile 10 a blister that had formed on the side of my right arch made itself much more known and was quite uncomfortable. So I reasoned that gave me cause to slow down and walk. After about 30 seconds my brain kicked in and went "wait..you have ran for 10  miles..and NOW..with less than a Rose Bowl loop (which is 3 miles) you want to walk! UM NO! I think the other thing that did it for me was looking to the crowd that was slowly lining the course now and seeing a sign that totally made me laugh and suck it up. It read "you signed up for this, so keep going you are almost there!" A silly yet needed reminder that I decided to put myself through this, so I had to decide to pull myself out of it by completing. Those last 3 miles were the hardest three I have ever ran in my life. But when I got the the .1 of my 13 miles, saw the finish line, had Eye of the Tiger blaring in my ears (yes..I loaded that song to finish to on my ipod shuffle), I realized I completed a year in the making goal! Time officially...2 hours 23 minutes. The time on the finish clock shows much later, but we started 13 minutes after the start of the official gun start so I know my time was better. Even through my pain, I was smiling the whole rest of the day.

The BAD part of the race however, the blisters. I had bought socks earlier that week I had tried out that had toe sections for each of my toes (like gloves or mittens for your feet basically). I had been developing blisters on my baby toes on my right foot for a few runs before and after googling research on blister remedies, found a pair of socks that a couple of sites recommended to tackle blisters. But in the long run, (hahah..great pun), my toes faired fine while my heels and arch areas were compromised. In total, I developed 5 blisters. The two on each arch areas of my foot the most severe (nice little liquid filled lovelies about 2 inches a piece. But again, the accomplishment of the day far outweighed the pain and healing it has taken to get my feet closer to normal. They are still a bit tender, but I am much better than I was last week.

The UGLY? Well running since has not been a barrel of fun :( Our group took the week after the race off, knowing that after enduring 13 miles in one day (on a Sunday no less..no days rest before work the next day) we knew we needed time to heal our aching muscles. But the reality, I have done two 3 mile runs since, both with ugly times and heinous results (my pace has disappeared and I am again back to running and stopping to walk and then running again. I am  hoping that choosing not to run a 5K this morning and getting myself back into the gym to supplement my running will do wonders to kick start me back into shape again. And believe it or not, pain and all, I WOULD like to do another half marathon (although at mile 13, when I saw the split between the full and 1/2 I realized I have NO desire to complete a full marathon. Running 13 more miles at that point would've officially broke me. For now, I am proud of my accomplishment, and look forward to brainstorming on a new goal to document down come resolution time.

On the cusp of achievement

I have never been one who has been good with follow through. I love to talk big about something I can do/will do, but when it comes right down to putting "my money where my mouth is" I have, in the past had a tendency to fail to really do it. A few years ago, I set about changing this.

Last January, I sat down, and with pen and paper, made resolutions like I always do. Promising myself I would tighten up finances, loose weight, eat healthier, these are staples that always end up on that list of resolutions. About the only thing that differs is the year affixed to the top of the page. The difference, is last year I DID follow through. I got healthier, began working out, and actually did fix up some of my finances.

So with a new year and a new environment, I promised myself yet a new goal for this year...complete a 1/2 marathon. 13.1 miles. An accomplishment that I thought was crazy 2 years ago. Something I was shooting for in all my crazy runs in the snow last year, but knew I was not at all ready for.

I sit, one day away from completing this goal. Tomorrow, while most of you reading this (if there really ARE any people reading this) are still sleeping, I will be in a car, on the way down to Long Beach California. My first (and hopefully, if all goes well, not last) half marathon in my sites. The International City Bank Long Beach Half Marathon. 

Getting to this point feels like quite the accomplishment in itself. When I first moved here to California, I wasn't sure of how I was going to accomplish this goal. Most of my running last year was done in the gym, and my road running came only when I did a race. Not much on training the legs to run consistently on asphalt, concrete and trails. I had heard that there were co-workers who ran as part of a group, at this place called the Rose bowl (which only sounded familiar cause I had maybe watched the Rose bowl game on TV), but didn't know how seriously they actually took running, let alone training for something that involved running almost 3 hours. Would they be up for trying one too?

Running is a unique sport. It can be both very individual, and a team sport. Granted, when you are out there, sweating, gasping for air, sometimes it feels like you are the only lonely soul going through that type of "pain". And as someone who did my runs last year alone, it does suck to have that feeling and know there isn't someone in front of you, or at your shoulder who you know pushing you along.

The cool thing is this, this accomplishment, something I really wanted to do for myself, couldn't have been achieved without my "team." A great set of co-workers who I definitely now consider friends, who have helped push me along the way. They made me realize my slight desire to run was actually more of a passion and hobby than I first realized. That with their help, humor and companionship these last few months during runs after work, early mornings at the park by work, and pushing myself on the weekends to get in miles, culminate with 13 miles tomorrow. 

One more goal to check off my list of things I FOLLOWED through on! :) Stay tuned for the play by play of the race in the next blog!

Season's Change?

On Saturday of this coming  weekend, it will be officially 10 months since this crazy Coloradan has been living the So Cal lifestyle. Hard to believe the days and time have seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. When we first started this "new life" out here I remembered thinking, if I can only get to October, I will feel better, I will be more at home. And the truth is, I do feel more settled these many months later.

However, it goes without saying that my mind, which is very trained to deal with the monotony of what I have been used to in the past, is having a hard time again, wrapping itself around another key difference here in California I haven't yet found comfort in, the lack of "true season change."

What do you mean by "true season change" Jess, you ask? Simple...it is freaking hot here, STILL. For all 32 of my previous years, October means cooler temps. It means finding those sweaters you had been hiding in the basement, cause you will need them soon. It means home owners throughout Colorado can soon put away their lawnmowers, because October brings frost, and an added bonus on Halloween every year, spooky Snow and howling wind.

But this year, for us, October means one thing, temps that I don't normally see on some of the hottest days back home in Colorado. Last week, with two weeks left to train for our 1/2 Marathon, we could not get in a few training runs. Why? The temps reached a balmy and uncomfortable 102, and 100 respectively on Monday and Tuesday of last week. YIPES! Remind me, hasn't the calendar been reading the beginning of fall for a few weeks now? Even last night, we waited until almost 7:15 before starting our run at night. Why? Well by then temps had dipped to 82. Cool when you consider when I wanted to start running, at around 5:30 it was still 94 degrees. CRIPES!

I am sure when Doug and I come home for the Christmas holidays, the smack of the cold, crisp Colorado air hitting our face, the possibility of a few inches of snow on the ground to welcome  us home, I will rejoice knowing I don't have to drive in it all winter. I won't be bitter, like in years past about how many times we have had to shovel our driveway by then. But for now, I miss 30 degree temps in the morning, and a cool down at night. I miss seeing those gorgeous aspen trees dance and change colors. I miss watching the seasons change.

For the love (?!?!?!) of running

I was always one of the tallest kid in my classes growing up. One of the only girls that routinely got stuck in the back row when class picture time came around because I towered over most of the girls and even some of the guys. So, it stands to reason that because I was tall, I had the build to do one thing well, run.

As I got a bit older, there was a day near and dear to my heart every year, field day. The day where I could show my stuff to everyone, and beat all the shorties with my long runner legs. I routinely came home with ribbons noting me as the winner.

When I got a bit older, my dad, to get more health conscious began running 5K races to push himself into competition, and keep his running up. After one such race I decided I got tired of just being on the sidelines and entered it too with my brother. That first race, a 1K (decidedly small by my running standards now) made me realize how much harder race and road running was, as I watched my brother beat me to the finish. Angry, but enthusiastic about running in a more competitive sense, my desire to continue running was sparked on that day.

In high school, I kept up my love of running by joining cross country my freshman year. I had always thought I was a good runner, I had the tall legs for it. Reality set in that year, when I realized the best runners on the team, the seniors didn't have size on their side, they had form, they had fluidity, they had the desire to want to succeed through training. Something I never had. I quit Cross Country after that year, but kept up with my running through track in the spring. Quicker sprints, but equally as challenging to do training runs, our coach (who was also my basketball coach) cruising by in her car to taunt us if we slacked.

I slacked off for many years after my high school days when it came to running. In college riding my bike or walking to class mattered more, and running, didn't hold a candle to my "adopted" hobby of hanging out with friends and partying. My love of a good run to clear my head was dropped, for so many years.

Last year, in an effort to slim down on many years of supersizing, I took up running again. Forcing myself to do race after race (when training consisted of doing gym time, and actual race running took place outside of a gym. I completed over 20 races last year. A proud accomplishment in my book.

So when we moved, I knew this love of running, this desire to succeed, had to move with me. I had to make time to enjoy and train for this sport. I had to force myself outside of my comfort zone, to befriend my office comrades, who like myself had been running, and running, although not sure for what.

Since May, we have been "training" for a 1/2 marathon that is now, a week and a few days away (YIPES). My legs reflect this training. More times this year, I have ran through knee pains, tight calf muscles, shin splints of epic proportions, blisters in odd places (I seem to have developed one lately on my baby toe, and one underneath another toenail)., and a shoulder injury (which of course was NOT related to running). I tend to vacillate between days I absolutely LOVE getting a run in, and days where I wish I could just go to McDonald's, go home and eat..and veg to do NOTHING. Do I really need to run?

The answer is yes, I do. I do it because deep down, I do love a good run. Regardless of the crazy grimace that might adorn my face (I always look like I am on the verge of tears, or ready to tear someone's head off when I run.) I chalk it up to intense concentration, and a bit of a reaction to slight pain), I run on. I run because for that brief 3 mile, 5 mile, 9 mile jog, I am at one with my music, with my surroundings. I can think about what ever I want to (which is mostly my paranoia having me think about my running form), come up with solutions to something that might be bugging me, or shrug away the intensity of a hard day, or a bad fight with family and friends, and live, just in that moment of that run....for the basic love of the run.

A tale of two Jess's (what is the plural of my name anyway?)

So realizing that it has been forever and a day since I posted anything on my blog, and being reminded time and time again by my dad (who reminded me again last week at Dinner when I got to see him here in Cali), that he reads this routinely, I figured it was about time for a post. A  probably super long catch up post seeing how it has been almost 2 month. Yipes. Where does time go when we get older? Guess that one is a whole 'nother post on it's own.

So to catch up. About a month and 1/2 ago..made my way back to Colorado (Doug trailed behind a few days later), on the company's dime! Hooray. Actually had work business to go back for. So, I got the chance to be old Jess again. Live my old life in our house, in my old office, with my co-workers I am still friends with, and catch up with friends I didn't get to see when we were home for my brother's wedding. And interestingly enough the trip back provided a bit more guidance and direction for me, in an interesting way.

I think up until being able to "go back again, and live my old life" I viewed Cali in a very peculiar way. Not angry, not bitterly, not even resentful of being here..just not settled. I was used to my routine, but every morning I woke up wondering what was happening back home (home meaning Colorado). Woke up wonder how our house was, what I felt like I was missing. It was unsettling. I could never put my finger on what caused it, or how to fix it, I just always felt kinda out of sorts. I think that is why I focused so much on running with my group here. Keep yourself busy, you won't think so much was my reasoning.

But going home this time, while it didn't provide a closure ('cause there really isn't anything to close), provided me a bit of clarification and direction I might not have had before the trip. And left me realizing coming back to California, and my life I have established here, at this point in time was the right avenue.

I often think my life is a tale of two Jess entities. There is the Jess in Colorado..on her home turf. A kid who doesn't have to think about where to go, or how to get to some place. Who is comfortable, almost complacent in life. Who is 100% sure (ok maybe 92% sure) of who she is. Part of it might have to do with having family there I can depend on, part of it might be that up until our move it was all I knew. But life is "simple." And for a few months into this crazy "California adventure" I always thought simple meant easier. How can I enjoy being here (as in here in Cali) if life in Colorado was easier!?!

But coming back this last trip from Colorado...my impression, thoughts, opinions completely changed. And what was weird..it wasn't a conscious switch. I didn't get off the plane that night and think, OK..EMBRACING California now. LOVE this place. It just kinda switched subconsciously. I realized, maybe by getting to live my old life, that that WAS actually going to still be there when I returned. That while the world doesn't cease to turn when I am not there, it is still a world I can be comfortable in. And with that why not ENJOY life here IN california?!

So life back here has changed the Jess entity living "the dream" here in Cali into a more settled gal. Maybe it is the fact that we get to move in a month (Doug and I are going to look into renting a house..which will definitely help on the comfortability level as LOCATION is everything. Maybe it is feeling more a part of my group in my office, and with people not even IT that  have become friends with through the power of a running shoe. All I know is that this challenge, this big change that I doubted I would be good at has been super positive for me. IN talking with my dad the other day over dinner, HE even noticed. He told me I had done a lot of growing up just in the few months I have been here and that a move was definitely good for me. While it meant having to miss me while we are living here...he realized this is what I needed to not only really appreciate my hometown, and my life in Colorado, but learn that no change is impossible. You just have to learn how to handle it, in your own way.

So while  California is not in our cards for a long term out here, yours truly feels more secure and settled here. I often wondered (last year) if someone told us after our "year here" was up..ok you could move back, would I jump? Would I tell Doug, "first chance you get, get us out of here?"

The good news, I can honestly say, without just saying it to throw hot air into the world, I don't think I would. I am in this until both Doug and I decide it is time to go. I am much happier, more settled...and ready to embrace the changes Cali has to offer me. And in the meantime, will balance the two Jess entities within me, realizing that one isn't cooler, or more important than the other.

Gotta love growing older..and learning more about yourself!

Shake, Rattle and Roll...

Earthquakes. The very word itself is a bit disturbing. Why or what would make the earth quake. Is it mother nature's way of dancing? What determines when, why or where one will hit? Is there any way you can truly be prepared for them? These were all questions running through my mind this past Tuesday. Because, you see, my California adventure would not truly be complete without an earthquake experience right?

Earthquakes. In Colorado we don't get earthquakes. Or at least not ones that a normal person, or small animal (like our cats) actually notice and feel. No, in Colorado we prefer our tornadoes, or a good blizzard. Growing up in Colorado, you are taught how to prepare for both of these. I know the what and hows of good safe driving in the Winter, and have heard what to do if an oncoming crazy lightening/rain shower or tornado hits near me in the middle of the summer (which has happened). 

But earthquakes. Hmph. Have NO experience. So this last Tuesday..I was taken completely off guard. Yes, before we moved Doug and I did talk about how California is more susceptible to earthquakes. But let's face it, can a couple refuse to move to a new state because they are afraid of a little ground shaking? It's just one more of the things in Cali you have to get used to here, that eventually, if you stick around long enough you might get to experience the ground rumbling.

That doesn't mean on Tuesday, when it happened I was prepared. That day I was sitting at my desk, in my office in Arcadia (close to Pasadena for those of you not familiar with Southern California) right before lunch. My co-worker/friend Sandee and myself were having a discussion (although it has since slipped my mind what it was about). Suddenly, it felt like a heard of buffaloes and elephants ran past the outer edge of my cubicle. Like about 800 poor souls running past to a meeting they were incredible late for. I felt myself pausing in the middle of whatever I was saying to Sandee, and cocking my eyes above my cubicle wall, trying to find the culprits. I mean after all, this WAS a work environment.

Then it honestly hit me. This wasn't a  herd of small baby elephants. I was feeling these vibrations underneath my feet. I was watching my little stuffed animals on my shelf fall to my desk. Holy crap..I was experiencing an earthquake!

Sandee told me later she watched my eyes get perpetually bigger. Like somehow watching the light switch go on in my brain, suddenly making me aware of what I was feeling, hearing. It's weird, considering we felt the vibrations for probably only about 5-10 minutes. A bunch of employees of my office probably weren't even there, since it was lunchtime. Yet for the next few hours that is all we all talked about. What we should have done to protect ourselves (running outside in  frenzy like I ALMOST did is definitely not the smart thing to do), to where the earthquake had hit (for the record it was centered in Chino Hills...a community about 10 minutes east of our condo here in Covina, and within 5 miles of Doug's Pomona plant). And, I will be fair....I was easily freaked out and a ball of nerves for about an hour after that.

Most true native Californians I work with said this quake wasn't too bad. First reports were that it was 5.8. They downgraded it to 5.4 a few hours later. For a kid from another state, those numbers seemed high. But everyone warned me anything in the 5's is still manageable. Nothing compared to the 6.7 that hit and is still talked about, the famous Northridge Quake.

The other group that noticed the difference though, our cats. Poor Sienna and Joey. Neither have had to weather (ha ha.good pun) any natural disasters other than watching the snow pile up in the backyard during the bad blizzards of '06 a few years back. So when the quake hit both who normally waste away their days sleeping in various rooms of our condo, were shaken. Doug came home early that day and said he couldn't find either of them for hours. Both  have taken turns hiding in the cabinets, laying at the very top of the cabinets, high above our fridge and have spent time staring off towards the east (Doug's theory for that is that they are still feeling aftershocks that us humans don't feel, and are looking to the east, (where Chino Hills, where the epicenter hit, sits in relation to our condo)

So, in all, chalk another truly California experience for the Milligans. In true California fashion after a bit of talking about it, relating our experiences about it things have gone back to normal. IN fact that night I did my typical Tuesday night run at the Rose bowl without really thinking about earlier in the day. I am hoping I don't have to experience another one of those while we are out here. But at least I can say...I felt the earth move..under my feet (btw...I heard that song playing over and over again in my head that day. Chalk that up to my mom playing WAY too much Carol King when I was growing up ;)

Will you be my "friend?"

For someone who works in IT, I often find myself completely behind the times when it comes to technology. I still am not an avid texter on my cell phone (definitely don't have the short cuts down so take to long to type a message). I don't have a blackberry, or a cool new insight from Sprint. And when it comes to fixing the computers if they are broken, or not working correctly I leave that to Doug, my in-home PC tech.

However since our move to Cali, I have stepped up to blogging, which I appreciate as an outlet for my rantings only my family and friends can appreciate. And..I have learned the power of the social networking outlets out there. Yes...after many years in its existence, I am an officially addicted Facebooker.

It's funny, up until last year I didn't even know (other than a few comments here and there from people) what facebook was. I didn't know how it worked, what was involved. Nada. I had heard gobs about myspace (even visited a few celebrity my space pages when bored), but never had thought of going on either to "post myself a profile."

However, after being out here in California, an area that was so foreign, I figured why not? My co-worker out in the UK has been talking about it for a while, joking around with me about it so one day, after work, I signed up. And the day of my addiction began.

How crazy is it now that I am up to around 80 people as friends (not at all bragging about that fact, actually shocked I KNOW that many people). Since joining I have found people I went to elementary school with, and haven't talked to in over 20 years. I have found old high school acquaintances I lost touch with since moving on to college and jobs, and I have added new friends that I met out here in California, or at my brother's wedding. People that never existed in my world 6 months ago, but I can now routinely see how their lives are going, even if I don't see them every day.

At first, I wondered if joining something like facebook feels like you are somehow spying on people. Are we allowed to view too much of a person we might have just met if they have pictures of a raging party they had, or cute shots of their kids? And am I proving myself a boring life if I am spending hours on end looking thru said pics, rather than just calling that person up to talk to them, or setting up time to see them.

The truth for me..yes and no. In one respect it does feel like I can get easily sucked in to keeping up with people I don't know but am curious about thru something like facebook. It makes it easy for me to know how they are, without putting in the effort. And hey, they chose to put stuff up there they want people to see. But it has also provided me an outlet to keep in touch with my close friends and family I was afraid I would loose touch with since our move. A good majority of my facebook friends still reside in Colorado. I guess in some weird way it provides me with a bridge to life back home. And it has helped me to grow early friendships that developed in the time since to flourish because I can keep touch with those I don't see every day. Plus, thru the power of numerous applications (as cheesy and lame as some may be), people get a side of me through goofy super pokes and pieces of flair, that they might not see through and email. It feels like I am a part of some fun social experiment.

Does facebook have it's drawbacks, you bet! I find myself drawn to picking up a computer the minute I get home from work, the gym, my runs, to see who might have "wrote on my wall" to say hi, or who might have sent me a flower for my green patch. And I am always excited to see if another person I know has popped online, and decided to friend me and say a quick hello and how are you. Somehow, cheesy as it sounds, it makes living in California, a place with TONS of people, but still foreign to me after 6 months,, a bit less lonely. But I can't let it replace wanting to go out and experience life out here. I am still doing the most of what I can to enjoy our California adventure outside of my facebook profile, and my computer.

I joke now that Facebook, seems uncool since so many people I know are now on it. My mom joined, after my brother got married, so she could make sure and view any and every picture someone from the wedding party might have posted online. My brother and new sis in law had their cat join..since Cotton happens to have an email (all that is required for "membership"). Even my sweet husband, who didn't' understand the allure of why I was online at night's writing on people's walls, has succumbed to the power that is Facebook and is kicking my butt on a game of scrabble. 

Maybe someday it will get old. So far I go through lulls, where I don't really care who said hi, or who might be trying to send me a invite for a new app. Where I don't change my status to something witty and then send off good kharma. I have had complete strangers try to friend me, in an attempt to boost up their friend numbers. Until the time comes though when I am no longer curious, and when I feel I have saw all that I need to and, when I am all "friended" out, don't be surprised if I throw a sheep your way to say hello.

The mystery that is...IKEA

A few years ago for Christmas, we seemed to get everything Ikea from Doug's mom. Ikea pot holders, cute little towels with hearts from his sister, and kitchen towels after Doug told his mom we needed more kitchen stuff for our kitchen back in our Colorado house. While I had heard of Ikea, up until moving to Southern California I had never actually been in one. I knew it was some huge, big box of a store, but having never experienced the trip to "mecca" I never had a clue of all you could find there. That all changed when we "became" Californians.

My first trip to Ikea occurred a few weeks after we had lived here together in January. Doug, having spent a few nights there off and on himself before I had moved here, had done a great job of furnishing a lot of our condo here in Cali with Ikea furnishings. All in all, not a bad idea. This way it left the majority of our good stuff in our house in Colorado to come back and use, and with Ikea being so inexpensive it was not a bad way to grab what needed without dropping a lot of dough. Doug even went a little "funky" grabbing a few oddly red shaped tables so we could use in our computer room.

Anyway, my first experience there sucked me into the dance. We have an Ikea about 15 minutes from our place, and upon pulling into the parking garage I knew it was on. The parking garage alone is worth commenting on; A massive amount of concrete with tons of tiny little parking spots, on that day all full as the eye could see. Why were so many people trekking to this place on a Sunday in JANUARY I thought. Guess there was nothing better to do as it rained outside. I tried to control my excitement as we got out of the car and walked to the big red entrance sign.

Once inside, my senses were overloaded. People coming to and fro all carrying these obnoxious yellow bags. Some had found the carts (which are not readily available when you first come in, you get them later). Immediately I got nervous and freaked out. Was I going to be able to handle my first Ikea experience, unscathed? Would I be fighting an older lady for the last bath mat?

Doug, by this time an old pro, steered me to the paper and pencil kiosk. For all who have never been to an Ikea, this is the important first stop. Everything in the massive Ikea store that is over a certain amount, or certain weight must be picked up in the "self serve furniture" aisles. You write down all that you want or need, and then are forced to grab it at the end, on your own, based on the descriptions and aisle listings. While it is extremely efficient, it is always nerve racking as you never know if you are truly grabbing the correct box.  But first..before you get to self serve...you wander. Wander to find all you need. Wander to search everything you can. Wander because there seem like endless possibilities of what you could buy.

So wander we did. I soon learned why Doug had made a list before we got there of all we needed. Walking through some of the aisles, people casually strolling like they had come to Ikea to "give them something to do" were blocking major thoroughfares. Normally I am a patient person when I shop, wanting to take my time and survey all I could purchase if I wanted to. But Ikea strikes something in me that I felt even that first time there, frustration. Frustration that people are taking forever ahead of you. Frustration for people who like you, are just trying to find the cheapest things so they wander and they search. People who will stop at nothing to beg, borrow or steal for the last light fixture, or cool yet extremely mass produced print of Audrey Hepburn. It makes you want to rush for what you need and get out..at least for me. Before your annoyance levels hit a critical stage.

About an hour and 1/2 and a couple hundred dollars later, we made it out of the big blue and yellow building. I've joked since then with Doug that Ikea is similar to 7-11s. In S. California if you can find an Ikea, you are never lost. Since that crazy first experience I can honestly count the times I have been back on one hand (which does comfort me some, especially since I first thought after my first experience that I could totally spend too much time in that place, weekly if given the chance. Thank God that didn't come true).  I am not sure I could handle having the Swedish Meatballs again.

Oh yea..that is something else I forgot to mention, the Ikea cafeteria. Every Ikea has one, for the hungry bargain shopper to feast on some quick assembly line like food in the midst of your shopping. On another occasion Doug and I found ourselves in the land of the store with the funny name, we made the mistake of going to said cafeteria. It seemed harmless enough, and both of us were starved. So rather than rush through our shopping experience to hit the Chipotle across the street, we decided to dine in the cafeteria. The delectable morsels that graced my plate...a helping of Swedish meatballs with this creamy brown sauce and mac and cheese. Carb and starch central. Immediately I new it was a mistake. While I am never one to turn down a good mac and cheese, Ikea has away of making theirs tasteless. Of course hungry, I gobbled it up. Next..the 1/2 order of Swedish Meatballs. I am a meatball fan. Be it Italian ones, or Swedish, I have often thought there isn't a way a person can go wrong with meat, a few bread crumbs all rolled together to form yummy nuggets that are meatballs. These....will go down as the ones my tummy still remembers. I have now banned the use of Swedish and Meatball in the same sentence, let alone together to describe a meal. Blech.

All in all..Ikea lives up to all I like and dislike about Cali sometimes. It provides you countless choices, all at reasonable prices. And the stuff is not half bad, as long as you realize it is temporary and might need to be replaced in a few years. However, for now, I think I will stick with one of the few California business to have captured my heart, and desires to go back again and again, the awesome....Trader Joe's!