Date Night

These are the kinds of things I subject myself to for my husband's schooling. This is a project for his camera and lighting class that we collaborated on.  

The other day I was folding laundry and this book popped into my mind. I LOVED this book. I remembered with perfect clarity my dad reading it to me when I was little in his uncanny, spot-on Grover voice.

I don't know why I thought of it, but I'm glad I did.

Newfound Weakness

Last week I was working in my little hole in the wall used bookstore, chatting it up with a regular customer when a young guy in a suit and tie moseyed in. I knew when he walked in without the slightest interest in looking around that he was looking to sell me something. For some reason, the salesey type people flock to this little bookstore. Food, trinkets, and in this case--coupons. As soon as my customer left he started chatting me up, as the salesies do. I was giving my typical responses. Hi. I'm fine, thanks. I'm poor, before you waste anymore of your time on me. But then he asked me the question that, for some reason, was what got me.

"Do you like baseball?"

Yes...yes, I do like baseball. In fact, I had just been thinking about how much I missed baseball games. I usually went to one or two in San Fran and my summer was feeling a little empty without them.

"Don't you just love being in a ballpark?"

Yes!! I do love being in the ballpark!

We proceeded to talk baseball and teams and hot dogs and finally, the Seattle Mariners. Just three hours way, their park is. Same distance from Fresno to SF. And according to this guy, the parks were comparable. The M's play right on the water too. I would have to look over the fact that they play for the American league, but still--baseball is baseball, right?

Suddenly, I was caught up in this little fantasy of a perfect little baseball-filled weekend, where we could enjoy the city and a great game, and it would be amazingly cheaper with these coupons!! The greatest idea. Ever.

It was the weirdest thing. Five minutes later, when this guy was gone and the haze subsided I realized, that idiot just suckered me out of $30 bucks worth of Mariners "2 for the price of 1" coupons. I attribute this to the aforementioned longing to see a game, and also the fact that I was going on about my 49th hour of work that week when Mr. Coupon caught up with me. I immediately felt sick and called McKay who was bewildered.
He said, "You never do things like that!"
"I know!," I said, equally bewildered.
"When are we going to be able to get to Seattle?," he asked.
"I...don't know!," I answered.

That's when I freaked out on him and told him I was tired when I bought them and I wasn't thinking straight and I like baseball and I'm sorry and it was dumb I know and he didn't have to rub it in and in a nutshell totally overreacted due to my own feelings of stupidity over the whole thing.

Now that the money is spent and I have the coupons in-hand I am determined to use them. Fantasy weekend or no. If I have to camp overnight in the parking lot of the stadium, so be it. I am getting my 30 dollars worth. And if you happen to be interested in catching a Mariners game this season and will be in the Seattle area, you let me know.

Ken and Ally's Wedding Weekend

My sister in law got married, and we were lucky enough to join in on the festivities. In Kauai, no less! It was a quick trip-- I had to get back for work and McKay for school, so we didn't have a whole lot of time, but we stayed long enough for me to enjoy some shave ice (which didn't compare to Matsimotos), a full rainbow at sunset, island music (including Three Plus' "Undercover Lover" in F-Land, Laura!), snorkeling, unexpected yet wonderfully warm rain showers, pineapple from a local farmers market and carmacs. Oh, and a lovely wedding. We had a great time.

While I was there I thought a lot about the summer I spent on Oahu 5 years back. The music and the smells and the stickiness and the lounging on lanais... all I had money to do that summer was sit on the beach, much like this summer, and it was still just as fabulous. I thought of the short walk from my practically condemned, being held together by cinder blocks shack to Hukilau beach--the shack I shared with 5 other girls. The Laie temple just around the corner. The bus rides to the north shore with the Ukulele player singing and playing his heart out in the back. Watching the filming of Blue Crush, walking back and forth in front of Surf N Sea hoping I'd see myself on the big screen. Dinners with Laura at pizza bob's, banana pancakes with coconut syrup, halpea ice cream on campus, shopping trips to Food land, hoping and praying that Laura's 1974 Buick dinosaur would get us there and back, despite the fact that 1st gear was the only one that worked.
These are some of my most favorite memories and I am SO glad that I took that opportunity. To quit my job, grab my camera, and just let life pass me by for a while.

Anyway--a few pictures from the wedding trip a couple of weeks ago.

My favorite flower girl, Maddie Anne...




















The Bride's tropical bouquet...










Notice the hawaiian garden hose behind us...

The Big 4!

Four years! Way to go us. We were talking the other day and decided that the longer you're married, the better it gets. I used to think that when I was no longer a "newlywed" marraige would get a little mundane and we would become boring. And perhaps from the outside that's the way it looks. This year for our anniversary we're getting an air conditioner and packing boxes for our move next Saturday, but that really is okay. I won't say that every anniversary would be okay that way, but this year, I'm fine with it.

I can honestly say that I love my husband more as I sit here in our partially packed apartment, dirt poor, neck deep in responsibility and reality than I did on our beautiful wedding day. The everydays have proven him to be the man I was waiting for. We're a good balance. He makes me laugh. I make him wear clean shirts. He calms me. I cheer him on. We have had our share of hardship, and while I would never want to go back there, I know I am better for it. I know we are better together for it.

Marriage is kind of like kayaking . Once you get past the breakers, the highs, the lows, and you're in smoother territory, you can look behind you and remember the good times fondly, smile at the ridiculous arguments, and be glad that the future looks a bit more predictable.

Many thanks...

to dearest Laura for her gift this week. I am currently sitting listening to the music of P&P and thinking it was MUCH needed. Listening to "Your Hands are Cold" and thinking about how much I like that part in this movie. And how this Darcy was THE Darcy, for me. Totally the way I imagined him.

I hosted a book club about a month ago where we discussed Pride and Prejudice. I've read this book a million times-- and it shows. The spine of my copy is broken, the cover was ripped off sometime in high school, it has been chewed on, water stained, food stained, sun stained, etc. But I can't get rid of it! It holds too many memories--parts I'd outlined, pages folded over of my favorite parts. I have to keep it forever.

Anyway, getting off track here. Hosting this book club I really came to realize that I am not the only one with such strong feelings about this story. It actually kind of amazed me how intense, and almost heated, the discussion got regarding the characters in this story. EVERYONE who has read Elizabeth Bennet KNOWS Elizabeth Bennet. She (or he) knows what she's like, how she moves, how she says things, what her relationship is with others...you do not mess with someone's ideals about Elizabeth Bennet, that is what I learned from that book club.

I do not exclude myself from this group of all-knowing Elizabeth Bennet fans. I love her because she is so incredibly real. I love that she is flawed and beautiful. Awkward and poised. Insecure and courageous. Honest and sarcastic. She was the first character in a book that I wanted as my friend. One of the greatest literary characters ever, in my humble opinion.

Kudos to you, Jane Austen. And kudos to Laura, for the lovely gift that has conjured my gratitude for good music and good books.

Good Grief

I read this book a while ago, and I have yet to find a new book to read that entertained me as much as this one did. This is Lolly Winston's first book, and I was really impressed. I laughed out loud reading it, which sounds a little morbid, since the book is about dealing with grief. it was very human and honest and totally enjoyable. I was just thinking about this book and thought I would put it out there as a suggestion to anyone looking for something good to read...

19 Days and Counting...

Ah, sweet escape.

Seriously??

Should I be alarmed?

I LOVE...

1. falling asleep in clean sheets.
2. Easter egg hunts.
3. my zany sisters.
4. listening to McKay play Gershwin.
5. a bookshelf full of new books to read.
6. hearing my whole family laugh at the same time.
7. a good hug.
8. Paul McCartney.
9. watching Sammy and Winston run wild and free in the field across from our apartment complex.
10. 711 hot chocolate.
11. waking up and having no place to be.
12. DISNEYLAND.
13. looking at pictures.
14. taking pictures.
15. (and miss) SF baseball games at PacBell park.
16. an entire box of See's chocolate especially for me.
17. Oregon trees.
18. having a husband who makes me laugh daily.
19. shoes without shoelaces.
20. laminating.
21. thick,warm socks.
22. Tsing Tao's chinese food that is above and beyond all other chinese food.
23. accents.
24. Paulito's big, beautiful eyes.
25. making a new friend.
26. surprises.
27. that Ikea is coming to Portland.
28. Trader Joe's rasberry strudel.
29. seashells.
30. that I got a chance to really know my grandparents.
31. changing my hair color.
32. phase 10 marathons.
33. baby anythings.
34. finding a perfect flower.
35. cute old people.
36. a good pair of sweats.
37. long talks.
38. autumn leaves.
39. waking up in the middle of the night and hearing the rain.
40. free stuff.
41. hearing my dad play the horn.
42. singing in the car.
43. watching house hunters and dreaming of a house of my own...
44. history.
45. a good movie.
46. a clean bathroom.
47. that I own all seasons Seinfeld.
48. my new body shop face wash.
49. our annual family picture in our new pajamas on Christmas Eve.
50. starry nights.

Happy Valentines Day...

So as I mentioned, I sort of gifted myself a trip to visit Leanne in Maui for Christmas. Of course, it was a joint gift to myself, from myself and my husband, but it was Leanne who found the can't-pass-it-up/such-a-great-deal plane ticket. These elements combined made it happen. And after I bought the ticket I totally freaked out and felt like an irresponsible jerk leaving poor McKay home alone while I went off to enjoy a week of rest and relaxation. But I got over that. And then, for some reason, I was convinced that I was going to die in a plane crash...or get bitten by a shark while snorkeling...because apparently if I don't have something rational to completely stress over, I'll settle for ridiculous hypotheticals.
The plane ride over totally sucked. I hate flying alone. And it's even worse when you're in the dead center of the plane, middle section, middle row, middle seat. It made for a nice little obstacle course getting to the bathroom. And SO embarrassing when you fall asleep and your head keeps lolling about. I finally turned to the people next to me and told them never to buy a ticket for the middle seat in a row. They laughed politely and shifted further away from me in their seats. Fine by me.
I then proceeded to eat an entire bag of goldfish crackers. Which is not all that hard to do, because those things aren't ver big. I didn't feel silly so much about eating the entire bag as I did about the ridiculous amount of goldfish cracker crumbs that ended up all over my shirt. The crumbs I didn't happen to notice until about 2 hours later. Nice.
Yadda yadda yadda, I arrived in Maui, Leanne and I had a glorious reunion...
The next day we went snorkeling which was absolutely fabulous. We were two of about 14 people on a boat that could fit about 150. It felt like a private charter. We inadvertantly made fun of some of the Canadians on board (Leanne and I have a tendancy to insult people without meaning to when we are together...this was one such occasion), so it was a little tricky trying to avoid them with such a small group. Creepy 1st mate Bob was also on board--Bob whose feet looked like Frodo Baggins', and who had a rather annoying staring problem. Bob was also a sidler. Leanne and I would be chatting and all of the sudden Bob would pop out of nowhere with his sociopathic little grin and say something strange like, "Would you ladies like a beeeeeeeeeer?" or, "Isn't it a beautiful daaaaaaaaay?" Hmm...yes, Bob. Please don't hurt me. Avoiding Bob and the Canadians was an adventure of its own.
We snorkeled right off the island of Molokini. So I swam, I saw fish and beautiful coral, and of course, kept an eye out for any sharks who might want to bite me and prove my fits of paranoia completely legitimate. There is always that possibility. But it didn't happen. All appendages in tact.
Saturday night Mom, Dad and Jennie arrived. We went to a mexican joint that had the best ginger ale I've ever had in my life. I am now on a ginger ale kick, and yet, nothing I've tried comes close to what I had at that there mexican joint. This was the same restaurant with the lady at the bar who was totally flirting with my oblivious dad while we waited for a table. One of the weirdest things I've ever experienced in my life. There is a sick, twisty feeling in one's stomach when one witnesses one's parent being offered drinks, buffalo wings, and conversation by a drunken woman in a slinky dress.
Anyhoo, good ginger ale.
We went to the beach where I got the worst sunburn of my life. I NEVER, neeehhhverrrr get sunburned, so this was weird. I was reading my book when I realized all of the sudden that my legs really really really hurt. I'm still recovering.
Jennie and I stayed up late one night with my camera trying to out-do each other on who could make the ugliest face. It was a close call. Always a fun activity that never seems to get old in the Webster household.
We went whale watching on my brother-in-law's boat and saw some amazing things. Little baby humpback whales breaching like their mamas and showing off for the boats. It was so amazing.
So five days later I got back on a plane, back to the middle row in the middle of the plane, but this time I had the whole row to myself. The flight was half empty, so it was a much more pleasant experience.
In a nutshell I'm so glad that I went and it was a very fun trip. And I have the pictures to prove it.

Maui Madness

Alright, so, my real Christmas present this year was a trip to see my sister Leanne in Maui. It was amazing. We partied. I went on my very first ever snorkeling trip, and I must say, I was pretty darn...okay at it.
I keep trying to write interesting things, but is someone else's vacation all that interesting to others?? I don't know. Plus, I'm really hungry and I have haagen dazs in the freezer calling my name. Perhaps I will make this a TO BE CONTINUED post. Yes....

A Few of my favorites...

A long day of shopping...


An afternoon on Captn' Carlos' boat watching the whales do their thing...


A super cute sea turtle...

Sometimes it's hard to believe that a place like this exists...

Dogs in Snow

The cutest.

Guess what I got for Christmas?!?

Not this pony, if that's what you were thinking. Although, Strawberry and I shared a deep connection at the christmas tree farm.

Allstar

This weekend McKay and I attended our very first NBA basketball game. We watched the Trailblazers barely hang on to a win against the Hornets, and best of all, I got myself a huge cup of frozen yogurt that was dee-licious. We had a great time.

At half time we were sitting there, enjoying the atmosphere and said frozen yogurt, when I had this flash of a memory long forgotten.

In grade school I tried just about everything. Softball (I ended up the equipment manager when coach finally tried to break to me gently that I stunk), drama (I don't mean to brag, but this was my one claim to fame. I was one of the principle's in Peter Pan. John, to be exact). student council (I lost the grounds commissioner race to the smelly kid), volleyball (I just wanted to get some of those neato knee pads), and of course--basketball. I was about 4'9" and maybe 80 pounds, needless to say I was not much of an athlete. Plus, I'm a wuss. Anytime I saw an object headed in my direction, it wasn't my first impulse to run up and intercept that object moving at high velocity. Unlike many of the other girls on my teams, I frequently tried to get out of the way.

Now, anyone who attended a Clovis Unified school knows that when it comes to sports, there's no messing around. Athletics are the bread and butter of that district, and there will be no losers. Which is why the team system they came up with was quite ingenious. You see, there were three teams. A, B, and C Teams.

The A-team was the cream of the crop. The girls who at 12 years of age were already 6 feet tall and in contract negotiations with the WNBA. The A-team girls were a class all to themselves.
"That's Ashley...she's on the A-team." A hush would fall over the crowd. It was serious business.

Now the B-teamers, they were pretty darn good, too. Not quite at the caliber of the A-teamers, but still nothing to scoff at. They could hold their own. And best of all, they got the real deal jerseys just like the A-team. A REAL team.

And then there was C-team. Now, I can't say anything disparaging about the C-teamers because I was one of them. We were the riff raff. We knew we sucked, we knew to be branded with the C-team name meant social suicide, but gosh darnit, we were gonna play some basketball. And so what if we didn't have jerseys. We had...uh...well, they gave us a ball! And court time! Right after the A-team and B-teams had played all of their games, we had the prime courts! Yessiree. And despite the fact that that usually meant our games started somewhere around sundown, when the school was practically deserted and our cracker-jack coach was somewhere by the snack bar drinking soda and taking a cat nap on the bleachers, the C-team was too legit to quit. We stayed until every last game was played. And usually lost.

While I respected my C-team sisters, I found myself growing restless after my fourth and fifth grade years. I decided that sixth grade was going to be different. Oh yes. I had one last year to get it right, and I wasn't going to screw it up. Or so I thought.

Turns out, the extra practices, the "perfected" jump shot added up to a whole lot of nothing, and for the third and final year, I ended up back on the C-team. This was most discouraging. Disillusionment set in, and I became the most jaded and bitter C-teamer Mickey Cox elementary had ever seen. Maybe.
Game after game I played half-heartedly, as I dreamed of what could have been. The blacktop is always blacker on someone else's blacktop. That's for sure.
As the season drew to a close, and despite my pain, I decided for the final game of my elementary school basketball career, I would give it all I had. I would try my best, and I was sure that there would be some life's lesson I would learn from all of this. Perhaps I would make the winning basket. I would prove to be an asset to my teammates. The A-team and B-team coaches would look on and scratch their heads, wondering how they could have let me slip through their fingers that season. This was going to be my game.

I waited and waited for our team captain to let me in the game. It felt like an eternity, until I finally had my chance. My moment to shine had finally arrived. I took my place and played my postition like nobody's business. Amazing defense, smart offense. I was on fire. I recall like it was yesterday what happened next. My opponent, who I should have been defending but by some miraculous phenomenon had gotten past me, was passed the ball and was heading for the net on the opposite side. I scrambled after her, with the whirlwind of frantic little girls trailing behind us. We got to the net, she took her shot and, I swear, I saw it go in. I thought to myself, "Don't let it get you down, Manda! Get back to your position! Be ready for that next opportunity!!" I made a mad dash down the court to the opposite side. When I made it back to my position on the court, I turned quickly to find the ball. As I turned I felt instant, searing pain. I had twisted my ankle. Really, really twisted it. Paaaiiiin. And just as I was coming to the realization of this pain, I came to another realization. Everybody else was still on the opposite side of the court. The ball was still in play and I was all by myself, on the other side of the court. I had twisted my ankle all on my own. I couldn't even blame it on the chaos of the sea of girls around me... seeing as how I was far, far away from the action. There was no escaping this humiliation.
I hobbled off the court in shame, looking up to find a perplexed look on my coach's face. "What were you doing?," he asked in genuine confusion. I don't know. I just don't know.
Needless to say, I did learn a great life's lesson that day. Sports are definitely not for me.

As I sat with McKay at the Trailblazers game on Friday night and relayed this story to him, we both had to shake our heads. What is the deal with childhood? I guess it's a good thing memories like these usually only come back when you're old enough to be able to laugh at yourself.

I have a problem.

I thought moving to Oregon would pretty much squash any possibility of the continuance of my Disneyland addiction, but I was wrong. We went AGAIN. But to be fair, I must say that this trip was planned with McKay's family for quite some time, and was more or less a family reunion, so really, how could we not go? But the worst of it is I'm already planning our next trip in March.
Some people drink to escape their reality...I go to Disneyland. I work two jobs. I live in a new place. I deserve a bi-annualish trip to Disneyland, right? Right.
I'm just grateful for a husband who indulges me and loves it as much as I do.

Angry Voltage

Who knew that electricity was so hostile?

Just to add to the Oprah theme of my last entry...