Category Archives: Personal

The Best Birthday Ever (I Have the Best Husband in the World)

Posted on by
Reply

35 will go down in history as the best birthday ever! In the weeks leading up to the big day, I was feeling blue and it was slowly dawning on me that I was actually 35 and no longer 25; that somehow time had occurred and I was officially in my middle thirties. I wasn’t sure I liked that. You’re as old as you feel, or so they say. After a rather nasty fall down the stairs – which took me an entire month to recuperate from – I wasn’t so sure I was feeling all that young.

I woke up and the sweetest husband in the world brought me breakfast in bed, even through we’re totally out of food prior to a full refrigerator cleanse for repair. He then brought me presents! He got me a negative scanner and a sound machine. Yay. He loves me. I was feeling pretty good at this point. I figured I’d spend the day kicking back, trying to get rid of a headache I’d had since the day before. I went down-stairs for coffee and on the way back to my office, happened to glance into the dining room and there it was: A 1960′s British-import 3-wheeled bicycle – although 3 wheels officially makes it a tricycle. I’d seen it on Craigslist and was pining for it. I’d been searching for one for a long time and had determined that even though I could afford it, I should probably spend what little money I have on photo equipment. I’d emailed the owner and told him I’d be coming for it, but was sad I had to change my mind. Sneaky person he is, AJB emailed the owner, told him not to sell it to me and that he was getting it for me as a surprise. A lo, there it was in my own dining room with a big bow on it.

Now, I think the last time I was this happy with a present had to be the last time I got a bike – when I was 5 years old, although since then I’ve gotten some great presents. My five year old bike, that beautiful banana seat number with flowers and tassels – the one my Dad sold without my permission at a yard sale when I was 11. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. I couldn’t believe that my husband had done that, what an amazing and clever thing! I rode my new baby up and down the block a few times. She’s over 45 years old, but with some TLC she’ll be good as new. Structurally, she’s sound.

Later that afternoon, AJB, JCS, and I had lunch at a darling new cafe called “Novel Cafe” on Colorado Blvd. – they serve fresh, organic food and were playing 80′s alternative music. I will be back. Afterward, we rounded the corner and dropped my trike at Pasadena Cyclery for some new tires and breaks. I’ll clean her up this weekend and take some photos to share. She’ll eventually need a paint job, but for now, she’s wonderful and I love her so very much.

The day would only get better from there. AJB had already told me we were dining at one of my favorite places in Los Angeles, the legendary Magic Castle. What he didn’t tell me was that 3 of my favorite people would also be there! Surprise! Andy, Jason, and Dave. Yay! We ate, we drank, we talked, we laughed, we sang. I drank wine like it was going out of fashion and got a bit tipsy. Good tipsy, you know the kind where you love everyone? I hope I wasn’t obnoxious, but AJB assures me I wasn’t too bad. When we left the Magic Castle, I exclaimed that I wanted to go dancing so AJB drove us to Perversion, although in my drunken haze, I wasn’t quite sure where we’d ended up.

There was just about an hour or so left in the evening, but I danced like it was going out of fashion. Now, back in the day, my friends and I used to go to Perversion every week. The place would be packed. Sadly, the club is a shell of it’s former self. Hardly anyone was there and the music was fairly terrible, even though I got the DJ to play Bauhaus and Siouxsie for me. The people that were there all looked pretty tired. While I realize the glory days of the Goth scene are far behind me now, it’s sad to see what it’s become. No one dresses up and the dancing has become an even mopier version of the beautiful moves we used to do in my day. Kids just sort of slowly flail around, as if they’re about to pass out – but not in a cool way. I didn’t let it get me down. I had a great time dancing by myself, dancing with my husband. I was happy to know that I wasn’t the oldest person there. I wonder if I’d be interested in going back. I mean, what I always loved about the clubs wasn’t the people anyway, it was always about the dancing and the music. I do miss it. I suppose I shouldn’t care how old I am. When I was 21, I used to look at the folks in their 30′s and think how sad it was that they were still clubbing at their age. I suppose now that the shoe is on the other foot, I understand why they were there.

I passed out cold on the ride home. AJB got me into bed and I awoke the next morning with not the worst hangover ever, but didn’t feel great. I’m also a bit sore from dancing so hard. Yikes. I guess I’m out of practice.

Every happy moment on my 35th birthday was due to my lovely and wonderful husband for making it happen. I couldn’t have asked for a better celebration, for better gifts, or better friends. It was sublime. It’s one for the record!

Here we go again

Posted on by
Reply

When I was little I used to get excited when my birthday month rolled around for several reasons. One: Its my birthday coming up soon! Two: March is always a beautiful month and I love the early days of Spring so very much.

When my Dad died, it hit me like a ton of bricks. It was, and still is, the worst day of my life. This March 4th, instead of gloomily looking at old photos, I was laid up after a rather nasty fall down the stairs. A fall that produced no broken bones, but various heinous bruises that would make you shirk. They make me shirk. I couldn’t walk around for nearly a week, had to stay in bed, and watched a lot of movies. I guess I was too tired to reminisce.

March 4th comes and goes as it has for a million years. It’s only been the last 3 that I’ve had a hard time recovering and getting into “birthday/Spring is here” mode. I find that I wake up in the mornings feeling down and unmotivated. This year’s set-back, falling down the stairs, has added to a general malaise that seems to get harder and harder to shake. Or maybe it’s because I’m in the belly of the beast and it’s hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

This year, in particular, I will be 35; which means I’ll be 40 in 5 years. A recent doctor’s appointment added even more brain teasing fun. She said, without pushing, that if I wanted to have a baby, I need to do it now. I grumbled and she replied that while it’s not impossible to get pregnant in your late 30′s, it is harder. I can imagine. The difficulty of babies in general, has been why I’ve avoided it so long. It’s not that I wouldn’t want to create a kick-ass human being who looks like me and AJB, it’s that it’s going to be really, really hard. It also means giving myself up for someone else.

I’ve met people who say that it’s not totally true that you have to give yourself up for your kids; that you can still concentrate on your work and yourself, you just have to find a new balance. My worry is, I won’t be able to do both; I’ll end up spending all my time on kids, forgo my career, become fat, and end up bitter.

Do I feel like something is missing from my life? Yes. It has more to do with my career and art than kids. I feel like I should be doing more, have done more. I feel bad about not really knowing if I want kids because I love kids. I love my nephew, my little cousins and every baby I see in the market. The missing pieces of my life stem from not really doing what I set out to do or not being able to figure things out the way other people do. It stems from the month of March, the big 3-5, my Dad’s death, and realizing I should have had kids when I was 25. Except, I just wasn’t ready. At 25 I was floundering even worse than I am now. No car, no career, a stupid boyfriend I’d never want to breed with, I was living in a junky apartment with 3 other people…Then again, had I just bit the bullet back then, I’d have a ten year old who could help me carry equipment on shoots. Fuck. Of course, my life would be very different now. I might never have succumbed to pressure and entered cosmetology school which means I never would have met AJB.

As usual, I’ll bounce back. I’ll pick myself up and carry on. All those other things? They won’t go away, but eventually they’ll be behind me. Having a baby means taking a leap of faith that everything will be fine and even if it’s not, I’ll deal with it. I hate not knowing. I want to make sure I’m getting the most out of life. You know, more bang for my buck. Am I? Not this week.

Everything will be fine

Posted on by
2

I realize what one of my weakest points is: I over-think things. Does everyone do that or do the really successful people in life just go, “Yeah, I’m gonna jump of that bridge” and not worry about what happens when they hit the bottom? Do they assume they won’t hit the bottom? Are really successful people blissfully ignorant when it comes to failure? I’d really like to know.

I suppose the key to success has everything to do with luck, circumstance, and talent. Just like meeting the person you marry, job success has similar right place, right time aspects to it. If {insert actor’s name here} had been sick on the day of their big audition, they wouldn’t have gotten the commercial job which lead to them being discovered which lead to the big movie which lead to the Academy Award. Someone else would have gotten the commercial and might not have been discovered for the big movie which lead to the Academy Award.

Success isn’t just about talent. I look around and I see a jilion other photographers who haven’t made names for themselves but are very good at what they do. I’m pretty good at what I do. No star is born over night. Even in the movie “A Star is Born” Judy Garland had been singing in night clubs for years before she hit it big. She just happened to meet and fall in love with the biggest star in the world who helped her get a camera test. Her talent took it from there. She had the opportunity.

So, without meeting and falling in love with the biggest star in the world, how do you make it big? OK, let’s forget about making it big. How do you make a living? If persistence was all it took, just about everyone I know would be photographing for National Geographic or Vanity Fair. If all it took was talent, every kid at Art Center would be selling their work like hot cakes. Therefore, the likely conclusion is that you must also have opportunity. Yes, we’ve determined that already. So where do you get it? Where do the opportunities live and how do you get your hands on them?

Truth is, you can have all the opportunities in the world, but if people don’t like you, you’re not going anywhere. Conclusion? Success is: Opportunity, talent, personality. I have two out of three. Now to find the opportunities, which seem the most illusive.

I’ve been thinking about personality and how it effects my work. Who am I to my clients and potential clients? While I realize I won’t hit it off with everyone, I also know that I must always be myself. I can do nothing more than that. I see a lot of photographers being really positive and upbeat about the current state of the industry. They also over-emphasize their skills; which I’m not good at. Aside from the insider comments on message boards, most photographers go about their day as if nothing is wrong. Truth is, there is a lot wrong and I worry about it every day. I worry that dumb kids with $50 cameras are making more money than me. I worry that I come off as strange or dorky, but not professional or comforting. I worry that I don’t really know what I’m doing and that by the time I figure it out, I’ll be ready for retirement. I’m worried I don’t have what it takes and that some days, I’m really not even that motivated. I worry that all of these character traits are fine if you’re Andy Warhol or Crispin Glover. I am neither and somehow fall into a category of in-between.

So what if I were to be genuinely honest about how things really are in my business? What if I were to send out my newsletter every month and talk about how it all sucks, that I’m not feeling positive, and that I worry I’m a failure? Would that turn people off? I’m pretty sure if would. Thus, I stay perky. Even when I feel bad, I have to remain confident and as Dry Idea as deodorant: Never let ‘em see you sweat.

Everything will be fine.

UPDATE: About 2 seconds after I posted this, an interesting opportunity came my way. I’ll post more about it when it’s more solidified.

An article I wrote applying for a writing job

Posted on by
Reply

I love writing almost as much as I love photography. If I can find a way to do both in my life, I will be truly happy. Here is a short article I submitted applying for a writing job for a multi-topic website. The site is along the lines of About.com, but you get paid for submissions. I’m not sure it’s my best work, but we’ll see what happens. I’d settle for “good enough”.

The world is changing. Now, more than ever, families are taking into account their impact on the planet. Regardless of these strides, many still find it difficult to remember to put recyclables in the bin and not the trash. While the world is moving towards a Greener tomorrow, we’re not there yet.

Kids today are inundated with games, electronics, and social networking. More often than not, thinking Green falls on deaf ears. In this wham-bam-thank-you-mame society, how do you get kids excited about saving the planet? At their tender ages, they are invincible. The world only ends in movies or when that cute guy doesn’t like you back.

Parents know that kids require constant reminders for just about everything. From picking up their clothes to putting cans in the recycling bin. Instituting new house rules is often like pulling teeth. Let’s face it, sometimes kids just forget no matter how good their intentions are.

Never underestimate the power of posted signs. Kids aren’t always aware that these days, just about everything is recyclable; from Styrofoam to cat food cans. Kids also like to participate in grown up conversations. Talking to them, asking their advice, and opening frequent dialogs is a good way to keep the planet on their minds. Kids also like new information. Saying things like “Did you know that that water bottle will end up in landfill and it will take 450-1000 to decompose?” gets their wheels turning. Furthermore, fun activities like a family garden give them hands on experience in living self-sufficiently. Get creative and most importantly, make it fun and engaging. Before no time, you won’t have to dig a Coke can out of the trash ever again.

In the end…2009

Posted on by
1

Now’s as good a time as any to contemplate the last 300+ days. You might wanna grab a snack for this one.

January
Seems like forever ago. We had friends Dave and Jason over for dinner. I cooked and cleaned, food was good, company was better. My brother JCS and I drove up to San Fransisco to see my sister and sister-in-law. We discovered that JCS has a fear of bridges, which he somewhat-conquered by willingly crossing over the Bay Bridge. Attended the bris of AJB’s cousin’s newborn son Jackson. It was interesting to witness this ceremony. Strange and interesting, but also very special.

February
In February, things were going well business-wise and I was quite busy. I wrote about learning to cook for the kids, learning that kids today have no Saturday Morning Cartoon rituals, and procuring the Wii Fit – which we used quite a lot at the time. AJB and I had a nice Valemtimes Day; Dinner and a movie. That month, we took my Mom to see the local production of the “The Wonderful Ice Cream Suit” in South Pasadena, finding out what happened to that kid from Herbie Goes Bananas. Todd moved to Morocco, re-homing his cat Eva with us. She is Matilda’s sister, but there would be many obstacles to overcome, integrating two head-strong cats. I shot stills for a webshow-pilot called Sonny McCleans that never saw the light of day. Several early mornings in a bar in Santa Monica shooting scenes. I loved it and learned I can also shoot stills pretty well. I ended up not going to the pilot viewing for some reason. I guess I didn’t feel like it.

March
Things started getting complicated in March. I turned 34 and had a lack-luster party, causing me to imagine that I might need to be a little more proactive with the people I call friends. I started to stress about the wedding and how we had little time to plan. AJB and I went to Washington DC, had a nice time touring our Nation’s capitol, visiting the Lincoln Memorial and others. I was tired most of the trip. In March, I did a parasite cleanse, which wasn’t fun, but turns out is probably necessary. We came upon the 2 year anniversary of my Dad’s passing. March is always a hard month. It’s hard to commemorate my Dad’s death and then get into birthday mode just a few weeks later. We saw The Watchmen and it sucked, leaving a bad taste in our mouths for months to come. I would be contacted by a graphic designer who wanted me to become his company’s new photographer and give him a cut of the profits. It was a strange deal which involved him re-designing my website to impress his boss, meeting the owner dressed like a professional, and up-selling myself in a way I’d never done before. My sister and sister-in-law were in town to help me buy a “professional” outfit. I didn’t get the job. Mostly because I think the owner was a cheapskate and never really had any interest in re-shooting the entire catalog and not for the price I was quoting – which was on the low end. I was still getting a decent amount of work.

April
Spring was here and I was feeling springy. I started planting in my garden and feeling homey. I made butter, but haven’t done it again since. I was thinking a lot about the wedding, trying to figure out what to do about my dress. Get it made or buy it? Swine Flu was big news, but I wasn’t worried. Business was slow and I was working hard to get more money in; with little success.

May
The wedding was starting to encompass my entire life. My Mom, JCS, AJB, and I were busting ass to get the Save the Dates out. They were legendary and so totally worth the time and effort. I started an internship with the famous photographer David LaChapelle. I was really excited. I would soon learn how cruel people are to their interns; and how the word “intern” really just means “free labor”. My sister came down from Vallejo. I really wish I’d blog more. AJB and I went to a performance of Leviathan 99. It was live radio performance. I was in the same room with Ray Bradbury, William Shatner, and Walter Koenig. I met Walter Koenig. Nerd heaven. *I’ve met Bradbury several times before this and didn’t feel the need to bother him at this occasion.

June
Lots of celebrities died: Ed McMahon, Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, Billy Mays, and Sky Saxon. I was still fighting eczema flare-ups which were causing me a good deal of stress – to think, I’d have rash-face at my wedding? This only made the rashes worse. I started seeing a homeopathic doctor, which didn’t really help, despite the expense. He had me go on a allergy-elimination diet, giving up all the food I love for weeks. Coffee was the hardest. I was pretty happy when I got back on it. My future Mother-in-Law came into town. AJB’s aunt and uncle threw us a sweet, little, engagement party at Buca di Beppo. It was a lot of fun and the staff spelled my name wrong on the cake.

July
I did an amazing photoshoot. The theme was Sid and Nancy at home – what would happen if they got married and lived a normal life? It was epic. I still haven’t edited the photos. I needed something to get my mind off the wedding and it worked, briefly. I only posted twice in July. We met with our Eco-Friendly wedding planner for the first time. She would later prove frustrating. Took Oatmeal to the vet and discovered he has heartworms. Traveled to Chicago (missing Comic-Con) for our Mid-Western engagement party; thrown by AJB’s mom. We took my Mom and had a great time showing her the city. It was her first trip to Chicago and she had a blast. A few jobs were coming in, but nothing substantial. The kids left for their yearly trip to Ireland.

August
Wedding plans were in full swing. Almost the entire month is colored-coded Orange on our shared calendar. My sister came into town to help with wedding prep. Lots to do, stress was high, and I was still fighting eczema, even though it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been in previous months. AJB and I went to Chicago again; I can’t remember why. The day we got back, AJB, JCS, and I attended a town hall meeting with Rep. Adam Schiff over health care. It was one of those crazy town halls with people screaming that Obama was organizing death panels. Got some great photos. Two weeks later, the San Gabriel mountains caught fire. The “Station Fire” took over the entire landscape, burning thousands of acres. We could see the inferno from our back porch. I got some amazing photos. The air quality was crap for weeks.

September
More wedding stuff. Busy, busy, busy and totally overwhelmed. I was stressed and tired. My sister and Mom put together an absolutely lovely wedding shower for us. Lots of people showed up, but we still had lots of left over food and Margarita mix. Our wedding planner, Amy, was out of town dealing with her father who had a stroke. We started to panic. We still had a million things to do and were floundering without her. I was attempting to work and plan the wedding at the same time, killing myself in the process. This is when we really got serious about planning the wedding. A bit, late, even.

October
Orange coloring coding floods our shared calendar. Wedding blitz mania!! It was the craziest month of the year, a non-stop cavalcade of wedding tasks, excursions to Downtown, meetings, walk-thrus, dress fittings, and choices. It’s a bit of an in-focus blur. Our Halloween wedding was one of the most beautiful days of my life; even if 40% of the attending guests didn’t even get us a card. It’s true. We get the whole recession part, but not even a card? Really? The wedding party looked gorgeous, it was like the end of a Frank Capra film. AJB’s kids were beyond amazing and I couldn’t help but feel thankful the entire day even though it went by in a flash. I have yet to send out thank you cards or rifle through the 1000′s of images taken on that day. My baby brother in Omaha married his girlfriend, the mother of his lovely son, in a secret City Hall wedding; no one was invited and we found out two days after the fact.

November
Our honeymoon in Paris got off to a weird start, but we more than made up for it by staying an extra 5 days; even if AJB missed IAAPA. Paris is a delightful city, but it’s labyrinth-like, a bit intimidating, and massive. I took a million photos, but (as usual) have not gone through them. I suppose I feel like I need to give them time to settle. When we got back, we were quickly off to Chicago for Thanksgiving. There we witnessed the disappointing pre-Broadway production of The Addam’s Family Musical. We also saw Young Frankenstein The Musical, which was a lot of fun. We stayed a week and as much as I love AJB’s old hometown, I was ready to come home. Naturally, when we did, we were slammed back into the realities of everyday life; including a dead rat in the wall and tales of a dead bird under our bed.

December
A hectic month, slow acclimation to my new life as Mrs. AJB. I was not ready for Christmas, though I suppose I never am. I told myself that I’d use December to organize the house, but I’ve done only minor tasks and one or two major ones – there is still a lot to do. I also told myself I’d get back to work in January, but I’m not really prepared. Add to the overall chaos of the holidays, we’ve made a decision which will be revealed in 2010. AJB doesn’t like me blabbing about these things and I suppose he’s right. In December, Pierre started hanging around the yard. I wonder if he’s staying. I hope so, I just bought him a $70 outdoor cat shelter. I made it through the year without anyone I love dying.

Resolutions
I don’t generally like making resolutions because I end up forgetting about them and not completing any of them. I know what I need to do.

2009 was a strange year, one I won’t forget anytime soon. It was the year I got married, after all. I’m looking forward to 2010, but I am filled with trepidation, excitement, anxiety, and hope. 2010, like 2009, will be a contradiction, good and bad. I feel good things coming, but can’t shake feelings that bad things will happen too. Well, that’s life, isn’t it. Good and bad. Seems a common theme, anyway.

Happy New Year.

See what happened in 2008.

The Two Ryes

Posted on by
Reply

Once upon a time…

…I didn’t care what people thought. I didn’t think anyone was reading this blog and I felt free to write whatever the hell I pleased. Mostly, I talked about the days, the things that filled them, and the people who swerved in an out of my life. And then it happened, I wrote about work and my boss read it, tipped off by my “superior” – I use that term loosely. I was frustrated and heartbroken at being passed up for a job I’d earned. I didn’t name names and I was very vague about the incidents that occurred. At work, it became a HUGE issue and I had a serious talk with human resources about it. I was forced to apologize, made up a story about something or other, and eventually got off the hook after being threatened with termination. Truth is, they overreacted and were building a case to fire me by knit-picking and picking on me. I wasn’t easy to work with, you see. I didn’t kowtow to them and I didn’t let them to get away with bullshit. It cost me my job. In the end, however, it wasn’t the job for me and I’m happier now as a freelancer. I also don’t ever regret standing up to assholes, not matter what the outcome.

Since then, I’ve bit my tongue. Now that my blog is connected to a bigger world through Twitter and Facebook, the people I know can now easily find this blog. If I didn’t want anyone to read it, I wouldn’t link the hell out of it, would I? This also means that people I want to read the blog can find it, but so can people I don’t.

I suppose I can’t really blame Mary Fisher and Jonathan Meiners for my own self inflicted censorship. At least they got me thinking about what I write and who it affects. I was no longer able to let it all hang out and became concerned with pissing people off. Who had I let myself become? Someone who cared what people think? That’s not me.

As kids came into my life, I censored myself a bit more, thinking they might stumble onto my blog and learn a few curse words; not that they didn’t already know curse words. I also didn’t want my now-husband’s family to think I was uncouth. Except, I am a bit uncouth. I curse like a sailor and I read Charles Bukowski. I write what’s on my mind as it comes into my mind. I don’t plan, I just write. I log in and whatever comes out, comes out. Or…that’s how it used to be, anyway.

I contradict myself. I am uncouth, but I am also gentile and fancy. I used to like the way I wrote. I took my lessons from Bukowski and Salinger; the two Ryes – “Ham on…” and “Catcher in the…”. I wanted to be eloquent, sweet, charming and a bit of artistic foul.

Jerky bosses and the clean minds of small children.

I used to date a guy who made me cry all the time. One night he said, “I’m not making you cry, you’re making yourself cry” I argued that no, indeed, he was making me cry. It wasn’t until years later that I understood what he meant. What he meant was that I controlled how things affected me. If someone called me an asshole, it was my choice to get upset. I could also call them an asshole right back. It was me choosing to react a certain way; not one person (besides me) controls how I feel. Now, not to say that mean boyfriends don’t have some effect on our emotions, but how we react is what matters. Let’s face it, I was probably crying to make him feel bad about the way he treated me.

On occasion, people say things that make me cry, but it’s always my choice to cry or not. I realized that life isn’t about what other people do to me, it’s how I react. If some fuckhead boss makes my life hell, I have options. Those options aren’t always clear, but in the end, what I do in relation to those heinous acts is my doing.

I chose to censor myself. Who I am and what I write is in direct correlation to who I decide to be and what I choose to write. It’s all on me. So, do I worry about pissing people off? Sure I do. Do I worry about hurting people’s feelings? You bet. Should I let that stop me from doing what I want to do? Well…let me get back to you on that one. This does not mean I give myself free license to say whatever I want despite who it hurts. I’m not that kind of person anyway. I don’t enjoy hurting people’s feelings.

This gets confusing when I stop to think about it. To be free and speak my mind, I must also censor myself to some extent. If my husband is acting like a jerk, it’s probably not a good idea to tear him a new one in front of the whole world. Those conversations are best left to private discussions – the way they’ve always been. I suppose it becomes an issue of respect. I respect my husband and his feelings. I care about him and saying he’s a jerk online probably wouldn’t make him feel good. Also, he’s not a jerk. If he was, I suppose I wouldn’t care either way. He is, in fact, a pretty sweet guy and I love him a lot.

So there…choices but on a case by case basis. Censorship and free will, with respect for my friends and loved ones. I guess it’s always been like that, but I can’t be afraid to cuss or complain about a hard day. Oh, and I also can’t complain about my clients. That would be bad.

With so many people to consider, whats the point, you may ask? Do the really bold writers worry about what their wives will say or do they just say it and take the consequences? It’s obvious that Bukowski didn’t give a shit what anyone said and he died a drunk. He was also a poet. There are always repercussions, I guess. Any writer must face the fact that not everyone will agree with them. My objective isn’t to alienate myself, but to get things off my chest…in a way that doesn’t hurt anyone? I can’t promise anything. Let’s just say I’ll try.

The Parisian Flea Circus

Posted on by
1

It took us a bit longer to get over jet lag than I would have guessed it should. Our first week in Paris was a bit muddled, but we saw some of the major attractions; including the Eiffel Tower.

Adding to the muddle, our first hotel turned out to be a flea bag. The night we got back from London, we slept well for a few hours until being awoken, horribly bitten by…we guessed fleas, but frankly, it could have just as easily been bed bugs. The hotelier proclaimed it was mosquitos, to which we replied, “yes, but if a hotel has a mosquito problem, isn’t that just as bad as fleas?” Naturally, we said this amongst ourselves. It’s too bad it turned out that way. It was such a cute hotel and we rather liked the hotelier, Nelly.

That day was a bit of a loss. Exhausted and bitten up, we went to the Eiffel Tower and had a grand time, but I suppose we were both a bit cranky, even under the sparkling light show of the amazing steel structure; which is glorious even though I’ve seen in a million times in movies and on postcards, it is still a sight to behold and literally one of the best views of Paris money can buy. It really is a grandeur you can’t imagine until you’re standing right under it.

I’m a bit strapped for time at the moment, so when I get a breather, I’ll post more – along with some photos. Today we’re heading to Montmarte for the flea market. huh. Seems to be a theme here.

Love from Paris, Kristen

16 Days to Go

Posted on by
1

It’s been hitting me for a year, but it’s only really started hitting me over the last few weeks. I mean, really sinking in: I’m getting married.

When I was 9 years old, I was playing in my grandfather’s backyard in Pico Rivera. I was making mud pies – not because I necessarily liked mud, but because I felt that it was something kids should do and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Conclusion? It was dirty. Mom called me to the house and as I ran towards the door, a thought flashed into my brain: I’ll never get married. I stopped dead in my tracks and wondered why I’d thought that. At 9, I was already fairly perceptive and knew that it was strange for a 9 year old to have such thoughts. However, being 9, I quickly wiped it from my mind and went about the rest of my day. Thing is, it stuck with me.

Not that I let this thought control my future or decide how I should live my life. Nor did I look upon it as a premonition. Strange thing is, it still pops into my head when I think about getting married – yet, here I am, 16 days to go, getting married – 9 year old me be damned.

What does any of that mean? Nothing.

When I tell people I’m getting married, they all congratulate me and tell me how much fun I must be having. They’re only half right. While all this massive amounts of planning has it’s high points, it’s also filled with a great deal of anxiety and dread. Not for the man I’m marrying, but for the large scale event that we are undertaking. We’re talking at least 150 people (maybe less), out-of-towners, people I haven’t seen in years, family, friends, dressing up, looking good, making speeches, dancing in front of a crowd, talking in front of a crowd, social graces, being wonderful, and not freaking out. Except, all that makes me freak out.

9 must have been an odd year. It was also at age 9 that I learned to fear speaking in front of crowds. I was, in fact, one of the best spellers in my entire school. That’s not saying much, if you knew the school I went to. Regardless, I was asked to be a part of the regional spelling bee. You know, one of those that could lead to even bigger spelling bees, like the kind kids faint at. I studied hard, I knew my words, I was confident. I got up there, my first round. The word was “cough”. I spelled “couch”. People laughed and I was done. Game over. I don’t remember crying, but I do recall the weight of shame and horror I felt. Since then, I have a hard time getting in front of people – even if it’s just showing off my hilarious comedy skills.

In high-school, I attempted to conquer my fears and joined the drama club. I couldn’t even audition in front of the teacher. I stood there, sweating like an idiot and actually walked out of the room without a word, never to return.

As much as I know where my fears spring from, it doesn’t make it easier. The last time I spoke in front of a group was at Hot Topic almost 3 years ago. They made us do some kind of lame skit that involved me writing a hilarious speech. And it was hilarious, in context to what we were doing. I got a few chuckles from the people who “got” my jokes – you must understand, I don’t play for the bottom feeders, I use only high brow comedy in situations like these. And truth be told, my comedy isn’t for everyone. I’m often far too subtle.

I digress, while up on stage, my body shook, my hands trembled, my ears rang, my face heated up, my voice wavered, and boy did I sweat! I made it through, but it was hard and there were a few moments where I felt as though I might actually pass out.

Unlike Albert Brooks in “Defending Your Life”, I completed the task I was afraid of, but it didn’t make me feel better and I’m still afraid of speaking in front of groups.

I think perhaps my biggest fear about the wedding, isn’t so much how well the event goes off – I know everything will be fine – but that I will be on display for an entire evening. I will be congratulated by people I know and don’t know. I will dance, eat, cut the cake, throw my garter, and all those awesome things people do at weddings – all in front of hundreds of eyes. I will also proclaim my undying love for AJB – for the whole world to see. I mean, that’s a big deal, right? A really big deal.

It goes without saying that I am happy about the whole thing in general. 9 year old fears aside, I realize that weddings are one of those times in life where (if you’re lucky) you don’t get a do-over. The idea is that you do it once and that’s it. You get one chance to get it right, to be fabulous and throw an event that people will remember forever. No pressure.

I’m also filled with a deep sadness regarding the absence of my Dad at my wedding. He won’t walk me down the aisle, he won’t give me away, he won’t dance with me, and he won’t give an embarrassing speech about how he wasn’t sure he liked AJB in the beginning, but grew to appreciate him – without actually saying how much he appreciates him, or how AJB has numerous faults, but no, just kidding, he’s a good guy. I know that there will be a million points during my wedding where I will be unable to contain my sadness and others where I will be unable to contain my joy. I will, instead, dance with my brothers – who I adore.

I know. It’s all going to be great and everything will be fine.

A Glimpse at Motherhood

Posted on by
Reply

AJB has 3 lovely children. Each one of them is unique, intelligent, kind, considerate, generous, loving, and a billion other wonderful adjectives. Over the 5 years I’ve been a part of their lives, I’ve realized that even the best of children are still that…children. I’ve also come to realize that when your mother tells you “you’ll understand when you have your own kids” she is not only right, she is foreseeing the future. My mother is overjoyed that I have finally seen this truth.

AJB’s kids visit with us every Wednesday and every other weekend. Sometimes it seems like too much, other times not nearly enough. I’ve only ever had cats, so in the beginning it was a difficult transition. I went through a bit of shell shock and was frustrated because I teetered on the border of wanting to be their friend, but also not wanting to allow them full reign over the house. You see, it’s important they like me and not see me as some kind of wicked step-mother or psycho harpy stealing their father from them. For kids, it’s confusing enough when your parents don’t live together and you’re split between two homes. Add another woman into the mix? Kids often wonder how they should partition their affections. If they hate the new woman, it’s easy. If they like her, it’s difficult because they feel loyalty to their mother.

I have the unique perspective of seeing what it’s like to be a mom without actually being a mom. The best part is that all I really have to do is be their friend. And that’s pretty cool. The problem with most moms is that you can’t fully be your child’s friend – not when you also have to be the disciplinarian, the maid, the cook, the counselor, and the chauffeur. More times than not you’re the person nagging them to pick up their socks 20 times a day, cleaning the dishes, reminding them to do their homework, helping them with their homework, and not doing any of the things you want to do. While you’re helping your children become better people, you lose sight of the person you used to be. All of this happens so slowly, it’s the day they leave for college that you find yourself scared, confused, and not sure what to do with yourself or how to communicate with people your own age. 20 years later you find yourself asking “OK, what now?”

Losing yourself in your children is a concept that scares the crap out of me. I like who I am and I’ve spent many years trying to figure that out. As a woman, I am naturally inclined to motherhood and I like the idea of my own children (or child). On the one hand, I want to create kick-ass human beings and there are so many good things about kids. On the other hand, I don’t want to forget who I am or spend the next 20 years picking up dirty socks that aren’t mine. I also want to travel, work on my career, discover things, and zone out to video games everyone once and a while. I also like the idea that if, if I ever wanted to, I could just pick up and leave. I might not, but the option is there.

There are people who say that you can retain yourself and still have children. I wonder. I think about all the moms I know and I find that in order to “stay cool” you must (at least somewhat) ignore your children to concentrate on your own life. And then there’s those moms that give it all to their kids and end up resentful and bitter.

I think one of the biggest mistakes moms make is allowing their families to believe that the house cleans itself over night. When I stay up late cleaning, I think, they’re going to wake up and not even notice the house is clean. It’s always this way. They leave, come back on the weekends and the house is magically clean. So who’s fault is it that kids don’t pick up after themselves? Mine. Their parents. The kids would do it if we asked, we just forget to ask. Next thing you know it’s 2am and the house looks like a tornado blew through it.

Truth is, moms really have no one to blame but themselves. Moms are, innately, the schedule keepers and the ones who keep a house running. Dads do alright, but if given the opportunity, they will happily let someone else do it – because it’s not fun. Therefore, in order to have a harmonious home where everyone chips in, moms have to make it happen. It’s a good deal of work to maintain that level of machine-like operation in a home. Not all moms are up to the challenge. Rather than pull everyone away from their homework, TV watching, internet surfing, or phone talking – which is a hassle – sometimes it’s just easier to do it themselves. Resentment follows.

Answers? No answers. Just comments.

Our Lovely Shower

Posted on by
Reply

click for larger image

My sister and Mom hosted a co-ed wedding shower for AJB and I today. It was lovely. My Mom spent the last month cleaning her yard and house, getting it ready and decorating it to a tee. My sister coordinated, brainstormed, had it catered, sent the invites, helped decorate and was an all around delightful hostess. In the mix, my sister-in-law was my sister’s right hand woman. My aunt Carol busted ass with my Mom to get the house ready. It was an all together amazing feat and they all did such a wonderful job. It was just great.

It was better than I hoped and better than I feel I deserve. It’s like, wow, all this for me and AJB? I can’t tell you how special we felt. We got a good turn out and even though some people didn’t show up (even though they said they would and didn’t even call to cancel) we were surrounded by people we love.

The biggest bummer of the day was that AJB’s kids couldn’t make it. I suppose I shouldn’t get into WHY they weren’t there. It’s not important, but I hope they know how much we missed them today. We really did.

Aside from the absent kids, it was just a spectacular day that went by entirely too fast. Mom had the yard just perfect with cafe lights and a white canopy. Every nook and cranny was clean and organized and filled with something – a plant or yard ornament. And it all looked so pretty.

I’m really bummed that I didn’t have a camera to capture moments or the decor, but it’s my fault – I should have planned ahead instead of expecting someone else to do it – it’s never a good idea to assume anything anyway. Luckily, AJB’s cousin Mike had a camera and took some fantastic photos of the day. Click here.

Did I mention we got presents?? Yeah, we totally did. Lots of presents! It was like frickin’ Christmas! Actually, I didn’t expect gifts at all. I was just happy people showed up. The best part about the gifts was that everyone was so thoughtful. Not one lame gift in the bunch. People even decorated or wrapped the gifts in Halloween themed wrapping. Wow.

I really am overwhelmed. In fact, I’m finding it hard to describe how I feel. I feel loved, that’s all. I’ve always known this, but AJB and I are surrounded by some pretty phenomenal people; really amazing people. Today, it was just so apparent. We have great family and great friends.

I know I’m leaving out details, I’m writing less than eloquently, and being extra girly. It’s after 1am and I’m exhausted. Happy and exhausted.

To everyone that helped pull this off and to everyone that attended, from the bottom of our hearts, we thank you.