Chillaxin' (in list form, of course!)

My roommate Julie(tte) came into town last week. We had a blast together, going to LA and eating out and laughing and trying on dresses and reminiscing and kayaking and reading Bridal magazines on the beach. She also took some awesome engagement pictures of my hot fiance and I, which I promise I will post soon, along with all our other sweet shots.

However, since I love the Blog List so dearly and I'd rather write about my roommate-vacay than do anything else, here's the abbreviated breakdown, by the numbers:

75 - miles round-trip to Hollywood and back
60 - dollars of fun money, thanks to our very-much-missed Valerie
4 - new shirts for me, thanks to Julie's impeccable fashion sense
2 - trips to In-N-Out
3 - days laying on the beach
300-something - great engagement pictures
1 - fantastic new lipstick, aptly named: "I do! I do! I do!"
11ty-jillion - times we missed our other roommates
5 - delicious forays to JC Beans
2 - fish tacos each from Pedro's
1 - great Italian meal at Sonny's
7 - bridesmaid dresses tried on
3 - favorite bridal gowns
4 - gerber daisies for the Bower
2 - hours kayaking in the sunshine
6 - days with my Roommate

Best line of the weekend: "You're gonna be Adam's wife and somebody's mom (someday), but it doesn't matter - you'll always be Roommate." ~Jules

The Story

I'm sure that most of you have heard The Proposal Story, and if you haven't, you don't want to because you're either disenchanted with the whole "love" thing, totally happy single and thus unimpressed, or just getting along and doing your best to avoid bitter diatribes at "freaking save the date cards".

(No offense, Annie, I've felt the same way in the past and thought it was too classic not to share. :)

Anyways. The point I'm trying to make is this - I realize that this post is probably completely unnecessary, but I'm going to write it anyway, if nothing else, so I won't forget the little things that make it special.

So. The Friday of Memorial Day weekend, I was supposed to be working a half-day from home. It started out stormy, and the workday was matching the weather with all the gloomy-ness it could muster. It was going horribly and because of the storm, my internet kept cutting out. I'm getting more and more upset as I realize that, not only am I running late, I am running late for a CAMPING TRIP IN THE RAIN. I love camping and all that, but I am not a hard-core mountaineer. I am also very prone to being cold, and once I'm cold, I'm very prone to being miserable. So. Adam came over at the appropriate time, only to find me still hunched over my laptop, getting more miserable by the minute. Being the good sport that he is, he assured me it would be fine, let me finish my work and even bought me a latte on our way out of town - a sure bet to make me smile again.

So, we got up to Sequoia, and it was cold. But it was OK, we had a great dinner with the other early birds, hung out by the fire, and I was feeling pretty cheerful about the whole thing. The next day, I kept bugging Adam to go for a hike. He didn't really seem like he wanted to, which was weird, but luckily for him, he was leading the camp-out, so that gave him an out. Later in the day, he mentioned that he wanted to go for a hike "just the two of us" on Sunday. I thought it was weird that he was planning something that he hadn't wanted to do all of an hour earlier, but I just thought he was being weird.

Saturday night, our friends Phil and Kirsten and Nate and Lindsay showed up. Phil and Adam went off on a random hike and were gone FOREVER. Kirsten and I wondered what the deal was, but we didn't think about it too much.

It started snowing that night. Lindsay, Kirst and I all snuggled in my itty-bitty backpacking tent and had girl-talk. They both are engaged, and hearing them talk about their plans with such assuredness made me wonder if Adam and I would have that someday.

(Also, Before we went to bed, Adam asked if I wanted to just wake up on my own or set an alarm. I thought that was weird, too, normally he's so relaxed about that kind of thing.)

The next day (still snowing/raining) we hung out by the fire and had some coffee, than Adam came over to me sort of sneakily and asked if I was ready to go. As we left, I asked if we shouldn't tell somebody where we were going. "I told Phil and Rocky last night," Adam assured me. Again, weird. Also, why on earth was he carrying such a big backpack for a little hike? Where were we going, anyway?

He said it was just some breakfast stuff, and I believed him. Looking back, I just swallowed a lot of things that were definitely fishy.

We hiked for a while on this beautiful trail through the woods. I did turn around a time or two to see if Phil was following. I figured if Adam was proposing, Phil would be in on it with a camera... but he wasn't, and Adam seemed nonchalant about looking around the forest, so I put it the proposal idea out of my head. The whole time it was sort of misting/snowing/raining, but we were working hard and didn't mind. We got to some pretty deep snow and decided that our boots weren't quite up to that (I've worn mine since high school) and we turned around and found a big stump in a pretty area to sit on.

Adam said he brought me out there to tell me all the reasons why he loved me. He pulled out a piece of notebook paper and started telling me all these things and read a scripture. It was very special, and I thought he was just being sweet for our one year anniversary. After he'd finished, we sat there for a minute, but I, being the practical girl that I am, suggested that we break open his backpack o' breakfast.

"I have one question I have to ask you first," he said, at which point it started hailing and I started hyperventilating, saying yes over and over, as he got down on one knee (in the snow!) and pulled out the ring. I teared up and said yes again.

He had packed a whopper of a celebratory breakfast, complete with prosciutto, cheese, fruit, yogurts, hummus, pita chips, crackers, bread, brie and champagne and OJ for mimosas. We made mimosas in our Nalgene, (in his hurry, Adam had forgotten the flutes, which we decided was sort of appropriate anyway) and had an AMAZING breakfast together, despite the cold.

We took some pictures and walked back to camp, where Phil happened to be waiting in the parking lot for us. He got Kirsten, Nate and Lindsay, and us girls did an awesome screaming engaged jumping dance.

All day was euphoric, and even though the weather got so bad that we had to pack up and head home that night, we still had the best engaged day ever, and tried our best to slip the word "fiance" into every possible sentence. Actually, I'm pretty sure we still do that. Or at least I do.

I love Adam because he's my best friend as well as my love. He knew exactly what would make me happy in a proposal, and he did so fantastic at it.

Here's us on our stump, just after he asked:

Tyrone Wells - Live at the Coach House

I went on one of the most awesome dates of my life last night. Tyrone Wells played at the Coach House in San Juan Capistrano, and Adam and I went to get wowed once again.

He did not disappoint. The man is an amazing singer/songwriter, hilarious storyteller, and great entertainer. I'd never seen him with his whole band before, (last time we saw him, it was in his "home turf" - Plush Cafe in Fullerton - which tops the charts for weirdly bright decor and only holds about 50 people - a totally different vibe from the full band and bar at CH).

I've never been a celebrity follower, (it took me until J.Lo actually had a child to figure out that the GFY rumors were just messing with me,) and while most of my girlfriends will beguile time at the beach or pool with a gossip rag, I'm much more likely to be seen with a fat novel, recent news or a writing magazine. I have to be honest, though, and admit that I am a sold-out Tyrone groupie.

I've learned also, that I should listen to (and become groupies of?) the people who he shares the spotlight with... Amber Rubarth and Jason Reeves were fantastic as well.

ps - Thanks to Adam for being a great date and equally enthusiastic live music lover... at least somebody else feels the need to move to the beat and not sit woodenly like these boring Californians...

ps #2 - We didn't have a camera... but the Blackberry did pretty good at catching the moment:

What a great night.

"Eating is so exciting!"*

In honor of my dear Julie, who will be coming out to the Sunshine State in T-minus One Month, and who gets rightfully excited about all the great things that there are to eat in the world, I've compiled a by-no-means comprehensive list of the incredible eats that abound here in the OC. (She told me to make a list. I can't help myself.)

Also, this is a way to bribe all of you who have not yet purchased tickets to come see me, to do so ASAP. I have fish tacos. And the best bagel sandwiches ever. AND A BEACH, complete with kayak. Come, come.

Fantastic Eating Place #1: Chronic Tacos.
This is probably my favorite place. Here's what I wrote for my "Hungry? Thirsty?" review: "This is Saturday afternoon OC at its finest. Even when popping with people, the atmosphere is relaxed and beachy, and servers and clients alike are friendly and unhurried. It definitely has a local vibe, as most people walk right in and order without a glance at the menu, but not before saying 'Hi' to several other regulars and neighbors. Business people stand comfortably next to beach bums, and everybody walks out with full tummies." My personal favorite thing is the Pollo Asada Burrito with black beans and rice, cheese, guacamole, onions, cilantro, cabbage and green sauce. By the time you've powered through all that, it's time to move up a size and go take a siesta on the beach.

Fantastic Eating Place #2: Golden Spoon
This is definitely a girl place. The yogurt is so cool and delicious and has only 68 calories per 8 oz. of creamy goodness. And they have sprinkles. 'Nuff said.

Fantastic Eating Place #3: Pedro's Tacos
I kinda like Mexican Food. Pedro's is a total dive, but also the BEST baja fish tacos I have EVER had. Two corn tortillas, a giant piece of fried fish, creamy baja sauce and fresh cabbage. Adam and I have made a tradition of getting them after kayaking, and it is the best combo on the planet. Combined with a healthy, kayak-induced hunger, a soft coastal breeze, a Diet Coke and some extra hot sauce... heck yes.

Fantastic Eating Place #4: The Bagel Shack
I love bagels. It's a starchy indulgence that I will never give up. I have loved many bagel-ries in my long and illustrious bagel-eating career, but so far, the Shack tops them all. Styled after a classic Tiki Hut, the Shack is a wonderland of fresh-baked bagels, tan, hungry, sandy-footed beach bums and open-air, Saturday morning chillaxing. Every bagel sandwich is named after a famous local surf spot, and their OJ is seriously the freshest-tasting, most incredible stuff ever. My fave? A Cheddar bagel with "Trestles": ham, pepper jack cheese, onion, pepper, and guacamole.

Fantastic Eating Place #5: JC Beans
Best coffee in South County. Hands down. Unlike Starbucks, you don't need a quad-shot in a 16 oz., their espresso is so good that three does the job easily. The baristas are friendly, the outside is hand-muraled, and the inside looks like C.S. Lewis' study would if he lived at the beach. And it's a block from my house and cheaper than the 'Bucks. Delicious.

Fantastic Eating Place #5: Sonny's Pizzeria and Pasta
I like to say that this is where Adam and I had our first date. At least it's the first time that I remember knowing for pretty dang sure that he wasn't just a friend. I ordered a beer and he told me later he was very relieved that I was a "cool girl". (As if he didn't know that already! ;) Anyway, it's a very cute hole-in-the-wall pizza joint, the kind with busty waitresses, probably not-so-distant mob connections, twinkle lights and great food. Also, it's known to attract pretty people, (I mean, obviously, Adam goes there, Bah-dum-ching!) as the last time we ate there we saw this guy, in the flesh.

Fantastic Eating Place #6: El Mariachi
I warned you I liked Mexican food. El Mariachi doesn't have a website, but that's just because their food is so freaking fantastic they don't need one. And they have a "Grotto De Amor" and great margaritas, so it's pretty much my favorite restaurant.

Fantastic Eating Place #7: Mosun's
We started going to Mosun's because they have 50% off on Wednesdays and Fridays, and Adam eats a lot. It is a seriously swanky sushi bar (try saying that five times fast,) that opens into a dance club at night. It's also located in downtown Laguna Beach, which is touristy and fun to wander around in... especially when you save room for a stroll to the gelato shop down the way and a walk on Main Beach. Tip: try the Firecracker Roll. It's fantastic.

Fantastic Eating Place #8: The Chart House, Dana Point
High-class steak house with a multi-million dollar view of the Harbor and some killer mixed drinks. Take your girlfriend there for her birthday and it will melt her heart. Just sayin'.

Fantastic Eating Place #9: The Yard House
Now, I know there are Yard Houses everywhere, and I did my best to keep chains out of this list. However, this is a great place. I love the Snakebite (half Carlsberg, half cider) and many a memorable talk has been had sitting outside, at night, on heavy teak furniture over a pint or two. One of my favorite times was in Shoreline Village in Long Beach, after a long day working the Motorcycle Show, kicking back, watching the lights on the water and having a beer with one of the best sports I know.

Fantastic Eating Place #10: Waffle Lady
As of last week, this place now shares facilities with a BBQ joint, but I'm sure it's still amazing. The last time I went I got the Cinn-A-Wonderful Waffles, which were just that. Wonderful. Light, melt-in-your-mouth waffles loaded with cinnamon and walnuts with cream and syrup on the side for a drench-your-own experience. Like a cinnamon roll, only better (and more waffle-y). If that's not adventurous enough, Waffles with everything from chocolate chips to cheddar cheese and jalapeno also smell great, although I haven't tried them all.

*A direct quote from Julie, circa junior year or so.

I'm baaaaaaack! (you know you missed me...)

Hey peeps.

New Orleans was great. Beyond great. Fantastic. I'll tell you more as my thoughts swirl around in my head and finally make it out on paper, but until then, here's a couple of pics to tide you over.

This picture says: "New Orleans is pretty and we're tired!" Which about sums it up.

Honestly, though, it was a life-changing trip and I can't wait to share my still-getting-figured-out thoughts on all of it. I just wanted to post something and let you know that I'm back and my heart didn't stop from too much Creole.

More to come! Stay tuned...

Therapy, Part Deux

So I've been thinking about what's therapeutic in my life, and have come up with a list of some things that make me sunshiney when I'm a tad blue. (Not really blue, blue like bummed. You probably knew that, but it is Friday, so I thought I'd clear it up, just to be sure.)

• Writing, of course
• Playing with Photoshop, drawing, being creative
  
• Curling up on the couch with some coffee if it's cold and Diet Coke if it's warm, and a good book
• Journaling
  
• Smallville (I know, I know. It's cheesy and predictable and filled with horrible lines and unrequited high school love. But it has some golden moments, I have some great memories associated with watching the first couple of seasons, and I do love the Man of Steel.)
• Driving PCH (Preferably without traffic... hint, hint, road construction)
• A good talk with a good girlfriend, my mom or Adam
• Ice cream. Always.
• Flowers. Also always.
• Cleaning the house. (I think this proves I have a dormant housewife inside somewhere - remember the mom on The Emperor's New Groove? "I need to clean something!")
• Tanning. Whether it's laying on the beach, at the pool, or even fake baking, acquiring skin cancer and great legs at the same time is AWESOME.
• Showers. I love showers. I think it kinda comes hand-in-hand with my soap/shampoo/smelly things fetish.
• So, I'll admit it. Trying new (expensive and smelly) soap/shampoo makes me happy.
• Hot tubs. I don't get to do this often enough. But when I do....
• Swimming in ocean/kayaking/being outside is great. I don't know if it should technically be listed as therapy, since I don't exactly finish a hard day at work and think, "I'm gonna go take a dip!" But maybe I should start. Anyway, it's all awesome and should be included in every list.
• Cooking for someone who appreciates it. (Adam)
  
• Shopping. I know! I'm such a girl. I... like to shop. I'm trying to come up with excuses, but I can't. I know it's pathetic and OC-ish of me. I'm sorry. But I do like it.

There's a Spring in My Step

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I would like to share with you all the glad tidings that Lady Spring has finally arrived. I got such a kick out of my my sister-in-law's Spring-y observation of Portland versus our colder native habitat, that I simply must share: "I'm enjoying getting to "know" Portland. I learned there IS such a thing a Spring!! I always wondered why Easter was marked by a white bunny hopping around in green grass with a basket of yellow flowers, instead of grunge-haired cow stuck mid-belly in brown snowbank. Or... maybe it's just a matter of marketing."

Hee. Love it. While the beauty of mountain-range wildflowers is made all the sweeter by the memory of last month's "grunge-haired cows" - it is an incredible phenomenon to this country girl to see flowers popping out of perfectly groomed medians and hillsides bursting into bloom, accompanied by 70-degree temperatures and the insatiable desire to cook my skin at the beach. (Unfortunately, the water temperature hasn't quite caught up with the sunshine - it's still a brisk 58 degrees. I say, being the tough girl that I am, that if any part of me is blue, or if I wish I could wear two wet suits, or if after five minutes in the water I start hallucinating about being a survivor of the Titanic, it's too soon to get in. It's too soon.)

This weekend, Hot Donna and I had our traditional Hot D Summertime Activity: Making Out with Park Newport.* It was beyond amazing, although I did realize that the rainy weather diet of Oreos and Cheeseburgers doesn't work as well in a bikini. Spring Resolution now formed!

Also this weekend, Hot Adam** and I went hiking of off Highway 74 in the Ortegas. Whenever I get pictures off the camera, maybe I'll post a couple. It was gorgeous and freeing and exactly where one should be in the Springtime with someone you love.

So that's the moral of this story. Even though Springing Forward leaves an hour of sleep to be desired, Spring is a fantastic season and you should go out and enjoy it.

*Park Newport is the incredibly posh apartment complex where D lives - it's basically like living at the Hilton, with less luggage-hauling through gigantic lobbies. Making out is not really making out - it's laying out and getting tan - but making out is funnier.
**Not normally what I call BF (although it is apt) but like the above explanation, this too is funnier. I'm all about funny today. It's Tuesday and you still haven't given me any new blog ideas. So there.

Puke of the Brain

Today is the sun is shining. Today I'm insanely busy. Today... is Puke of the Brain Monday! (See? This is what you get for not offering a creative theme. Now you have to sit and read my random thoughts - just know that this is all your own fault for not helping a sister out. )

Anyways.

It's very windy today, kinda like Santa Ana Winds, but chillier. As I was walking up to work this morning, a gardener was using a leaf-blower on the sidewalk. A LEAF-BLOWER. As I'm fighting my way up the walk and my hair sticks out straight behind me and the dust of a thousand empty lots wiggle into my eyes, this guy was futilely blowing specks of dead plant a few feet before they blew back in the gale-force gusts. I felt like asking him if he has a hard time getting up in the morning.

This weekend, a group of about 75 20-somethings went to Mammoth Mountain and tore it up. We ate lots of Pita Pit pitas, had a gi-normous guys against girls snowball fight, played Snow-lympics, sledded, boarded, skiied, played Mafia, board games, charades, answered silly questions and stayed up way too late. One of the funniest moments was playing Charades (guys against girls, of course,) and hearing the guys yelling out answers: "Huuuuuh! Gruummphhh hubbbabab bubbbba humph" and then the girls, about three octaves higher: "Eeeeeeee! Aiyyyyie yiyiyiyiyiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaa!" (Of course, they were saying real words, not war cries, but that was the only way I could convey the difference in tone. Anyways, 75 people in one itty-bitty Condo living room yelling answers gets intense. And guys and girls talk differently. That's pretty much my point.)

One part that was not so fun was when I took an ice chunk to the throat in our oh-so-intense snowball battle. The Trache doesn't respond well to hard cold objects thrown at blazing fast speed. But it was worth the pain for the love of war. The boys paid dearly for their crimes, and more than one tackling occurred.

Speaking of which, remember when we were little, and boys would pull our hair and throw Four-Square balls at us to get our attention? When you're outside playing in the snow, the old rules of playground flirting apply - and still work, oddly enough. Kirsten and I both got body-slammed by our chosen fellas, and weren't offended in the least. Quite the opposite, actually, although we got some snow down their necks to show our "disapproval".

I do not like gas station coffee. Yuck. However, on a cold night, when Mafia is calling and sleep is not going to be found for several hours and Starbucks is closed, it can be quite good. Although I admit that I averted my eyes from the last watery drizzle coming out of the cappuccino machine - lest I be unable to stomach my $1.19 of gas station goodness.

Well, my faithful readers, more brain-puke is coming, and I know you're dying to hear it. However, it's after 5 pm, I've already stayed over an hour late at work, and there are things to done, fields to plow, stories to prep and freelancers to harangue. Back to work, me hearties.

The Seven Dwarves - Bashful

I've kept Bashful to the end because, well, he's the most embarrassing. I don't want to write what I'm bashful about on my blog! I'm bashful about it! Plus, being the modest guy that he is, Bash didn't even want to grace the blog with his presence. "You'll be fine without me," he said. "Besides, I'll just blush...and...twist my beard... and... st-t-t-tutter." But I wouldn't let him hide behind red cheeks and facial hair - I told him that we'd committed to this series, and we were gonna see it through, dadgum it.

He seems OK with it now, and even smiled for the picture, despite the pain he must be inflicting by all this beard braiding.

So, without further ado, a few things that make me Bashful, and a few stories about this weekend (with blushing twists):

• Magazines. I buy a lot of them, and I keep them for a really long time. That's kind of weird, not really embarrassing, unless you count the amount of money I spend on them and the racks to keep them in.
• I get really tired of wearing makeup. Often times, I just don't put it on. I don't usually care until I run into a particularly pretty girl, at which point I always remember the awkward red spots on my nose or bags under my eyes. Ick.
• Note to personal trainers, buff dudes, and desperate gym guys: the gym is not a good place to pick up girls. I smell bad, you do too, and pick-up lines do not work on the self-conscious, or anyone else for that matter.
• Compliments. I get all hot and nervous inside when I'm told I'm good at something, pretty, etc. I'm learning to say thank you and leave it at that.
  
• Now about the weekend - it was phenomenal. It had several things going for it from the start: it was Adam's birthday/Valentine's Day weekend, Ashley was coming to town, and we had Monday off. It got better, because, as you saw before, I bought a kayak, Texas food is delicious, and girls are just as good as the guys at planning Valentine's Day surprises.
  
• "This is getting really embarrassing!" Jill has the best reaction ever to surprises, and when the entire restaurant stops and stares, you know you have a winner. Check out how we spent Saturday morning.
• "It won't be fun if I'm not in the picture..." Ashley is the Queen of Moment-Capturization, even if it requires a teensy bit of staging and some eye rolls from the less-patient members of the family.

So, that's a wrap of the Seven Dwarves. Please comment with suggestions for a new series, topics you would like discussed, or literary character whom you would like me to embody for a day on these pages, to either a comic or tragic end. The sky (aka my finite imagination and abilities,) is the limit!

We Interrupt This Broadcast...

...of the 'Seven Dwarves' series for a very special announcement.

Dani Linthicum, wanna-be adventurer, Pacific Ocean lover and curly-hair-in-wind expert, is now the proud owner of her very own Hobie Revolution ocean kayak, in the sunshiney hue of Golden Papaya.

She is now accepting name suggestions, congratulatory notes and bottles of expensive drink to break over the hull on the eve of her maiden voyage.

Thank you for your kind attention. We will now return to your unpaid regular programming.

The Seven Dwarves - Sleepy

Hello, my faithful readers! Today is Friday. We all know what that means - our poor little selves get to bounce between the exhaustion of finally being done with another week of perpetual motion, the incredible high of the coming weekend, and too much caffeine coursing through our little veins. This generally leads to an abrupt collapse Friday night and an insatiable craving for Cinnamon Toast Crunch on Saturday morning, after a bowl of which the world returns to its axis and we start again, ready to run ourselves ragged with work and fun and errands and commutes and getting gas and milk going bad and church and making coffee and cleaning showers and editing off-road articles and writing html and laughing and admiring the ocean and working out and listening to good music and kayaking and living life.

So, anyway, back to my original point. It's Friday and I'm tired. Sleepy, even. (Did you see what I did right there? I brought life and the blog theme together...)

Things that make me Sleepy and (bonus!) a few notes on sleeping in general:

• Fridays
• Boredom
• Watching Golf on TV
• Sunday afternoons
• I can't fall asleep unless I'm laying on my right side. I didn't know this about myself until Valerie pointed it out to me when I slept below her in Oxford.
• Speaking of sleeping below Val, I'm a very heavy sleeper. Val is not a morning person. We shared a bunkbed in Oxford, and every morning my alarm would go off, I would not hear it, and Val would forcefully shake the bed to wake me up. This was very aggravating to her, but lucky for me, she loves me anyway.
• I also can't sleep unless I'm hugging something, so I still sleep with a stuffed animal curled up in my arms. I know, I'm adorable.
• I scare easily when I'm sleeping.
  
• I'm grumpy/cranky/no fun at all when I'm tired. Sorry to anybody who's tried to interact with me when this is the case. I promise I'll try to be nicer.
• When I'm going to sleep, watching TV, or just sitting for too long, I wiggle a lot. A LOT. When I'm watching LOST or Prison Break or something equally nerve-wracking, I wiggle even more. I swear it gets stressful toxins out of my body, but it also drives some people crazy.
• While we're on the subject of wiggling, I can't sit normally in a chair. I have to have my legs tucked up to my chest, or folded Indian-style, or feet on the dash/desk, or somehow splayed out in a more interesting fashion than feet on the floor or demurely crossed legs. The only time I will control myself is in business meetings, fancy restaurants, or short skirts. Even then, it's a challenge.
• I slept on a couch for two years in college, and for four months in the bower.
• Before I bought my college couch, I seriously considered putting a hammock in my room. I still think that's a pretty awesome idea.
• Sleeping while traveling does not work for me. Planes, trains and automobiles are not comfy.
• More than once, I've fallen asleep on my couch, only to awaken at 3 am with candles still lit, laptop open, and wondering if it's morning, only to look down and see that I'm still in my jeans.
• When I worked as a wrangler, Ami, Boss and I would sometimes eat lunch wherever we were working, and then settle down for 40 winks in the tall grass, hats over our eyes and the smell of a summertime hayfield all around us. What beautiful days.
• Wranglers didn't sleep much. I lived off of 5 hours a night for months at a time - only getting more sleep when I was home for a rare weekend. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for letting me come home to sleep and eat.
• Cabin leaders don't sleep much either. I was 19 the first summer I worked at camp, and I thought I my eyes were gonna dry up and fall out I was so tired. By Day 2.
  
• Going back to sleeping at Mom and Dad's, the Ranch house is seriously the BEST place on Earth to sleep. It's 36-miles-away-from-town quiet, ranch-style peaceful and boasts amazing beds and cozy sheets. Plus, when you get up, Mom's always been cooking something, so the house smells great, and there's a latte machine readily available. Paradise. Can I come home this weekend for a nap?
  
• Napping on the beach, or after a day at the beach, is the most amazing summertime experience. I can't wait for warm weather again...
  
• In college, I usually had Friday afternoons off. After the noise of Chinese Food Friday had subsided and before the fun of Friday night began, I usually had time for a couple hour snooze. Sometimes I really miss college.
  
• Even writing this list is making me really tired. Time for a Friday nap...
  

The Seven Dwarves - Happy

Happy and Grumpy are two dwarves at war. One is perpetually, foolishly optimistic, one is bull-headedly, arms-folded-leave-me-alone, pointing his face stubbornly in the opposite direction. Oddly enough, I think most of us have each one warring for space in the cozy little living rooms of our soul - one wants to play loud music while washing dishes, the other grumbles about it. One gives hugs freely and compliments others on adorable hats and awesome shoes, the other isolates himself with a "harumph" and silently wonders how one could be so foolish as to spend good money on pointy toes and heels.

Today, as most days, I'm trying to help Happy out a bit in his fight for prime Dani Real Estate. The trouble is, he's so dang good-natured that he won't actually beat Grumpy up or shake him down to size, even though I'm convinced he could take him. He just waltzes around admiring the scenery and making pleasant remarks. Dang happiness.

Anyway, I keep whispering little tips to him as to how to slowly edge Grumpy out... we're working on it.... Now if only we had little opposite dwarves for Dopey and Sneezy, like say, "Alert" and "Clear-breathing". They would come in handy.

Anyway, on to everybody's favorite feature, the bulleted list - this time about things that make me Happy:

• Early mornings.
• Sunrises and Sunsets.
• Being outside. I could be walking down a sidewalk and I'm happier than inside.. although actually being outside and out of the city is pretty sweet.
• Ambient lighting. No fluorescents for this girl. I love pretty light fixtures and soft golden light.
  
• Home-made oatmeal raisin cookies. My favorite. Actually, I just like home-made cookies of any variety.
• Flowers. Especially sunflowers and daisies. But you knew that. I kinda say it a lot. :)
• Gmail chat.
• Feeling creative
• Feeling competent and valued.
• Black lids on lattes. White lids are boring. They're for Starbucks and well, the birds, since everything dumb is for them. Black lids are so classy.
• Cheezits and Diet Coke. Perfect afternoon snack.
• Rainy/foggy days - especially if I get a chance to curl up with hot coffee and some inspiration.
• Golden Spoon in the summertime.
• Long talks - feeling understood and heard.
• Horses. I love just about everything about them. Specifically the Paint Mare, specifically at Badger Creek Ranch. Actually, almost everything about Badger Creek Ranch makes me happy. I love the camaraderie, the deep appreciation for and knowledge about the horses, the pace of life, the smell of sagebrush in the rain, summer thunderstorms, knowing where I belong, mountains so close you can touch them, the heavy jangle of spurs on my boots, and the admiring young riders who look up to their wranglers to give them an opportunity to accomplish their greatest dream - to actually ride a horse.
• One-armed photos.
• Emails/phone calls/facebook posts/blog comments/gmail chats to and from my dear, far away friends. I love knowing that I can always talk to you.
• Worship.
• Kayaking.
• Farmer's Markets.
• LOST
• Smelly stuff - soap, shampoo, hair products, candles.... yeah. I'm a girl. I can't help it.
• Swimming in the Ocean. I have been known to duck under a wave and come up laughing for sheer joy. The Pacific has been a part of my earliest and most treasured memories... and I'm always convinced that everybody needs to learn how to swim in it. At least once.
• New books.
• Magazines. I'm always finding new favorites.
• My family. Crazy? Yes. Fun? No doubt.
• Small towns.
• Cowboys, ranchers, farmers, mechanics, bakers, baristas, and blue-collar people in general. So many stories...
• The first snow of winter.
• Wildflowers.
• Home stores. Particularly ones in which there are oodles of adorable things that I can afford.
• Working in the shop.
• Bristle-y kisses and quality time from a certain Somebody.
• Hot D Dates.
• Writing.
• Christmas morning.
• Getting tan.
• Cute shoes.
• Baseball caps with ponytail holes.
  

Obviously, I could keep going.... and I'm a lot Happier now than when I started. Maybe this is my new plan to help out Happy with his joyful takeover... with all this niceness floating around, Grumpy'll probably skeedaddle of his own accord. Actually, I think he just did.

She was a small town girl...

Last Saturday morning I got up blissfully late (it’s sad when 8 a.m. is sleeping in nearly 3 hours, but such is my great job,) and wandered down to the local coffee house. It’s called J.C. Beans (although for a long time I thought its name was “Coffee House” as that is what’s emblazoned most prominently on the side. It wasn’t until I heard a barista answer the phone with a perky “J.C. Beans, good morning!” that I realized the truth.)

Being a small-town-ish girl, I’m always endeavoring to do small-town things, so J.C. Beans is the perfect scratch for my community itch. The baristas are friendly and remember their regulars, the decor is perfect mix of C.S. Lewis’ earthy leather study and eclectic girlishness, and everything reeks of fresh ground coffee and hot apple strudel.

Leaving the coffee house, I continued walking down PCH, savoring my hot triple 1% vanilla latte and the foggy morning air. I smiled at the jogger with her high-maintenance pooch and was quickly reminded that is still Orange County after all, as she looked at me with a “what do YOU want?” glare.

A couple of blocks later found me in Dana Point Plaza, a little grassy park in between Hennesy’s Tavern and the Chevron station, where the Farmer’s Market appears every Saturday.

There’s one booth there that I love - and it’s mostly because of the lady who runs it. I don’t know her name, but I imagine it’s something romantic, like “Rose”, but I’ve never asked, just in case it happens to be quite the opposite, like “Pat” or “Marge”.

She always has a variety of fruit and hand-written squares of cardboard telling her customers that it’s “Very Sweet”. She is probably in late fifties, with long, wavy gray hair and a soft Latino lilt to her voice. She obviously loves her job and her customers, cutting large wedges of Asian pear for her favorites and smiling gleefully as they bite in, waiting for the happy “mmmm” that inevitably follows.

“It’s so good, yeah?” She says, already offering a bag and another sample. “Try the peaches, kind of small, but so sweet, too, honey. Yes... and you want a plum? Here, I give you one.”

Of course, probably 9 out of 10 people who stop end up buying fruit from her, partly because it is incredibly good and partly because she is so captivating herself. As I wander away, licking peach juice from my fingers and carrying a few pounds of fruit in my hand, I hear her, happily offering her wares to more Saturday looky-lous:

“Here, honey, try this. So delicious... good day for fruit, yeah?”

I wander by the flower stands and the bakers, only stopping because it most certainly is sweet bread season and I can’t resist. (Okay, so I stopped by the flowers, too, but firmly told myself “no” before-hand, so I was safe.)
My latte was almost gone and the fruit was feeling heavier, so I started back for home. On my way up the hill, I saw a sign for a “Giant Plant Sale” and knowing a Certain Someone’s wanna-be green thumb, I had to peek in. A crusty old fella was smoking a cigarette and lovingly trimming a fern when I walked up. A couple of palm trees and a some other tropical-looking plants sat on the curb with him - so maybe “Giant” Plant Sale was an exaggeration.

“Hey there,” he said, smiling at me as though I were a good friend. “Need a plant?”

I chuckled a little - I need a plant like I need a hole in my head - but I still reached out to touch a giant palm leaf.

He turned his mouth down and gave an approving nod. “Yep.” He pulled in a hefty draft from his cigarette. “That’s a good choice.” He squinted at me from under his bushy gray eyebrows, waiting.

We chatted a little about the price - and it became pretty clear that he was just a lonely old guy who loved growing things. He nursed plants back to health or grew them from little shoots in his alley, and every now and then he sold them to clueless people like me in “Giant Plant Sales”.

I told him I had a pick-up and would be back. “You’d better hurry,” he urged. “There might be a run on these babies.” Looking down the sleepy street, I doubted it, but I hustled home anyway.

I came back a few minutes later and he was petting a palm tree as he set in the back of a blue mini-van. “Take good care of him - found that one on the street on trash day a few months ago...”

As the van drove away, he turned to me. “Hope that wasn’t one you wanted,” he said, shrugging.

I assured him that it wasn’t, and as he loaded my chosen beauties into Rocky, he told me that he considers himself an abused plant shelter. “People just don’t take time to care about anything anymore,” he said sadly. “If it ain’t a video game, or computer somethin’, it ain’t worth their time.”

After we chatted for a few minutes, I started to get back in my truck. “Anything else catch your fancy?” he said as I turned to go.

“I only have $30.” I said, thinking he was just loathe to let such a silly girl out of his sight without taking some more cash off her hands.

“No, no.” He said, putting a fern and lacey-leafed plant in the back of the truck. “Here’s a couple more. Take ‘em and love ‘em... and bring ‘em back if ya need any help with ‘em. I’ll nurse ‘em back to health for ya or give ya tips if ya like.”

“Okay, thanks.” I said, looking happily at my truck-load of greenery.

I pondered as I drove away how I find it so much easier to strike up a conversation with these older characters then with my own generation. I think it’s because we’re not in competition. When I see a woman roughly around my age, we automatically size one another up - who’s more beautiful, who’s more successful, who’s got the best jewelry - whatever. It sounds so horrible and shallow when I write it down in black and white - and it is - but it still happens, subconsciously and constantly.

With “Rose” and the Plant Guy - it’s easy to talk and connect because we’re not checking out each other’s bling or body or boyfriend - we’re just understanding one another at the most rudimentary level. We connect because of a common love for good fruit or plants or foggy mornings in Dana Point.

There are so many surprisingly beautiful things in the small slices of Life. The world is cast with a broad spectrum of characters - interesting because of their beauties, quirks and imperfections. I hope that I can learn to look into people rather than past them - to see their soul rather then their stereotype. The fingerprints of God cover all of us - even the guy who cuts me off or the stylish woman who makes me feel inferior for a moment.

I need grace to see and appreciate these divine smudges, and to savor the moments rather than rush through them. So here’s to sweet peaches, “Giant Plant Sales” and Saturdays - and to the Roses, Plant Guys, and small-town folk of the world.

The Wonderful Thing That Is Escapism

The TV blares the evening news from the next room, informing us all of the earth-shattering new discoveries that exercise is good for you and politicians lie. My cell phone goes off, again, reminding me that I am not as hard to find as I wish, I hear the teenage girl next door giggling to her boyfriend, and the neighbor’s dog lets out a lonesome howl that was rather pathetic a month ago and is now just annoying.
When I leave the house, I am reminded, (as though I could ever forget,) that I share this place with a gersquillion other people, and some of them aren’t very nice. They honk and do the one-fingered “California wave” (haha) in the car, glare at you in line at the store, and talk loudly on their cell phones in public places, as though you really want to hear about their “f***ing ex”.
I’m a country girl at heart, so sometimes I get a little over-stimulated by so much noise. Sometimes I just need to get out and away... which is why Monday (Labor Day) was the best day EVER.
As the aforementioned country girl, I am also a total morning person, so I was really excited to start my day relatively early with a big travel mug of coffee and a pretty drive to Dana Point. Adam and I loaded up his kayak and went to Dana to rent one for me... and proceeded to spend the next couple hours kayaking from Dana Harbor, out beyond the Jetty (and into some pretty big swells, mind you - Thanks, Henriette.) and back in. A couple of guys from Adam’s work and small group came too, and it was beautiful, sunny, idyllic... and balm for my poor over-stimulated soul.
After having our kayaking itch sufficiently scratched for the day, we had to have fish tacos. It was just the thing to do, after having been on the ocean all morning, to feast from it’s bounty. :) And oh holy jeez. Pedro’s Fish Tacos might just be the best I’ve ever had. After a full tummy and the lull of the FedEx Cup... (Adam likes to watch golf, which to me is the equivalent of watching grass grow - but nice to nap to.) I promptly fell asleep.
However, we couldn’t sleep for long with the knowledge that the Pacific Ocean and its accompanying sandy beaches were waiting all of a block away - soon we had towels, magazines, sunglasses and a body board in tow and were headed for more sand and surf.
After enough hours in the sun and salt on our bodies to make us human jerky, we headed back home for showers and clean clothes and the Bourne Ultimatum, which was a fantastic finish to one of my all-time favorite book/movie storylines. Thank you, Robert Ludlum, for being a genius, and thank you, Matt Damon, for being insane. Wow. I had been waiting for this for a while, and it was so very worth it.
So that was my Labor Day. Probably the best 12 hours of the whole summer.