I spent Saturday night with Matt at the Getty. We Missed the Kings game for some romance, and hey, they still won. We have been married just over six months now, which Brings our total relationship time close to 8 years (no small feat for a 23 and 25 year old). And somehow, marriage has made a world of difference. First, it feels like something has been accomplished (there's a big sigh of relief), then it feels like I am looking back on a dream when I think about my wedding and honeymoon, and then the start up, which was perhaps not so dream like (We moved to Oregon for 3 months but our job search had no avail. Then we came back to California searching for work, back in with my parents -don't worry we still love each other.. and my parents, back to work, and now looking for apartments-some great and some not so great- on the weekends.)

It is strange, though, to go from seeing each other all day every day to seeing each other a couple of hours with only the weekends to fully spend together. Maybe that's what being grown up is all about. That seems unfair though. It would be more accurate to say that is what working full time is all about.

Anyway getting back to the Getty (which is no longer free after 5 pm on Saturdays), Matt and I succeeded in having some peaceful, romantic, wonderful alone time at one of my favorite places in Los Angeles. I did the unthinkable by asking if we could leave the tv screen during NHL playoffs, especially when our team was playing, and Matt did the most beautiful thing a husband could do. He turned it off and took me out.

Don't settle. Seek!

 It has been almost a month since my last post.. and it has been crazy. I recently was hired back to my old work place as a supervisor. It's a step up (but kind of to the side if you know what I mean). Since my goal in life is not to be a coffee shop store manager or to completely ignore my degree, I have been wondering if going back to this job is a good idea.

     I find my new position to be a big time stress factor in my life. I know that I am fully capable of managing a coffee shop but this is not really moving me forward in any way. I absolutely hate being the person to cut people's hours, and ordering coffee and keeping track of inventory is not exactly a fulfilling task. It is what it is. It is becoming increasingly obvious to me that it is the type of job that you should not have to take home with you (... wish there was an off switch so that when I have to be in at work at 6am on Friday, I am not tossing and turning on Thursday night about getting my pastry order in by one the next day) and ever more obvious that I cannot help but bring it home. Matt has told me repeatedly that I need to stop letting everything get to me and that I am bothered too easily by my work life. I wonder when it will click and I will feel free after I clock out. In the meantime, I enjoy the weekends off although they pass too quickly for my long reading list. 

     Which brings me to what I am currently reading. The Hunger Games (forgive me for picking it up so late). The night before the Hunger Games start Peeta says "I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not...... I keep wishing I could think of a way to.. to show the Capitol they don't own me."  Suddenly I am trying not to laugh aloud while I am reading this. This is all that I want out of a job, out of life. I want to be me. Not some phony who tells people "if you have time to lean, you have time to clean" or sends people home early when I can see in their eyes they really need the hours right now. My fear is the same as Peeta's only I am not a contestant in a death match.  I know that is possible to be good at something even if you are not passionate about it, but if your heart is not in it (even though your performance reads as excellent) then you are still settling for mediocrity. 

     I think ultimately that my coming back has really lit a fire under my bum to start seeking rather than just accepting whatever opportunities fall into my lap.  I think it is high time that I follow through with my passions. The quote "You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take" keeps flashing in my mind (and flashes all the brighter while I am watching the LA Kings in the playoffs). I will always love coffee, but I know that I prefer to be on the customer side of the counter. Once you have a realization or dream of what you want to be or how you want to live your life, you will be miserable if you settle for something rather than work to pursue that goal. 

Attitude Adjustment

      Today began with me waking up later than I had intended. The night before I thought I am going to get up early, walk to Starbucks, and write. So I already messed up with the getting up early, but why is an early start so important anyway? I decided I could still go walk to Starbucks and sit down and write. Then the phone rings, and my sister says that she is pretty much at the house with my nieces. Of course, my nieces are adorable, and by now I feel like I really can't leave anymore. So I sit around looking for a movie for Mia, holding Charley (who has learned the slobbery art of blowing raspberries btw) while I wonder what my own kids will be like someday, and how I will ever go for walks or write when they come into my life.
      I do not want to say that my day is going badly. It is more fitting to say that my day is not going as I planned or hoped. That is kind of life's way, right? What I had been certain of last night was that I should do a physical activity followed by some writing. The day has flown by with a phone call, a fruitless search on Netflix, laundry load number one, a peanut butter English muffin, lots of attempts to keep a five year old and six month old entertained, laundry load number two, and my third cup of coffee. I hate when I get all whiny about not doing anything productive with my day (mainly because then I start worrying about the bigger picture).
      So physical activity, well let me count holding a baby while searching Netflix my physical activity. Writing is well... I am blogging, aren't I? So maybe it is not the exact intentions that I had last night, but it is ticking the boxes on a bunch of technicalities. What I hate more than me getting whiny about my unproductive day is me being whiny about my day and taking it out on the people I love. While I did not write a story or have an intense workout, I did get to spend time with my favorite ladies. If the key to life is balancing mind, body, and soul, then I need to work on keeping my attitude in check (and this is, as most things said on blogs are, easier said than done).

     Perhaps today did not go as planned, but yesterday and the day before I did something worth while and productive in my opinion. I had remembered from a high school art project carving a stamp out of linoleum, so I bought some carving block and linoleum cutters and got to it. I've made four stamps so far and am going to need more carving block soon, because I am addicted. The idea is to use my stamps to decorate wrapping paper, cards, and the like. It also happens to be pretty fun stuff.

 This sort of thing is what I love to do. I have not had so much fun with a DIY project since planning the decorations for my wedding, and I wish that I had thought of it then. I would have thought of some way to have used them.

       I have another craft idea that I hope I will get the chance to do sometime this week, and if I do I will of course post some more pictures.
     

      Overall, I have learned that the selection for the instantly streamed Netflix is lousy, that searching for a movie with a baby in your arms is difficult but not impossible, and that things may not go exactly as planned but there is no use in whining about it (instead I choose to blog about it ;> ). I am going to watch a movie with Matt tonight, and maybe I will get to go on my walk tomorrow.  

     

Body Mind and Spirit

     Before my amazing honeymoon in Ireland, I was rather obsessed with Celtic symbols and knots. One or two stand out in my mind. I am particularly fascinated with the trinity symbols, which have been said to mean various things (Father-Son-Holy Ghost, father-mother-child, maiden-mother-crone, past-present-future, birth-death-rebirth, etc.) but my favorite is body-mind-spirit. I believe that we need to find a balance between the three to live life to its fullest potential. Currently I feel physically, mentally, and (dare I say) spiritually healthy, but not to the extent that I have all of my kinks worked out.
     I feel physically strong, and I do not like going a whole day without a little physical activity. What about diet? I think I eat the right foods. I definitely should be drinking more water. Overall, I think I get an A in body, and I am not saying that I look like a supermodel rather that I pay attention to the way my body feels and don't push it overboard.
     What about mind? Well, I happen to be fond of my mind despite all of its quirks. I read frequently and think a lot. I communicate with my husband and whoever else can stand to listen. However, I do not make myself sit down and write like I know I should. Sometimes I think I need to work out, or look for jobs, or think of what to make for dinner, or.... a million other things that are all dying to be a top priority in my brain (and unfortunately, I allow little things to make it to the top on occasion). I am honest with myself and though this may not sound like a challenge it has been for me in the past, especially in those juicy teenage years (I have some awful and hilarious diary entries to remind me of this).

     Spirit is a tricky beast. This is where morality and dreaming come into play. I think that it takes a lot more than physical or mental exercise to make a healthy spirit. Otherwise, I could just go for a run, play tennis, or volleyball and read, play boggle, or pictionary everyday and be set. My spirit can only be healthy when I discipline myself to do good and to choose right over wrong. I may not consider myself Catholic (because I hate religious dogma), but I know that my parents chose to raise me that way because they believed in having a moral code. My dad at one point last year (regarding the fact that I don't go to church and that I was not going to have a Catholic wedding) looked at me very seriously and told me that he was worried about my soul. I spent quite some time worrying about it too. (I am sorry to any of my Catholic readers, because I have not started going to church again) Now I sincerely believe, after deep consideration of my own father's words, that God (and I do believe in God) is more loving, forgiving, and accepting than any person on this earth can even imagine. This is the God that I choose to believe in, and I hate the idea of fearing Him. It is not my religious beliefs that make up my spirit anyway. It is my attitude, will power, instincts, intuition, aspirations, and my own moral code.
     Body, mind, and spirit collectively make up our essence. They are incredibly intertwined with one another. A psychological issue can manifest into a physical ailment, people! I think that we need to challenge ourselves to involve our mind and spirit in our physical activities, to consider our body and spirit during mental activity, and to be present in body and mind when we go into our spiritual place. Banish feelings of shame, worry, and guilt from this trinity because they create imbalance.

Mardi Gras

     Today being Fat Tuesday, I thought I should plan out all of my over-indulgences before I give something up for the next 40 days. However, I woke up with a tummy still full with yesterday's over-indulgences. I have this really irritating feeling too, that no matter what I give up I won't be able to stick to it. Today is indeed Fat Tuesday, and yet as an American, many of my days are spent chowing down all sorts of junk foods and nights spent gulping down many alcoholic beverages (most often without anything to celebrate). 

     This weekend, I told a friend that I am a three-drink girl. Then, I come across this article in Home Journal magazine and the author says she has been called a "three-drink girl" by her mother with negative connotation. It seemed too much of a coincidence for me to come across this article. The woman who wrote the article could have been me as far as experience goes, and the fact that I could relate so well to this article did not make me feel so good. I have thought about my own drinking habits and wondered if I am on the verge of addiction. I always come up defending myself, and though I do not believe I have any real problems with addiction, my habit of three is not as healthy as I pretend it to be.

      I have a dark side, just ask my sister... or anyone else in my family (but not Matt because he won't speak a word against me despite the fact that he has indeed seen my dark side- we are married afterall), and I can easily say that my drinking brings out this dark side of mine. That is why my first choice in Lenten sacrifice is to give up alcohol (no matter how many birthdays there are to celebrate, the possible trip to Solvang with my mom, or St. Patrick's Day), because I find too many things to celebrate with a glass or two... or three. Just the same with Fat Tuesday, as I could go out for a burger and add fries and a milk shake, have ice cream after a not so healthy dinner, and wake up once again with a tummy ache. I can't do that, however, without thinking that I do this a lot more than I should as it is. 

     So today rather than making a trip to In-N-Out, I told my mom I would go on a hike with her, even though it is Fat Tuesday, and I am not fully in the mood to get off my bum today. I am going to do my best to ditch the irritating feeling that I may not succeed in my Lenten journey by way of using the calendar I bought myself to track my successes. 

     I am not trying to make anyone feel guilty and hope that everyone has a wonderful Mardi Gras! I wish you all the pleasures of the world without a tummy ache to follow.

      

       

Reading Girl

      I am reading Gone with the Wind and now understand the power of the famed book. I have to applaud Margaret Mitchell as I have only read a tenth of the book and feel a feverishness taking over me. I was hardly able to put the book down to answer the phone for my sister (fortunately for her, it was high time for a bathroom break). The power of a good book is that it is intoxicating! Only now after having put down my Kindle, I have realized it is lunch time, and I am hungry (Women, we don't need diets. We need literature!). I graduated with an English degree and took up that course of study because I loved to read. My love of reading was not so connected to a passion for analysis or critique, unless it was in a fiery discussion, as it was to the experience. Now I have the freedom to just experience the book without over thinking, without wondering what my next paper's thesis will be. It's so marvelous I can hardly stand it. Above all, this book makes me feel gloriously feminine. I loved the movie, but you just cannot beat the book.

  

   If I someday have come to terms with my inner critic and can write with as much freedom as I read, I shall have found true bliss. So the journey to becoming a writer has begun with reading. I am as close as I have ever been, but somehow a good book in my hands is my strongest ally and motivation. Hopefully someday I can give that experience to someone else. 

     

     

       We are officially back in Southern California. I had wanted it to feel like cloud nine when we got here, but that would just be too dreamy and easy, wouldn't it? I am finding it harder to write here. There is something stifling in the air. It might be the population size. I cannot help but feel minuscule in Los Angeles. The labyrinth I was dealing with in Oregon just got one hundred times larger. I have to readjust and breathe. My optimism must trump my pessimism.

       I have done a lot of self-reflection lately and know that it can be hard for me to decipher intuition from impulse. This makes a job search incredibly difficult. I do not want to act on impulse. I want to follow my intuition. I want to find a job that speaks to my heart. The money aspect is so unattractive. The cost of living is so high here that I cannot help thinking if I do that will I make enough money? Instead of thinking would it make me happy? The consequence of this mentality is prostitution- doing things without passion for money and sacrificing happiness for success. I know that is below me, but I feel the unpleasant pressure sure enough. After all I dream of having a family someday, and I want to be able to take care of that future family of mine. I don't even want that day to be so far away. My childhood naivete allowed me to think that I would have it all figured out by now.

      I fear looking like a fool for the decisions I make. None the less my decisions are exactly that. Mine! I am the one who will have to live with them, learn from them, and follow through with them. I keep looking to people for advice, but they don't know what I should do. Surprisingly I find support where I expect criticism. I am my largest source of indecision and negative criticism. I desire to let myself aspire more freely. By making myself post on my blog today, I feel that I am regaining the strength to write and to dream.