Spinsterhood?

There's nothing like being asked to teach the 16 and 17 year old Sunday School class to make you reevaluate where you stand in life.

I constantly think of myself as being a 12-year-old trapped in the life of a 28-year-old. (Notice I didn't say in the body of a 28-year-old, because do I really look 28? No.) I will be driving to work some days and wonder how I ended up with a license, a degree, and a big girl job that makes (lets!) me travel outside the country. It's mind-boggling to me.

Then comes the reality check. When asked if I'd teach this class, my first reaction (outloud, even) was "I look like one of them!" Why would they possibly take me seriously or believe a word I have to say? They might be less ferocious if I come bearing candy every week. Right?

Then I started doing the math and realized that I am actually much further away from them in age than I'm comfortable with. Here's how I broke it down:

- I'm a good 11 years older than them.
- They weren't even old enough to go to Nursery when I was graduating from Primary.
- They were barely in elementary school when I graduated from High School. They weren't even in middle school when I graduated from college!
- I am conciously aware of two more prophets than they are (though I was alive for three others). The one that they're most familiar with, since he was the prophet all throughout their Primary years, was prophet for 13 years. Which means they had just started Nursery when he was called.
- I don't think they would've even been in one of Coley's Seminary classes. That's the saddest part of all. Even Coley is old compared to them! He is, afterall, two thirds of the way through a mission!

I'm old. I'm just missing a bunch of cats. (Which I could easily acquire by simply putting a little dish of cat food outside my front door. There are plenty roaming my neighborhood.) I mean, seriously, what's next for me? Pantyhose? Flat, orthopedic Sunday shoes? Or (gasp!) pantyhose with open-toed sandals?

No way. Right here and now, I'm vowing to not go down that road. I can't and won't be that lady. Heels hurt my feet, but I will endure the pain to avoid looking the part of a spinster. In fact, I might just rock these shoes on Sunday, just to prove that I've still got it.

"Sister Luce! Are those your red and leopard sheets in that picture?"
"Why, yes! Yes, they are." Eat your heart out.

P.S. Jessica Simpson never, no never, lets me down.

The Golden State

These pictures are in no particular order. Not only are my pictures in complete disarray, but blogger likes to make putting pictures in a certain order the more difficult than it really should be. So, without further ado...

This was underneath the Golden Gate Bridge going back to the car after we'd trekked (halfway) across.

I just can't imagine that I'd ever get tired of seeing this. I'd like to give it a whirl, though!

My Papa has always been in love with Marilyn Monroe, so I couldn't pass up the chance to take a picture of the church that she married Joe DiMaggio in. (Coit Tower in the background.)
This picture cracks me up because that's what we did the entire time we were at Muir Woods. We couldn't stop looking up to try to see the how tall the redwoods were!

I don't know who Ana is, but I sure hope she at least gave the guy, who went to all this trouble, some extra brownie points for effort. I have no idea how (or why) he got down there to do this.

I want to live here.

Or here. I don't think it's asking too much.

My dad took this picture. The mom, in the middle, was pretty annoyed that he was taking a picture of her daughter. My personal opinion is that if you CHOOSE to look like this every single day, you (and your family and friends) lose the right to be upset when people want to take pictures of you for looking like you escaped from the circus. Come on. You know how crazy you look. You like the attention!

My dad took this from the San Francisco side of the bridge. He walked the whole way. This was a pleasant little surprise when I was going through their pictures! I love that it looks like a postcard with the flowers. Can you tell I'm ready to go back?
Our car drive (pictured below) was crazy and mean! My dad insisted he get in the picture with my mom and me, even though my mom wanted to get away from him as fast as she could! When we thought he'd be too grumpy to get in the picture, he really responded with a pleasantly surprised "Okay!" and even smiled.

This is all of the family that went to Russell and Kelsey's wedding. What's crazy is that this is only about a third of my dad's side of the family. It's a pretty decent picture, though! The wedding was fantastic. SO happy for those two!

We went to Monterey and the seals were the most active/entertaining there (as opposed to La Jolla and San Fran). If my dad had his way, I'd have been laying down on the ground with them, but this was as close as I was comfortable getting to them. They stink.

My cute little parents in Monterey at Fisherman's Wharf.

This was looking out over the Bay Area from the Oakland Temple grounds. I really just liked how long my hair looks and the color. Is that vain?

I have no idea where this was taken. I just thought it was funny to run across this picture where my dad and I both have our arms crossed. You can kind of see my racoon eyes. I somehow fried my face the day before. I still don't understand how it happened. It definitely snuck up on me!

So these are the highlights. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that there were over 3,000 pictures taken. It's amazing how many pictures you can take with digital cameras and iPhones. It's just too easy to snap picture after picture. I'm glad we were able to, because we did get some decent ones. They may not be exciting to someone else, but they certainly bring back the memories from our trip. That's really what it's about anyway, right?

I Left My Heart

Sunday I returned home from being on a 10-day vacation with my parents. This was the second longest vacation we've ever taken. (The longest being to Utah for 17 days between my junior and senior years of high school, where half of our time was spent in a RV trailing my grandparents in their RV. THAT was a long 17 days.) Don't get me wrong. My parents and I get along really well and I thoroughly enjoy spending time with them. But after several straight days of being with them, I was craving my own space. After all, I live alone and love it.

Anyway... The long and short of it is that we covered a pretty good amount of California in a very short amount of time. We started out in Sacramento, stayed in Lincoln a couple of nights, slept in Walnut Creek the most nights (seeing very little daylight there), spent a few days in San Francisco (quite possibly my favorite city that I've ever been to), visited Sausalito, Monterey, Carmel and Big Sur. All that was in a week.

We spent a lot of time in the car, driving from point A to point F and back again. We were so many places and saw so many things that when I think about it, my head starts to hurt. It occurred to us during this trip that that's how we vacation, unless we go to Ft. Meyer's Beach. It's the only place on the planet that we can be and actually relax. Any other time we travel, we are constantly on the go and need a vacation to recover from our vacation.

Despite being in a Dodge Charger or Chrysler 300 for the better part of 10 days, we did have a good time. Thankfully, we get along well enough that we laugh hysterically at the same things and find humor in most uncomfortable or stressful situations. One minute, my dad can be driving like a maniac while my mom has a death grip on the car door (or her hand pressing through the roof of the car), screaming at the top of her lungs that he's about to run over someone or something. And the next minute I'm laughing at my dad for being in deeeeep trouble while he is looking at her like "What?" and she's laughing a nervous, aggravated laugh like "What idiot gave you a driver's liscence???"

Before we left, people kept telling my dad that he had to drive down Lombard Street in San Fran. After a somewhat terrifying experience in a cab going down Lombard in November (someone who drives down those streets every day), I wasn't thinking that my dad driving it was the best idea. We put him off for several days, to the point where he was almost getting mad that we hadn't gone anywhere near the crookedest part. In true WCL fashion, every time we discussed where our next stop was going to be, he'd say "Where's Lombard? I want to go down Lombard!" Finally, on our last day in the city, we allowed him to test out his skills. And, just like that scary cab driver, when we got to the bottom, he said "You wanna go again?!" Only without the Asian accent. No, no we don't. He swears that after about three trips down, he could go faster than the posted five miles per hour and do a great job. I want no part of that journey.

I liked San Francisco when I was there for work back in November. This time, I loved it. I think I'd like to live there, though I'm not sure I have the guts to make that move. At least not today. It is on my mind all the time, though. I guess I just have to determine if I could like to be there permanently, not just for a few days at a time. Vacationing somewhere and living there are two very different things, which I'm aware of. I just need to put some more thought into it. One of the big things that holds me back, I think, is the distance from my family. I do enjoy being close to them, so going from an hour and fifteen minute car ride to a minimum five hour flight would be tough.

We also spend a few days in San Diego for a wedding. I was there a couple of years ago and absolutely loved it. This time, however, was a completely different experience. Perhaps it was because we were at the tail end of our vacation and were ready to get back to the comforts of home. Or maybe it was because we were constantly searching for the elusive parking space that never materialized. Either way, the highlight of our time there was the hour and a half we spent at the Mormon Battalion Historical Site in Old Town. We happened to stumble upon it on our way to dinner one night. (We knew it was there, just not exactly where it was or that we'd have time to go.) Though tired and hungry and a little bit grumpy, our time spent there changed our entire evening. Isn't it funny how a little taste of the Spirit will turn your whole day around?

Make no mistake. We had a great time. And I look forward to going back and dragging Coley along when he gets home. So, in order to turn this post's seeming frown upside down, here's a list of the highlights:

- Golden Gate Bridge, upclose and person (especially on Tuesday, when the fog actually burnt off and it was sunny and cool and beautiful)
- Dessert at Ghiradelli. A-mazing.
- Finding the Painted Ladies. Or thinking I found them. (I just realized I didn't. Next time. I'm on the right track, at least.)
- Riding the cable car
- Walking all over the city and not sweating to death
- Spending time with family and getting to know extended family much better (A - if you're reading this, we are WAY more alike than I ever would've expected. A most pleasant surprise!)
- Cooler weather
- Visiting three temples in less than 10 days
- Sunset from the Oakland Temple grounds
- Driving along the PCH
- Delicious clam chowder in sourdough bread bowls
- The look on my mom's face when she first stepped into the freezing Pacific. SO funny!
- Sending Coley postcards from every place we visited, to let him know he's never far from our thoughts and we missed him
- Taking more pictures than I know what to do with
- In-N-Out
- R & K's wedding
- Getting splashed in La Jolla, though it was so un-funny at the moment
- Trying to figure out just what the heck a Presidio and an Embarcadero are and why they are so great that they're everywhere
- Seeing the Redwoods at Muir Woods

Lowlights:
- Parking
- Traffic
- Having to go back to work

Perhaps I'll post pictures in another blog, though I've posted a bunch on facebook. I may have more once I go through the ones I took on my camera and that my parents took. We must've taken over 3,000 pictures. I think that's just absurd.

Whoa, Nelly

Several months ago, a friend of mine "pocket dialed" me out of the blue. At the time, I wasn't really talking to anyone unless I absolutely had to. She had no idea what was going on in my life, but once I gave her a brief overview, she commented "Maybe that's why my purse called you. To check on you." As little desire as I had to speak, period, I was so thankful for her call. I'm sure she has no idea that our conversation put my mind at ease, if only for a few short minutes.

As I was leaving work yesterday, she called me again, though this time it was on purpose. When we last spoke, we talked about planning a weekend where she'd come stay with me and we'd just hang out and do whatever came to mind. Since our last conversation, I've thought of her a number of times in passing, but never got around to calling her. When she said she wanted to just see how I was doing, my mind immediately starting thinking of all the "excuses" I had for not calling her. The old stand-by ("I've been soooo busy.") seemed lacking. I have been busy, but not that busy. In fact, the real busy times I've had have been over the last month, not so much the last six. We chatted for a while and caught up and then again discussed getting together.

During our conversation, I mentioned that I often feel like I might be wishing my life away. I tend to like to be able to look forward to something or to know that there is some milestone or marker than I'm coming up on. That, I don't consider to be too bad; having goals is good and having something to work toward is good, too. It's the "I'll feel better/be happier/be content/have it made when I'm making more money/out of debt/married/have kids/in better shape" that is not the best. I would like to think that I am enjoying the stage of life that I'm in, but I do find myself wanting more or wishing I had something to fill the void-of-the-day.

I then found it interesting that I came across this article as I was reading the Ensign tonight. You see, I'm forever in a hurry in my mind. In my life, I try to be on the early side. It stresses me out a little to be late or when other people are late. My mind is always racing, though. I'm always planning my next move, my next meal, the order in which I will complete menial tasks or errands, even pack my suitcase for a trip that's over a month away. Seriously, when I look at the clock and it's past 8:00 at night, I'm figuring out what time whatever I'm watching will be over so that I know when I'll be ready to start my nightly get-ready-for-bed routine. It's a little crazy sometimes.

After the conversation and the article, I'm really starting to realize that I do need to slow it down. I need to just let things happen and not be so concerned with what's to come. I really have little control over the things that I want so desperately to have control of. When things are meant to happen, they will. I need to be better at realizing that the best things that have ever happened in my life have been a surprise or have happened when I least expected it. And that it was when I took a step back and a long, hard look at what was happening to me that I realized that I couldn't have planned for things to have happened any better than they were turning out.

Does that mean that I'll stop counting down how much longer until Coley gets home? Doubtful. But I will think more about how I hope that he is soaking up every single minute of the time that he has serving and that he takes two years to recount all of his memories with us, once he is back.

Clank

We got my dad a Wii for Father's Day last year. After more than six months without touching it, I decided that it was high time we bowled again. Too bad I'd forgotten how sore you are after bowling game after game.

I even tried to teach my 70-something year old grandfather how to bowl. He used to bowl all the time and has a bunch of trophies from tournaments he'd competed in and whatnot. It was no easy feat trying to teach him because he had a stroke over 20 years ago. I was pleasantly surprised when he hung in there and bowled an entire game without giving up and saying he couldn't do it. The experience could've only been better if he'd won the game. Unfortunately I'm not capable of throwing a game just to go easy on someone. Is that mean?

For a short time this morning, my parents and I thought we might have to have a Wii marathon because it was so overcast and rainy. Luckily the rain stopped and we went to beach, even though it was far from sunny, and hung out for a few hours. When we were getting ready to leave, I decided that I'm ready for retirement. But only if I can just hang out and go to the beach whenever I feel like it.

We did manage to squeeze in a few games of bowling before I left. My dad was insistent on just one game. Then just one more. And then one more. He is hilarious to watch when things don't go the way he wants them to. He promised me that he'd be practicing and that he'd beat me the next time we play. We'll see about that. I have the best record in our house. In fact, I probably have the best record of anyone that's ever played on our machine! Yeah, I said it!

If only I could bowl another 298 game. That might be a once-in-a-lifetime thing. Thank goodness I had witnesses AND pictures of the TV screen.

1000 Words

I have never claimed to be a fantastic photographer. I wish that I were but, instead, I must settle for what my little point-and-click will do for me. In reality, no matter how "good" the picture seems to be, it's no substitute for the real thing. Especially when you're in a place like Cabo.

I took almost a gig's worth of pictures while I was there. Below are some of my favorites, though they can never compare to what you see with your own eyes. I'm ready to go back.

Who wouldn't want to stay at a hotel with a lobby like this?

Dinner the first night at Mi Casa in San Jose. Absolutely worth every calorie. Especially the chocolate ice cream. We were resistant to even get dessert, but were talked into it by the wait staff. They brought out the ice cream and some flan. The flan was better than I've ever tasted, but I am by no means a connoissuer. I don't know how they made that ice cream, but I'd pay top dollar to have it delivered to me right this very minute.

I am terrified of lizards, so you can imagine what this scary little creature did to my heart rate. One picture was all I could muster and it was only to prove that I saw a wild iguana with my own two eyes. I'm not even close to kidding when I tell you that I scoured the sidewalk for him every time we got near that rock. Every. Single. Day.

I wasn't all that upset about waking up every morning, considering the view.

This little side street in San Jose had me wondering if this is what Coley sees every day. It definitely made me feel like we were that much closer, since we were already in the same country.

I got to attend the cooking class that was offered as an activity. Here I am, as the chef's happy little helper, making some of the best guacamole I've ever tasted. And I'm not just saying that because I made it. I'm convinced that it's all about the molcajete. I think I need one...

Please remove your hats and bow your head to show respect for what can only be described as Heaven In Your Mouth. I couldn't tell you which is better: the actual churro or the chocolate sauce.

This is what the front of the hotel faces. I would guess it's facing northwest, but I'm no boy scout.

Heading out of the marina.

All the ladies in front of El Arco. It looks like a backdrop, but it most certainly is not!

These two seals apparently decided that Sea Lion's Colony was much too crowded for them and found their own private island.

And then they posed for us. :-)

The arch from the Pacific side.

Those tiny little people in the lower left-ish part of the picture are taking wedding pictures. I don't know how they go there, especially without getting wet, but I bet they'll have some fantastic pictures and fun memories of their day.

This is the beach at El Chileno Bay, where we stopped to swim a little. You can also snorkel in this little bay. There may or may not be a picture of me doing a lame cannonball off the bow of the boat. Don't let anyone fool you; The water here is frigid.

You don't see waves like this in Satellite Beach! (And a little note to myself, from myself.)

One of my co-workers and I kept laughing about how wonderful every picture we took was and we were working especially hard on the ones that captured the reflection in the pool. This happens to be one of the better ones that I got.

My dad was a little disappointed that I didn't take the opportunity to go horseback riding on the beach. I probably should have and may, if given the chance, another time. It was still really cool to see the horses on the beach so close to the hotel every day.

We had a local artist paint this at one of our events. We tried our best to figure out how to get it back home with us, but ended up leaving it in Cabo with "Speedy." It was even more beautiful in person.

Dusk on my last night there.

The morning I left. I was anything but ready.

"Angel Kisses"

The sun and I have always had a love-hate relationship. I like to go to the pool and swimming, but I hate sun screen. It feels gross and smells even worse. As a kid, my least favorite thing about being on vacation was putting on sunscreen. It was such a hassle, especially when you're already wet.

As a teenager, I wanted to be able to lay out like my friends did. The problem with that is that I would get sunburned and be miserable for days on end. Even if I put sun screen on when I first went out, I'd forget to reapply or just tell myself I'd suffer the consequences. Suffering the consequences of a painful sunburn are much easier said than done.

As an adult, I've finally made peace with the fact that I have to wear sunscreen. In the past couple of years (and with the invention of spray sun screen), I've gotten much better about it. I get annoyed with myself if I get burnt, but realize I have no one to blame but myself. I've also come to terms with the fact that I will never tan. Never. I'm still trying to figure out when people, who have known me for years, will figure this out also.

What I do get are freckles. I must have millions. When I am out in the sun for long periods, more start showing up, too. You'd think that, with as many as I have, you wouldn't be able to spot new ones. But the word "freckles" is weird. If you use the word to describe what someone looks like, it more a strike against them.

When people talk about mine, I sometimes feel defensive. In my head, I think "Don't talk about them! If you don't mention them, it's like they don't exist." I need to get over that and I'm starting to. Lately, I've seen more and more people that I think are beautiful and it has occurred to me that they have freckles, too. I think I'll keep working on mine. I don't have much of a choice, do I?

What I have yet to come across, though, is someone who wishes they had more. That'll be the day...