Remind Me…

Remind me to post blogs about:
-Funny things my mom says.
-Funny things my brother says.
-The new fingernail color of the month for February.
-Facebook, the dreaded source of all my past drama. (see here)

Design Funk

I hate it when I hit a design funk at work. I’ll stare at the computer, I’ll research ideas, I’ll doodle and nothing. I always feel handicapped to do my job when that happens. No, I’m not a designer, but I feel like the only contribution I have to this job is to push the limits. Because I’m not afraid to be different, I want to make sure each piece I do is equally different and equally out there from what is currently being produced in our office. I not only want to challenge myself to be better at design but encourage my coworkers to do the same. Well, that is they wanted to.

For the past two days I’ve come into work all sunshine and roses only to be smacked in the face with “don’t talk to me” and “I don’t care” attitudes. This is so not my scene.

I’m alright with quite or keeping to yourself at work, at least for other people. Each day I walk in here happy and awake only to be silenced and pushed in my corner I realize this is not my place. I also get that feeling in many other areas, but we won’t go there today.

The good news I’m still beaming from is that I’m enrolled in a county college starting my prerequisites; slowly, but surely. I’ve enrolled in Anatomy and Physiology. I never seem confident to say that last word. Every time I pronounce it, I get it backwards and forwards.

I’m excited about starting towards my ultimate goal: becoming a nurse. Though I may be going about it slowly, I’m going about it. The class is on the weekends, so there goes my late nights, but I don’t care. I’m enjoying the pace that my life running at these days. Between the gym, work, school, friends, meetings, volunteering, etc., I’m finding my life to finally feel in control.

I’m loving more than anything right now that I”m working out. My body is sore from pulling, running, lifting, cycling and what else I continue to do. I’m not trying to loose weight or anything (though I am), but am trying to tone up. I’m tired of being a weakling with no energy to run back and forth on a basketball court. I want to be able to keep up with the athletic Jones’ and also make my heart happier. This morning, while in cycling class, I was praising God that I have the ability to work out. It feels so good to expel the energy and work your muscles. To breath in and feel the health. Love it.

I also love what working out places my mind. I’m less likely to want to drink oodles and eat everything deep fried. I’m more conscious about feeding my body healthy things to help it burn right and keep burning.

…Some how I need to focus on my design, but I just can’t see the direction I’m wanting to go with it. Oh, well…back to the drawing board as they say.

Money, Take Me Dancing!

I feel slightly, okay really out of control with the amount of money…er…credit I’m spending lately. I’m going to be honest here, so please don’t give me the “parental lesson” about money in our economy right now. Take my honesty as my personal awareness in how wrong my actions are and that I’m working towards correcting the problem. Well, after I buy that thing of make-up and those pair of shoes.

See, that’s my problem. I’m living in this “I’ll stop once I get this because this is what I need.” I know that material things are not nearly as important as those around you and your spiritual connection with God, but it seems that my mind and actions have been doing the opposite.

I really want to teach myself the good responsibilities of saving money, spending when I actually have (rather than living off the credit of my wants) and not letting money control me. “Controlling me”…ugh, I hate that, but it’s so true right now.

I found myself last week talking about it like it was the best thing ever. I don’t remember the conversation, how we got there or even why we stayed there except for the fact that we were all in love with how having nice things made us feel valuable. It made my stomach sick when all the words were thrown out there like messy mounds of grease knowing how hard it would be to sweep it up and there to be no residue left. I felt as if I had sold my soul to a greed and frivolous thing that would leave me groveling in the streets easily once it ran out.

I can’t help but feel ashamed of my attitude, my actions and thoughts towards our economy. People around me are losing their jobs, applying for unemployment and borrowing money from family to make it through. Yet, here I sit looking forward to putting more money on my credit card.

I write all this because I’m trying to open my eyes to the necessity of my choices, but I still can’t help but want to shop. I know it goes back further than just the desire to fill my closet, but that it’s my coping mechanism. I like to cope when I’m scared, tired, happy, sad, worried, excited and every other emotion possible. It also doesn’t help that my roommate is the same way and in many ways we cripple each other.

One thing I really don’t like is celebrities. Not the people themselves (though some of them don’t leave much to be desired) but, rather, the lifestyle. The successful careers rendering them more money than needed and the spending that makes many jealous and want to emulate. I don’t like to know what their doing, who their wearing or what they think. I would much rather exist in my little world as I move and work. I don’t want to go to LA or NY to see where they live or buy the same shoes I saw her wear in that movie. But, some how I’ve allowed myself to walk into it. I would like to blame my roommate for this because of all the magazines she buys (People, Marie Clair, Lucky, Allure…), the Extra she watches and the conversations we seem to have about them. Must break away, really. I’ve given up the magazines like People or InStyle that focus solely on who their wearing what they use to clean their face with. When I find myself looking at their lives I also find that I start to live more like them. Then I spend money and buy into the whole “label is more important than quality” type of thing.

Now, I do have to clarify that I am a brand-loyal person. When brand and quality join together I’m all for it. But I don’t need Chanel or Juicy for the name.

Anyways, I am trying to stop spending money like I am. I know I could gain control if I would exercise my mind around God and those I’m with. I keep thinking that if I can get to this point I would be able to be free of bills, but the honest truth is we’re never free of bills; we just learn to work them into our lives and try not to let them control us. Right…

Jolly Ranchers

Today, I ran a quick errand to Albertsons and picked up some Jolly Ranchers. I was in the mood for something sweet but didn’t want to eat my weight in chocolate (because that’s all I can really do when eating chocolate). I picked up Smoothie kind and some passion fruit kind. The smoothie kind is like their response to Cream Savers, but worse. It’s like half way through it begins to taste like a vitamin. Not okay.

I Just Fell In Love

This song, I found magically, just spoke to me. It’s sang by two of my most favorite folk/indy artists: Rachel Yamagata and Ray LaMontagne. 

“Duet”

Oh Lover, hold on 
’till i come back again 
for these arms are growin’ tired, 
and my tales are wearing thin 

if you’re patient I will surprise, 
when you wake up i’ll have come 

All the angerwill settle down 
and we’ll go do all the things we should have done 

yes i remember what we said 
as we lay down to bed 
i’ll be here if you will only come back home 

oh lover, i’m lost 
because the road i’ve chosen beckens me away 

oh lover, don’t you rome 
now i’m fighting words i never thought i’d say 

but i remember what we said 
as we lay down to bed 
i’ll forgive you oh 
if you just come back home 

hmmm mmmm 
hmmmm mmmm 

Oh lover, I’m old 
you’ll be out there and be thinking just of me 

and i will find you down the road 
and will return back home to where we’re meant to be 

’cause i remember what we said 
as we lay down to bed 
we’ll be back soon as we make history. 

“I Still Love You…”

Some times, I am jealous of those people, girls in particular, who have great relationships with their dads. Mine, I would call some what middle, but slightly destructive. 

In an effort to say what I felt, rather than keep it in, I wrote my dad an email on Saturday night at 4 am. I started out saying “I don’t like you” then I changed it to just say “I’m angry with you”. I went on about how his words hurt me, his inability to tell me I’m capable hurts me and I’m ready for a change. I tried to keep words like “hate”, “your fault” and “worst” out of the email. Instead, I said things like “you hurt me”, “I want things to be different” and “just tell me I’m a good kid”. 

When I was in college, my dad and I started our worst. There was one time I left a message on his voicemail in tears about why he doesn’t love me enough to just talk to me. I left him that message and we never spoke about it. 

I spoke with my mom about it this morning because I had sent it to their personal/home email. He hadn’t yet read it and she decided to do something other than leave it in email form. She printed it, put it in an envelope, wrote a note on the front asking him to pray before he reads it and to read between the lines and will be giving this to him to read on his trip out of town this Thursday. 

I don’t know what to think about it, actually. I’m tired of having to deal with this stuff, though. I’m over the tears, the pain and the frustration. In talking with my mom this morning we were able to say so much of what I had been thinking about him. We both know how he might, more possibly react to this letter. I told my mom he has one choice after this letter and that choice will determined our relationship. IF, he decides to become defensive and throw my sexuality in my face as a way to silence my reaction, I will keep a distance from him until he grows up. If he says “I’m angry, too with you” I will listen and we will start over. If he says  ”I understand” I will exclaim “we have here a new man” and praise him for it. The latter I fear will be not possible unless God softens his heart and makes him see. 

Here’s what I fear: he becomes angry by it, throws my sexuality in my face so he doesn’t have to admit he’s in the wrong. For that he will dangle my inheritance for buying a new home over my head and basically back me into a corner to telling my 75 year old, conservative grandfather of my bisexuality. I think he thinks I wouldn’t do it, but what he doesn’t seem to realize is I don’t back down from being pushed. I’m a big believer in open honesty and if he wants to start this with my grandfather (who I believe already has his thoughts on this matter about me) then I will. It will then spread to my family members and will spurn this whole conversation that I think he would have rather I never said anything. It will become a game of “will she, won’t she” for him and I plan to call his bluff every time. Perhaps that’s not the healthy way to go, but I don’t care. I don’t like feeling bullied into what naturally and legally mine. 

With that, I fear a great deal of conversations I really don’t want to have to have coming my way, but what else am I do? I’m not good at this whole “pretend it’s no big deal and just never tell them” sort of thing. I’m no good a living two different lives. My mom said to me this morning, “there are certain things you just don’t share with people.” She was saying that in reflection of her lift by the way she was raised to not share private details. I started thinking about it and have come to the conclusion I don’t have this. There is something in my brain that doesn’t think to do that. I naturally share who I am without fear because I would rather you know my dirty deeds than pretend I’m a saint or something. I don’t know personal discretion in this way. 

One gem of information is that my mom, a soldier in her own father/daughter war, said “You must learn to be strong even if he doesn’t respond as we hope he will. You must realize that it will be him missing out and not about you failing.” Love her.

With that said, I shall develop my speech and gather my strong, positive attitude and carry on until Thursday. If, and only “if” I hear from him will I know. My mom may call me Friday and tell me what he had to say on the phone while out of town or I may not know until his birthday when I force myself to drive out to see them. 

I don’t want him to feel like he’s a bad dad, but realize that I’m sitting here asking for a “do over”. I don’t want to mull over the details of wrong vs. right, but point out that calling me a “bitch” is hurtful and supporting me in terms of “you can do it” is crucial.

50 Things You Mom Should Know

Okay, no…this post is not about “50 Things Your Mom Should Know” or maybe it is. I don’t know; I don’t know your mom so maybe this list will be something she needs to know. Your call.

In all truthfulness, this is a list of “50 Things I Like About Myself”. In a effort to improve my own reflective image I am going to do a little self praise. Before I start I would like to take this opportunity to thank God for all the follow gifts/great things. I wouldn’t be who I am without His hand. 

Here we go (in no particular order):

1. I appreciate all things, people, situations, settings and ponts of view. I think there is beauty in everything and that, though I may not agree with every thing or everyone, I appreciate them and what they have to offer.
2. I see the big picture. I’m constantly trying to figure out how it is going to play out in the big picture of life.
3. I set people high. When I first meet you I set you at the highest you can be. I believe you can do no wrong, are incapable of deceit and are perfect. It’s up to you whether or not you move up or down.
4. I’m brand/team loyal. I will hold on to a team/brand forever just because I can’t quit the team and will always push through the bad times.
5. I love humor. I would rather laugh than cry/think any day.
6. I’m a hard worker not because you deserve it but because my spirit won’t let me not be.
7. I’m strong in person, emotion, mind and spirit. Though often weak by life, I have a personal strength that even amazes myself sometimes. 
8. I love things from certain decades (late 1800’s-1970). I love the styles, the hair, the music, the movies…I love it all.
9. I love to be challenged beyond my own mind. I want things to be hard and really difficult so I can surpass them. 
10. I’m competitive. I’ve played sports, been in band, was in all sorts of social clubs and had various jobs. I love that I look for a competition.
11. I love that I have dark features. I’m not a partly blonde, partly brunette, but I’m dark brown. There’s no hair dye here, 100% naturally dark. Love it!
12. I have the gift of words. Sometimes this can be good or bad, but I love that my words are strong and can cut to the quick in arguments. 
13. I’m 100% honest. Even when I don’t want to be, I can’t lie.
14. I desire to do good for others rather than for myself. I want to help others and don’t care what I look like doing it. 
15. I love my excitement when I walk into a hospital. I physically, mentally and emotionally get excited.
16. I get so happy when it rains. It makes me come alive.
17. I don’t have to wear make-up all the time. I don’t always have to look nice. 
18. I know how to understand people quickly and call their card (personality type).
19. I waited until I was 21 to drink like an idiot.
20. I no longer want to smoke cigarettes!
21. I love classical music and how it makes me feel creative and relaxed all at the same time.
22. As much as I didn’t like it as I was going through it, I like that I’ve had an eating disorder. I know now what people go through in addiction and have sympathy that I never thought I would have for people I don’t know and do know.
23. I have confidence beyond my own understanding. 
24. I love music with a passion. I can’t make it, sing it or do anything but live through it.
25. I’m bold. 
26. I’m driven.
27. I love to cook. I love that I can actually cook, too!
28. I’m not afraid of confrontation.
29. I stand out.
30. I was Homecoming Queen my freshman year of high school. I actually tied with a girl that was very, very popular. I couldn’t believe it happened. I was a band dork with a quirky personality that was Homecoming Queen as a freshman. Weird.
31. I’ve been in love twice (David, Amy), been in lust/love twice (Taylor, Anna). 
32. I have a passion for London. I love everything UK!
33. Candy is my weakness and coffee is my air.
34. I’ve been a dreamer my whole life. I dream when I sleep. I day dream all the time. I use to play make-believe (sometimes still do) when I was a kid all the time. I loved living in the made up realms of my mind.
35. I would rather spend money on dinner with friends than drinks at a bar, movie tickets, theme park adventure or travel. 
36. When I actually workout, I can workout forever! I love being healthy (when I do it).
37. I am apart of Susan G. Komen because breast cancer took my Grandma.
38. I can not live without God.
39. I can handle Tequila.
40. Friendship is not something I’m looking to just check off a list. I’m always looking for depth in people and am not satisfied until I find it.
41. I’m a risk taker. Sure, certain risks I’m not able to do, but on the majority I like to jump.
42. I love to feel everything in my soul.
43. I’m better among a group of strangers than I am with people I know.
44. I move furniture around because I get tired of seeing things always the same.
45. I’m very, very self-aware.
46. I’m figuring out that life is a complicated, joyful mess that doesn’t always make you happy at 24.
47. I’m naturally social. Always have been, always will be.
48. Fall in love with the disadvantaged.
49. I graduated in four years without using a single credit. Not one credit was wasted.
50. Being nervous propels me forward versus making me want to hide.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Concert Uniform

Right now, I’m at work waiting for a event we’re hosting. We’re just sitting around waiting for the clock to move before we head over to our venue and start setting up. As I sit here, a co-worker refreshes her make-up, the other changes and one completes some work, I feel like I’m back in band. 

I’ve played the flute from 4th grade until I graduated from high school. I was apart of band all through out middle school and high school. I loved it often and hated it mostly. I hated having to practice sometimes and I hated having to get up early for marching band. More often than not I loved concert/performing time. I loved that feeling of your stomach in knots and your mind wraping over every note as to not mess up. Marching band I was never worried about. I didn’t care if I played or not, I just wanted to march. 

If you’ve never been in band or did even the marching side of it, you won’t really get the joy of it. Sure, Hollywood has painted kids in marching band to be nerds and socially awkward, but that’s far from it. In fact, more kids that were in the band were being elected Prom Queen/King, Homecoming Queen/King, StuCo President and top athletes. I hate to turn on the lights to my own markee, but I was Homecoming Queen and an athlete. Hell, I was even in Student Council. Ha! Take that Hollywood and your Lohan by products!

Anyways, I loved the bright lights, loud cheering and strong echo each note would make on the steel stands. Loved the pressure of “what if you fall” or “what if you miss a note”. What I loved more was the rush of being in front of people.

Ah! Got to go!

San Diego: Friday (MY LAST DAY)

Friday night was my last time to really see San Diego one more time. I had worked all week and barely got enough time to sleep let a lone see more of San Diego. On Friday night there was nothing stopping me from going out. I had a few ideas in mind: Ocean Beach or Downtown or San Diego’s PRIDE.

Earlier that morning, I had been getting my coffee from this guy for the past week. He mentioned to me this place called Winstons in OB that was a comedy club his friends worked at. He gave me some directions and his number if I wanted to meet them up. Now, up until that point I had been blessed with some very reliable/trustworthy people and this guy seemed alright. So, I put the idea in my pocket and went to work.

Later I spoke with Bridgida and she mentioned OB, too. At that point I was sold. At least I would have known someone and got to experience another place in San Diego. She told me about South Beach Bar and Grill and how they have the best fish tacos in all of San Diego. So, I got a cab and for the first time in my whole life at alone at the bar. It was a weird feeling. I know people do it, and when you’re traveling there’s not much choice, but I would perfer to at least have someone to talk to. Hell, when I was there I would have loved for these older guys talking next to me just to include me in their conversation a little. One of them asked me to watch their drink and I got all excited thinking I could someone how segway into a conversation with them, but no such luck. Any luck, the tacos were amazing. The fish was so good, I could have eaten just that.

I like OB. From what I understand OB is the last remaining spot of true San Diego. A hippi town built on small businesses and a lot of weed. It was great.

After South Beach B&G, I wondered down to Winstons to meet up with Andrew (the guy at my hotel). He was so high it wasn’t even funny, but he was a lot of fun. The comedy was okay, but it was cool to see some of these guys brave it all on small topics like drinking, guys stuff and girls. Plus, I didn’t really have to pay for anything. After some really good tequila and an offer to smoke out (which I turned down), Bridgida showed up. I love this girl-so much fun and plenty to talk about with. As we’re talking and I’m really enjoying my tequila buzz the club is slowly morphing into a reggae club. The group that was to go on stage was called “Vegitation“. They were all decked out in dreadlocks, beards and one in a hand made skirt. They’re skit featured set design with plants…lots of plants. We didn’t stay for their show, but did get to hear their opening act. I don’t remember his name, but he was a cross between Ben Harper and Ray LaMontagne only with dreads. He was really good.

After he was done, we called it a night. Bridgida showed me around Hillcrest (their gayborhood). They had so much going on because of PRIDE that weekend. Part of me was sad I didn’t get to experience any PRIDE with San Diego. It would have been awesome to see couples who were legally wed and what not. The PRIDE of it all would have been at an all time high. But, it worked out because it appeared to be predominately a boys town and they didn’t have much going on Friday.

I have to say going to OB and hanging out with Bridgida was an excellent way to say “goodbye” to San Diego. I love that city and need to plan a vacation soon! Next time I’m there, I hope it’s for holiday, NOT for business.

San Diego: Adventure Sunday

Alright, now time to write about my trip. I’ve been working slaving through the week getting less than six hours away from the office. It is beautiful here, though.

Sunday:

1. First, I’m must tell you about my plane ride. Typically I get vertigo easily on planes and will just want to look out the window, listen to music and not do anything else. However, that’s not what God had in store for me that day.I get to the airport (after circling the damn place several times trying to snag a good parking space that wouldn’t cost me $40 a day) late and am rushing to my gate. As soon as I sit down, they inform us the electricity was out on our bridge to the plane. We were told to line up according to group number and walk to the plane Hollywood style. I start realizing, with the additions of people carrying on more luggage, I could be screwed a spot to put my suitcase. So, I decided to cheat. Yes, I played the part of “that bitch” that cut in line. I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better I was nervous about it the whole time.As I walked up to the counter, where I witnessed her turn someone in the wrong group away, she smiled and I quickly got her talking. “How’s your day?”…”Oh, yeah? I totally understand that…”. She took my ticket and let me through. God, many blessings on her, please.After I walked to the plane, climbed through the back stairs (didn’t know that’s where stairs were kept: in the plane’s ass) and found my seat, I realized I didn’t have window like I was told I did. Now, this shouldn’t be a big deal, but for someone as motion sick as I am it’s a big deal. That window is my complete source of comfort, brain stability and vision-headache free. BUT, the person that did have the window seat was not there, so I sat down hoping they wouldn’t care or notice. As I became comfortable (suitcase perfectly above my seat versus in the front of the plane), she showed up. “Excuse me? Do you have the window seat?”she said. Dammit. I muddled a line of “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” as I stood up and moved out from the three-seat row. “Would you rather the window?”she said. I could have hugged her right then and there.As the plane was getting ready for take off, I had my XM Radio (by the way I kept that service) out waiting for the “go”. I forget now how it started, but we started talking. I kept thinking it would be a few minutes of conversation then she would pull out a magazine or something and I would carry on with my “brain protection plan”. Yeah…some how I couldn’t pull away. The words, “would you mind if I listened to my music for a while – I have bad vertigo and it helps.” were on my tongue, but I just couldn’t bring myself to say them. She had no magazine or THING to pull out of her bag and was completely engaged in conversation with me.As I kept practicing those words over and over in my head, I remembered something about how God brings you certain people into your life for reasons and often they can be found on airplanes. No, I didn’t read that any where and please don’t quote me on it, but I decided to go with it. I gave up the notion of headphones/music/brain rest and choose to remain engaged. Turns out, she was an AMAZING person to talk to.

   She was in her sixties, from Finland, a traveling nurse and going to San Diego to pet sit for her brother. We talked about books (she suggested the book Anatomy of the Spirit by Carolyn Myss that I will be reading later), pets, careers, my vertigo problem and life in general. One thing she said (among the many good things I wish I would have written down) as resonated with me since then. She said, “When you find yourself wanting to run away you have to turn around and face it. Once you face it, that part of fear/worry/doubt/whatever won’t travel with you. When you run away you take that weakness with you and it stays with you until you deal with it.”I paraphrased a little there, but I that idea/theory hadn’t stuck with me until her. I started thinking about all the things I’ve ran away from and how if I had turned and faced them I may not be working through those issues still. (Side Note: I had a defining moment while I was on this trip and it was the reason I am running away from my relationship with Amy was because I’m in love with her. This is a topic for another blog, but talk about a new discovery.)

   Another thing she said was, “You have to be truly honest with yourself. If you can be honest with yourself and exist in that honesty, you’ll begin to notice your body responding.” Her opinion was because the body and mind are not absent of each other, one reacts to the other. I’m sure there’s more I could go into on that one, but for now I like that quote of being honest with yourself. I’ve started to be 100% honest with myself and stop NOT facing things. Nice, huh?

   What was more amazing was that I didn’t have vertigo at any time on the plane. Though I was next to the window, by back basically faced it the whole time. I was sort of riding limo style with my head. It did hurt a little, but no vertigo! Good times #1.

2. After we landed, she and I parted our ways and I began to find myself in a whole new place. I haven’t traveled on my own in FOREVER and the last time I did anything for business someone was picking me up from the airport. As I reached the pick-up/drop-off deck, I started looking for this “shuttle” that the hotel’s website had mentioned. I call to confirm such shuttle and am told they do not have one. So, after waiting for cab in the wrong spot for about five minutes I found my way to the Taxi/Bus zone. I’m directed toward a cab ready to go and this guy drives me through the hills of San Diego. We do a little conversation exchange and he drops me off at my hotel.Since my flight was so early I couldn’t check in to my hotel until later that day. Good. I was needing to have a San Diego adventure and not being able to check in was pushing me out there to find it.After careful instruction from the hotel “local” shuttle guys on how to take the trolley to Gaslamp, then get to the ferry to Coronado for a beach day, I was off. The shuttle dropped me off at Old Town Station, I tumbled my way through the trolley system, paid for a ticket and jumped on the closest trolley. This was my first mistake. If you’ve ever ridden on the MTS Trolley System in San Diego, you would know there are four parts to the trolley: orange, red, blue and green. Red covers Old Town through Glaslamp (near downtown). Orange takes you from the Northeast side of the city to around downtown. Green takes you from Old Town north of where Orange starts. Blue will take you to downtown and Mexico. I knew I didn’t want to get on the blue.Turns out I jumped on the Red trolley heading the wrong way. Gasglamp was southwest and I jumped on it going Northeast. After I realized my mishap I decided to ride it out seeing how I had no real plans. It was kind of cool, actually, because I was able to see a lot of San Diego because of it. When the trolley system was about to head back I jumped off and jumped on the Orange trolley line to see some new scenery. What I didn’t realized until it was too late, was that the orange trolley line drove you through the ghetto. Seriously. There I sat, by my self, holding my Blackberry hoping no one would really notice me.After I we passed my Petco Park I arrived at Gaslamp. I jumped off into what seemed to be an Obama rally. Yes, there were t-shirt vedeors, button sellers, protesting for Obama and Pro-Life, and that Obama song played by a guy in a electric wheel chair. It was a site to see.I realized I didn’t know which way the peer was and I had to ask around. I only asked cops because A.) I felt safe with them and B.) they would know. I get a hold of this one guy who told me the peer was at least five miles away. Because I’m doing the whole 60 miles in one weekend thing, I took those five miles on. Through the Obama rally I started and after passing much of downtown I found the peer. A few blocks off I located the ferry booth selling rides over to Coronado Island. Did I tell you that while I’m walking I’m approached my a red-faced (sun burn) homeless guy with the story, “I just moved here from Flordia and I have nothing.” I didn’t have cash, so I told him to go toward the Obama rally and there were TONS of people.

   While I’m waiting in line for the ferry, I get sandwiched between to bicycle groups. They start talking about Electra bikes (which, I’ve researched them and want a cruiser), so I chime up. “Did you say you worked for Electra?” We exchanged a few words and I thought that was it. Little did I know these would soon become my beach day friends.

3. While riding the ferry over I sit next to this couple from the Electra bike story: Bridgida and Tim. We start talking, they give me a few pointers on what to do once at Coronado and then they ask if I wanted to ride one of their bikes with them over toward the beach. What?! At first, that really shy part of me thought, “no thanks, I would really hate to ruin your planned day together. Thanks for having pity on me,” but what I actually said was, “I don’t know; it would be an adventure.” Next thing I know I’m following Tim through the streets of Coronado while Bridgida rode the spokes of his bike.It was such a serial moment for me. First, I didn’t know where I was or where I was going and second I didn’t know these people. I was blindly following them into unknown waters in California. I kept telling myself, “please don’t fall off the bike. I know you haven’t ridden a bike in over 12 years, but please don’t fall off and have one of these cars run you over. That would be most unfortunate for them to deal with after being so nice to you.”We biked up to this little pizza joint and stopped to have lunch. If you EVER go to Coronado Island, please rent a bike and ride around. I could have done that every day. The weather is, of course, gorgeous and the area is just too cool. I would love to live there.After we ate lunch, got to know each other better, I realized these were some awesome people. Not only were they being generous with their bike and time, but they actually asked me to hang out with them. God, double bless them, please.

   We biked up to the Corinado hotel, had a few drinks, then lounged on the nicest sand I’ve experienced in the US. Mexico was better, but HELLO…it’s Mexico. Once we packed it up, I realized I was fighting the sun going down more than anything. Since I walked and took the trolley from my hotel, I had a while to go and didn’t want to do it in the dark.

   By the time we got back to the peer, we were exhausted. My skin was burnt (from the walk and the biking), my hair was plastered to my head and my body was tired. My ass hurt so much the next day from that 20 minute bike ride.

   Once we got back in San Diego, we exchanged numbers for a possible meet up mid-week and I was on my way. It felt so good knowing my way around downtown and on the trolley. I didn’t fear getting lost at all! That’s first for me; I’m always lost.

Isn’t that an amazing way to start my first visit to California?! I was so happy that all happened and that I got to do so much. Thanks God!

To view random pictures see: San Diego