hawt!

I just simply love this picture.  I think we look hawt!  Great date, great night, great memories. I have to keep posting these so when the list starts to overflow with all the things that I don't have, still want, or things I think I'll never become, I can remember that I have a lot of good things in my life.  Like a best friend who will sneak booze into a wedding with me and go bang on the door of the local taqueria until the smiling owner comes out to compliment us on our dresses.  We are just that kind of classy!!!

PS...I don't say this often about myself, but I really like how I look in this picture from head to toe.  The hard work is paying off.  I made it a bucket list item to look better at 30, 35, 40 than I had ever looked before.  I'm getting it done. It makes me proud to be me and those are moments I should always be proud to share.

day of prayer

Once again, I found myself stumbled upon an adventure. I had plans to go to Yeti Indian Restaurant in Glen Ellen, just outside of Sonoma.  Of three routes, I inadvertently landed upon the one that went through and up the hills of Santa Rosa.  A road that was not unfamiliar to me, but one that I didn't remember until I was a few miles into it.  Full of twists and hair pin turns, one way roads & one lane bridges, all of it covered by a canopy of trees.  The higher up we got, the bigger the trees, Redwoods to be exact.  It smelled incredible.  

A couple of wrong turns, but I eventually found the restarurant tucked back into an old wooden building off of Highway 12.  Just enough shade to make for a comfortable lunch, still enough warmth to make it a perfect Summer day in Northern California.  The outside patio had 5 tables above which there were Tibetan Prayer Flags draped across the outside patio area.

As I sat there under those flags, eating lunch catching up on life and love with my aunt and uncle, I received two requests.  One for my dear, sweet girl Catie who was not doing well, admitted into the ICU and struggling with the disease that had been trying to define her for so many years now.  The other from a friend and colleague from another city, "to my Police family, pray for us this week, as we go to Washington DC for the National Law Enforcement Memorial Service, you know what this means to us, it will be tough."

They say that the purpose of the prayer flags is that they will carry your prayers with the wind. They are meant to be strung on a windy day and are not taken down until they are to be retired.  They weather the elements, they get worn, and like life, they are here and then they are gone.  The old are not replaced entirely by the new, they are strung up next to each other until one is retired and the other takes it place.  They are meant to promote peace, compassion, strength, and wisdom.  While I don't subscribe to the mantras that they are founded on, I do believe in symbolism.  I believe in the message and reminder that of what they stand for. I believe in prayer.  I believe that while we cannot always see it working the way that we think want it to, while our prayers sometimes seem to feel like they fall on deaf ears, the power of prayer is not always in the end result.  It's in the process of being humble to pray, to have faith, to receive peace, and wisdom.  I believe that prayer changes us from the inside out.

it is well with my soul (my picture perfect weekend)

And so...it was that time again. Time to go a little North & then a little East. It was time to take a roadtrip. A long and overdue one to the mountains, where the air is cleaner, the trees are taller, the friends are more like family, and I can just be me. Clumsy, carefree, passionate, confused, heartbroken, happy, sad, hungry, tired, beautifully messily me. Few places in this world exist where that can happen. I treasure the places where that exists.

 Into the car I went...riding gear, snacks, CDs, a few changes of clothes, a good book, a head that needed some clearing and the sunroof back was just the way to get rid of all those thoughts that haunt me and do me no good. I always do my best thinking in the car. It is my refuge. It is one of those safe places that I cherish. It's just mine, I decide where we go together, it has always kept me safe, & it keeps my secrets too.

(He's not cheap, but he's dependable, and worth every dollar..& arm & leg! ouch!)

(the gear I packed: how dirty girls get it done)

(I arrived just in time for dinner and to make some of my new favorite Vegan Blueberry Lemon Chia Seed muffins for breakfast for the next few days)

(and then after a long drive and some dinner, the brightest full moon of the year wished us all a good night)

When we awoke, Sunday had come upon us......75* of sunny Sunday blissfulness. Waffles on the back porch turned into beers on the back porch before the crack of noon. We had a goal. Drink, talk, tan, do nothing else.

.....Shock Top (well the bottom of my bottle that is.  Which simply did not do...it was quickly replaced)

.....THE lawn.  I love this lawn.  The end.  You will soon know why.

.....the Couple I <3. I think this picture says it all. Gary & Patti met in wildland fire academy 20+ years ago. Much to the disdain of her nerves, he likes to clean up the property on the weekends. Her inner firefighter cannot be contained. He came up from the burn and grabbed an extinguisher, she followed (in flip flops) with a hose. I grabbed my phone/camera, cause calling for resources and documentation is what I do. I love this new picture of them. It about sums it up. I love their relationship. It gives me hope.

You can only drink so much before you get hungry, and there was pesto to be made. Two drunk women, one incorrigible food processor, and handful of ingredients = perfection. Recipes? Naw. Not this girl. Here's the cooking rule: find good ingredients that stand on their own, match them with ones that you like equally as much, put them together and see what happens. You can't go too horribly wrong. Oh, also...never trust a woman who cannot cook. You'll thank me for this later in life sometime. Trust me. Also trust me when I tell you that this roasted garlic pesto cheese bread can and will some day make for world peace. It.is.that.GOOD!!!

After we soaked up some booze with some bread, it was time for a ride. The dirty girl gear didn't make it in the back of the car for nothing!

I am merely a guest on the trails, which leaves me behind following and eating dust. I'll do it any day. I love to ride, I forget and then I always remember once I get back on my bike.

I risk loosing my phone/camera on rides for pictures like these alone. It was every bit as peaceful as it looks.

30 things: Day 11

Day 11 - post another picture of you and your friends.

We had matching tank tops.
We had Jell-O shots
We had an idea.
We had poster board.
It.was.the.perfect.day.
There is strength in numbers.
People in parking lots with coolers of alcohol are easily influenced.
People in parking lots will do just about anything for a Jell-O shot.



This day is what we affectionately call one of THE BEST DAYS EVER!!! Seriously, it was. Kenny Chesney & Co. at AT&T park in the Summertime. We were so much fun, the other fans in the parking lot thought we were hired by the show to make it a real tailgate party. I can honestly say that I don't think there will ever be another day like this, but damn it, I'm sure glad I was there for this one!

30 things: Day 10

Day 10- songs you listen to when you are happy, sad, bored, hyped, mad..

Yes, yet another list that I've been avoiding. There are just TOO many songs to list here. If you know anything about me, you know that I LOVE music. By music, I mean all of it, African Tribal music to Opera and everything in between. I don't think that the majority of people out there realize how all music is related on some level and how, we, as people, are related to music.

I caught myself trying to keep track of my blink rate yesterday early in the slow AM at work and then somehow, Pandora appeared on my computer. Literally, I don't remember clicking on it and *whoosh*, music to the rescue. Now, I'm laying on my couch for the 11th hour in a row, flipping the music channels on the TV from one without looking to see if I can still name the artist just on sound.

You see music is more than just noise for me. It's an experience. I can get lost in a song almost as easily as I can get lost in a warm hug or a feeling. There are a few songs out there that I would consider even better than a warm hug. Songs that have lyrics that envelop you and either make you feel vulnerable in the world or completely exposed. That's the true test of a good song. That's what our hippie parents felt in the 60's and 70's. Well that, and drugs, and probably each other and the person next to them. But either way, that rebellious music, that shit on the radio that put the issues out on the table and into the public conciseness, that's what made the Bible-thumpers throw vinyls into piles and burn them. Music has the ability to expose those parts of life that people just can't or don't want to deal with. I.love.that.

As easily as music can compel you forward, it can take you back:

+++ I DISTINCTLY remember sitting down in front of the 13 inch color TV in our living room that sat on the cheap, rickety, particle board TV console, my eyes glued to Madonna's Like a Prayer video, but not for long before my mother came screeching out of the other room yelling something about "secular music" and "turn this naked stuff off"!!! All of 8 years old, in 1989 when MTV played actual music videos, I knew I wanted to listen to more of that "stuff". Fast foward to Glee Season 1, circa 2010, I'm in the same living room but this time I'm the home owner and ain't no one chasing me off of singing this thing and dancing in around in my pajamas and singing into the remote.
+++ Mixed tapes...yes, the ones that you had to rewind back together with a freaking pencil. C&C Music Factory from Cousin Mike. He snuck it to me, I wore it out. I was still in single digits. I was an addict.
+++ Kenny G. (shame) It was one of the few approved non-secular music choices available in our house. I took what I could get. I rocked some Kenny G, believe you me. Despite the fact that that long haired hippie was probably single handedly responsible for some kind of sax-induced baby boom in the 90s because men everywhere were seducing their ladies with light jazz, in my house, it was approved music.
+++ I remember one of my first "holy shit I love this stuff" music moments. I was 11 and there was a radio in my bedroom which was horribly sponge painted green and white. It was Kris Kross "Jump"...the Mac Dad will make ya, jump, jump, Daddy Mac will make you, jump, jump..." Sign me up. I wanted MORE!
+++ My first two CD purchases for my personal-CD player (circa early 1990something and that thing was the size of a small dinner plate that skipped like a stone across the lake): The Eagles Hell Freezes Over Tour Live and Boyz II Men PhillHighHarmony. Shortly after that, Hootie and the Blowfish and Shania Twain. Seriously, 12, 13, 14 years old, this is what I listened to. I wanted to hear ALL of it. There's a H&B track that never grew up to be a single, but it was one of my favorite songs. I used to daydream in the dark about slow dancing and being in love. Funny thing is, it's a break up song.
+++ High school, boy bands emergeed but, OG Hip Hop ruled. None of this rapping bout nonsense BS that is happening these days. Dr Dre, Snoop Dogg, Tupac, Notorious B.I.G. Real shit!
+++ Fast forward to 18 and a Police Cadet of a couple of years in my mom's white Chevy Z71, listening to none other than this lil' DMX diddy acting like a fool who damn lost her mind, that song was bumping out of the car, me in the driver's seat, I hit the SLOW lane of a Monday afternoon commute time traffic scene already going 75MPH. By the time the Sergeant caught up with me, I was going 95. when he asked me how fast I was going, I knew better than to lie to a cop and mark down your actual speed..."at least 90 officer." "I paced you at 110, license and registration." For whatever reason, he didn't write me for 110 or for reckless driving and Glory Be! didn't tow my mom's car. To this day, I blame DMX.
+++ 20-something, I put $1000 worth of tickets on my credit card to take my dad, his friend, and my friend to see Andrea Bocelli Live. His microphone lost power mid show. He stopped, waited a few minutes, and then un-amplified, unsupported, accapella, he just sang. It was heavenly.
+++ 20-whatever, I found myself sitting at a Songwriters concert at the Luther Burbank Center in the Wine Country watching four guys with their four guitars sit around and jam like there was NO audience. Lyle Lovett, John Hiatt, Joe Ely, Guy Clark...classic song writers. I was easily the youngest person in the entire theater. John Hiatt was old enough to be my father, but I was totally in love with his voice.
+++ Two separate trips to Mexico + booze + friends + karaoke contests = a couple of contest wins for this girl. What did you sing, Lauren? This and this. Ever seen a white girl dressed up like Aretha Franklin. She looks a lot like Marie Osmond.
+++ Right now, as I type, there's a list of songs that I keep on my iphone, gathering a new title every few months when I hear a new song that makes me smile on the inside and day dream, in the dark, in the light, in the in between hours. I think you'll be able to figure out what this list is for. This one compels me forward, not back. Let It Be Me, When I Come To You, Lean on Me, Why Don't We Just Dance, No One, Only a Fool, Simply The Best, Can't Stop This Thing We Started, Could Not Ask For More, How Sweet It Is, Fall, Keep on Lovin' You, Marry Me
+++ I could go on, but this blog must have some kind of end in sight.

Music = my drugs of choice.

+++++

Just for shits and giggles, I categorized my musical tastes. I don't know if it worked out so well, but I did it none the less.

For roadtrips and warm, Summer nights with the windows down: Country (even if Carlsberg and J-Dahl hate it). My heart beats Country, I love Southern accents, I want to live on a ranch, no one ever got me a pony when I was a little girl, so I want a horse soon, and cowboys and those rugged country boys are just sexy. Ok, yeah, I listen to all the other stations too, but you'll find me moving back to Country more often than not.

For artistic inspiration: uhh, Rap, R&B, Hip Hop, Rock and freaking roll! Gimme a beat Mr DJ. What else can you say really? Move your hips, move your brain...

For nursing a bad day or general melancholy: John Mayer,or the plain ol' fashioned blues...Eric Clapton, BB King, Jonny Lang, Etta James, Muddy Waters, Bonnie Raitt...

For the concert experience: Hinder, Papa Roach, BuckCherry, Motley Crue, 7 Day Binge, the more tattoos, leather pants, and unconditioned hair the better.

I just can't pick a favorite artist, a favorite song, I just can't. I just won't. It would be like asking a Mama which of her babies she loves more. I refuse. I love them all, for different reasons, but I love them all.

So, when it comes down to it, my list of songs might be totally generic and it's just going to fall short of what music does and has done for me for 20+ years. Music is one of those things that is the heartbeat of my life.

Summer lovin'

Oh Summer, let me count the ways I love you:

I love that the Sun is down and it's still 79 degrees outside.
I love the smell of BBQs.
I love sundresses.
I love that soon it will be so hot that fashion will cave to comfort.
I love flip flops.
I love that it's hot enough that my tomatos will grow big and red and juicy.
I love that my backyard is my new favorite place to be.
I love that corn on the cob is $.20 a piece.
I love that everyone seems to be in a better mood because they are all getting more vitamin D.
I love that even though I'm not a kid and I don't have kids, the kids are happy to be out of school. I remember that feeling.
I love Memorial Day, 4th of July, and my birthday in the middle of June.
I love that having a porch in the Summer is reason enough to have a beer.
I love the beach.
I love that the rain is gone for now.
I love Summer concerts - they are good for my soul and my psyche.
I love that the downtown farmer's market and the corner lot produce stands are now open.
I love the smell of star jasmine and chlorine. Yes, together.
I love having a tan and a pedicure.
I love that this time of year you have to endure through Summer days, but the Summer nights make it all worth it.
I love that being warm on the outside makes me feel warm on the inside.

<3 <3 <3

Hello July

Today on the first day of your 2009, I celebrate you. I celebrate you with grilled veggies and slightly burnt chicken breasts. I celebrate you with a basket full of petunias that I just planted to hang off the back deck. I celebrate you with a cold glass of coke and rum while the breeze blows on me while I sit in my rocking patio chair in the backyard. Oh coke and rum, sometimes I celebrate you too much and then I can't find my pants. Oh pants, I'm over you, this summer, I vow to live in summer dresses because they're in and so Boho chic.

Oh July, you certianly are worth the fireworks you get from us all in the first week of your existence every year. Welcome, welcome...