Gigi's Chocolate Box

Finally Falling

2009-10-10T21:43:00.000-07:00

Despite what you may think, I attempt to enjoy every season in its turn. There's majesty and beauty in all of them. But deep down, I'm secretly wishing and waiting for fall to arrive. The countdown usually beings in January. I wish I were kidding but it's true. There's something more dramatic about the shift between summer and fall and I'm sure the months of anticipation only make the change that more apparent but it really is the most magical time of year.

For all of my life, Christmas has been my favorite holiday. And I imagine it will continue to be, especially since it's my birthday as well. But I have to admit, Halloween is really growing on me. I look forward to decorating for Halloween just as much as I do Christmas and the theatrical part of me relishes in the artistic liberties that Halloween allows one to take. I feel like it challenges me to be more creative and go beyond merely "decoration" to create a truly impressive atmosphere. While I'm not one for blood and gore, it's at Halloween that I appreciate what the power of suggestion can do to illicite an eerie sense of wonder with the world and the chance to look at it from a somewhat darker perspective.

While Halloween continues to rise in the ranks of my favor, it matters little whether it wins out or not. What matters most at this time of year is that it's all ahead of me. For me, the holiday season begins now and everything associated with it is a happy forethought. When one holiday is over, we simply move on to the next and the next and so on until the fateful dawn of January. But now, January seems so far away. Now is just the beginning.

This week was the beginning of many seasonal firsts:

The first time I wore a sweater.
The first urge to turn on the heater.
The first time I've closed my bedroom windows.
The first time I've worn socks.
The first pumpkin purchase.
The first bout of homesickness for Boston.
The first sighting of fallen leaves.

I hope for many more to come. Some of my favorite fall traditions are already planned and I anxiously look forward to them. But I do not wish for time to speed up. This time of year I have patience. Because before I know it, the leaves will be swept, the pies eaten and the gifts unwrapped and I will be faced with the woeful maladies of January yet again. For now, I want to savor each and every fall-filled moment.

A Week With TMP

2009-10-04T22:04:00.000-07:00

What a crazy week it's been. On Tuesday the Trey McIntyre Project began their week-long residency at the Orange County Performing Arts Center. For four days, this incredible dance company did pretty much everything under the sun that we could get them to from master classes to bus-ins to impromptu "spurban" performances throughout Orange County. We would show up unannounced at university campuses, shopping malls and outdoor markets where we would throw up a couple banners, press play on a boom box and the dancers would surprise passersby with a three-minute performance and then we would disappear. It was truly remarkable to see people's reactions and to be a part of something so unique.

The week ended with two incredible performances on the Center's mainstage. I was absolutely blown away by what I saw. Scarcely have I seen the work of a choreographer that has such depth and breadth and vision as Trey. I am convinced he can do most anything. He brings with him a wealth of artistry, a sense of humor, a profound intellect and an understanding of our generation that makes him unavoidably appealing. And his dancers were equal to every task he put before them, each with their own unique gift and personality. The TMP dancers have filled the ranks of our country's finest ballet troupes but their desire to be part of something new and innovative lead them to Trey. And I am grateful for their courage. They bring to life some of the most creative work I've seen in a very long time. I will never forget what I experienced this weekend.

I think what impresses me most though was the energy, drive, demeanor and creative vision of every member of this young troupe. It is what I want so badly to be a part of and what I hope can take root in my own workplace someday. Our short time with them was truly inspiring. And despite the long hours and overwhelming schedule, it's weeks like these that remind me how much I truly love my job.

A Trying Season

2009-09-24T22:14:00.000-07:00

They say there's a season for everything and this has certainly been a sad one.

I've spent many days of this past month sitting in a courtroom just yards away from the young man that hit Jason. Through trial arguments and photographs and witness testimony, I've relived Jason's death all over again. In more gruesome detail than I did the first time. I've seen a family wrestle with a depth of grief that is truly unimaginable. And I've watched another family lose their son for the next 15 years of his life.

It's a humbling thing to be witness to a moment that will change someone's life forever. And even more terrifying to be a part of it.

I have to say that nothing could have prepared me for this. And I'm not sure I'm happy about the role I played.

As much as I loved Jason and as devastated as I am by his absence, this trial offered little consolation to me. If anything, it made it worse. Jason's death was truly a tragedy. And the events of this past month haven't made his death any less tragic. Whether they sentenced this man for three years or eighty-five years, Jason is still gone and any sense of justice or restitution doesn't make me feel any better.

I know there has to be consequences for reckless behavior but I thought it was supposed to bring reason and healing to a situation. I feel like my heart has been hollowed out even further. I don't really know what I expected of all this but whatever it was, I didn't get it.

I've watched other, new tragedies unfold over the last few weeks and I have to wonder when it will end. These bastions of certainty that I've taken for granted for so many years are beginning to crumble around me and all I can do is watch.

I know that all this can be molded into something good but boy what a mess we're in right now. But seasons change. And that's the beauty of them.

Growing Weary

2009-07-02T21:50:00.000-07:00

When we're physically tired we rest. When we're emotionally tired we seek an escape. We can run from our jobs, our obligations and our relationships to find respite and return with new hope and commitment.

But what do you do when you grow weary of doing good? Where can you escape the call to virtue? Is there a moral vacation we are entitled to somewhere along the road?

Some claim such opportunities exist. Many seem to think you get a free pass during your college years to plummet into a moral tailspin in the name of "exploration and independence" aka "the search for oneself." Places like Vegas act as an ethical black hole that promises, however falsely, confidentiality and absolution as you leave. Are we allowed to make occasional visits to these debaucherous playgrounds when propriety is a weight we can longer bear?

I'm sure there are many who would disagree with me but I have to believe the answer is no. There have been so many times when I wished I felt otherwise but I can't escape the gnawing sense that the call to virtue is a consistent one.

I have watched friends go through some really heartbreaking phases of life lately and my own black and white world has become alarmingly gray. When your heart is so broken you wonder if it still exists or what once was so clear is now so cloudy it's easy to give up hope and take the path of least resistance. But I've found that it rarely serves us well. We usually end up in more trouble or deeper despair and our moral compass becomes weak and misleading.

As much as I may wish for a destination free of consequence, it does not exist. Our call to do good has no exemption or loophole. We will never rise to the occasion perfectly but we must not grow weary. It is an obligation judged not by the practicality of our success but the purity of our effort.

A Higher Perspective

2009-06-24T22:21:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how different the world seems when you're wearing high heels. I can't quite put my finger on it but it seems like they change everything - from the way I carry myself to the way people treat me. I walk out of the house ready to take on the world, feeling confident and more astute to other's reactions to my presence. When walking into work I feel like I'm taken more seriously. When in a store or coffee shop, I'm given quicker and more friendly service. I am consistently baffled at how much a pair of shoes can change the game. But whose perspective is really changed? Is it mine or everyone else's? I don't know if I'll ever be sure but I love how exhiliarting it is to add a little height to your day. It makes me wonder why I don't wear them everyday. I guess if I were consistently four inches higher I would appreciate the perspective a little less. For now, I'll keep me ego in check and my feet in less distress by bringing them out only when I need to up the ante.

Rules of Life

2009-06-21T17:43:00.000-07:00

I know it's been awhile. I don't know if it's just that I've been busy or incapable or out of ideas. But I'm back with a renewed commitment and new inspiration thanks to a new friend.

Gigi's Rules of Life Draft 1.0

1) Eat chocolate every day.
2) Give people the opportunity to surprise you. Every once in awhile they will.
3) Repay debts quickly.
4) Whatever you choose to do, do it well.
5) We are called to share God's love but He does the saving.
6) Find romance in the everyday stuff. It's the small moments that matter most.
7) Baked goods can heal almost any wound. For those they can't, learn to ask forgiveness.
8) Sensitivity and humility are great strengths not weaknesses.
9) Don't settle.
10) Never assume you're entitled to anything. Earn it.
11) When in doubt make a list.
12) Never trust a guy named Paco.
13) 80% of success is showing up.
14) Resist growing up. You have your whole life to be an adult.

I enjoy theme parks but I'm done with this rollercoaster.

2009-05-02T22:25:00.000-07:00

What a crazy couple months it's been. I've heard it said that life is what happens when you're busy making other plans. I'm always busy. I'm not sure I was making "other" plans. But life definitely happened. And I'm ready for things to calm down a bit.

Here's a quick recap for those that are interested:

Jason's accident. Followed by grief and sadness and month of ridiculous stress.
Beginning of great relationship. Enter hope and butterflies.
Managed to have a Christmas without the Nutcracker. Hooray!
Barely mangaed to celebrate in the midst of funerals and memorial services.
Decent New Year's. Decent = good in my book. Not a fan of New Year's.
Month of awkwardness at work.
Hate mail. Many nights of tears.
Recognition and praise at work.
Enter friend from the past. Now one of my very favorite people.
Salary cut and more co-workers pink slipped.
Beginning of craziest time of year at work.
Completion of catalog. Gold star!
Beginning of serious Showcase planning. Enter fear of recurrence of stress condition.
End of relationship. Yet another person not speaking to me.
Sleepless nights due to both extreme stress and sadness.
Friend in auto accident. Enter panic and crazy nightmares.
Dad gets a pink slip after 15 years.
Successful Showcase. Enter relief at work.
Now in desparate need of vacation. Scared to take one in case I find myself without a job.

It's been quite a rollercoaster over the last few months. And I'm ready to exit the vehicle. Generally I love to be in constant motion and hate not having anything to do, but I'd be quite happy to be bored for a little while.

Meet my financial advisor - Mr. Goodbar

2009-04-13T22:28:00.000-07:00

One of the many reasons I love candy. Thanks Beth!!

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/03/24/nyregion/24candy.html?_r=1&emc=eta1

The Perfect Storm

2009-03-11T21:11:00.000-07:00

So much is in the air - so much change, so much responsibility, so much uncertainty, so much promise - that you almost have to be in awe of the beauty behind the chaos. I feel like I'm juggling more balls than I can handle but I haven't actually dropped one yet so I'm fooled into thinking I might actually be successful. Or at least foolish enough to not give up.

But I fear that I'm on the brink of failure. And for the first time in a long time, I'm really scared. My life right now is like a perfect storm of potential and overwhelming responsibility. At the moment, I feel like I'm on the verge of silently drowning and the people on the sidelines have mistaken my flailing arms as waves instead of a cry for help. I have every hope that I will see the other side of this and be the stronger and wiser for it. But I'm praying for a lifeline in the time being.

25 Random Facts

2009-02-23T23:49:00.000-08:00

I don't do these often but the mood was right so here you go.

1. I've been in two beauty pageants. One actually was a scholarship competition. I didn't feel beautiful enough to be in either of them.

2. I met my very best friend in Kindergarten. I miss her every day.

3. I fell in love with dance at the age of four. It has been the most difficult relationship I have ever been in.

4. I tell people that I didn't actually have an eating disorder but I think I did.

5. I have a scar on my stomach that saved my life. I'm scared my future husband will think it's gross.

6. I can't remember the last day I didn't eat chocolate.

7. When I see elderly men in the grocery store, I always want to talk to them or ask them if I can help them. I never have.

8. I hate drinking anything with calories in it.

9. I eat Skittles and M&Ms in specific color combinations.

10. I secretly dream of being a fantastic drummer.

11. Most days I think I fit in better in Boston.

12. I will always regret not getting to attend my fourth year of college.

13. On my first birthday I threw up on my cake.

14. I'm almost never honest with people when I'm mad at them. I'm too afraid to hurt their feelings.

15. I've been a Christian my whole life. God is still one of the most mysterious things I have ever encountered. I hate not knowing the whys. Although I hope everyone experiences that kind of love at least once in their life.

16. I refused to eat breakfast until about high school.

17. My dad was injured and unemployed for two years when I was in Junior High. It was the greatest thing he ever did for me.

18. I work very hard but I don't always know what I'm working toward.

19. I've always wished that I had lived with my sisters when we were growing up. I would cry if they missed one of their weekends with us.

20. Fall is my very favorite time of year.

21. My roommate from college is one of my very favorite people in the whole world. Judging by my freshman year, I would've never guessed we would be friends. When I realized that she knew the choreography to Newsies, I knew I couldn't live without her.

22. I still sleep with a stuffed animal.

23. I usually go to a store at least three times before I buy something.

24. I want to be a writer someday. I'm afraid that I won't have anything important to say should the opportunity present itself.

25. I love my job even though it is overwhelming for me right now. I hope it is merely one of many careers I get to experience in my lifetime. I hope one of them is to own a candy store, bakery or ice cream parlor.

Candy Hearts

2009-02-17T22:29:00.000-08:00

As you are well aware, I'm a huge fan of pretty much anything with sugar in it, but I must admit, the candy hearts just don't do it for me. They're chalky, they're trite, they don't taste very good and they represent everything I hate about Valentine's Day. Yes, I know it's over but I'm running late to pretty much everything anymore so please forgive my tardiness.

There's always been something about Valentine's Day that really bothers me and I dread it almost every year. Am I supposed to buy a gift? If we're going out, what do I wear? Do I get a card? What do I say? There's a lot of pressure. And I usually crack under it. I feel awkward and clumsy and usually terribly unlike myself.

But I think what I resent most of all is that it's calendared. There seems to be this sense of obligation to feel a particular way or say a particular thing on that day of all days and it really stresses me out. The heart has no calendar and it isn't more or less inclined towards anything just because it's Valentines Day. Fancy gifts and fine dining have no meaning unless there's true sentiment behind them. If you love someone you should tell them when it's on your heart, not when cupids are hanging in store windows and candles are on the table. The most romantic moments are the most spontaneous and honest ones. It's saying the things that make you vulnerable because you just have to say them. It's saying too much too soon and putting all your cards on the table with no guarantees that your gamble will pay off. It's saying what you really mean exactly when you really mean it.

I spent Valentine's Day in the most ordinary of ways this year. I spent the afternoon working and the evening eating pizza and watching a very unromantic movie. But I spent it with the right guy. A guy that I could totally be myself with. A guy that I could be quiet with, laugh with and be completely lazy with. And that made it perfect. Last time I checked, that didn't come on a candy heart.

Deja Vu

2009-02-04T21:27:00.001-08:00

My relationship with dance over the last few years has been tenuous to say the least. I struggle to make it to class two times a week and I usually leave depressed and dejected. I can't make my body do what it used to and I feel like I disappoint myself every time I enter the studio. I sometimes wonder why I still go. I certainly am happy to not perform for awhile but there's this part of me that just can't walk away from it altogether. It's at those times that I realize my alternative is the gym and I just can't handle that.

Tonight, I'm not sure what happened, but for a few brief moments, I remembered why I loved dancing. For some reason, my body seemed to obey my brain and the pain subsided long enough for me to feel like I could fly and float again. It probably didn't look like much but it felt incredible.

I know I claim to hate dance sometimes, but it's really because I love it so much. No matter what side of the spectrum I may be on, I'm always passionate about it. They say the opposite of love isn't hate but indifference. I guess that goes to show that it still has a strong hold on my heart. As much as dance frustrates me sometimes, I love knowing that it still means something to me.

Letting Go

2009-01-23T23:44:00.000-08:00

When we were going through Jason's things, I was grateful that I got to hang on to one of his shirts. It's not one I have a particular memory of, but I can still smell him on it. I don't want to stick it in a drawer where it will be forgotten but I'm afraid if I wear it, I won't ever smell him again. Am I crazy to think that I could possibly hold on to that? Do I just wash it and move on and keep his memory around me as I wear it? I don't know why I'm having such a hard time with this but everytime I look at it, I'm paralyzed.

In some ways, I feel like I'm just beginning to realize the finality of it all. There's a certain amount of time that you can convince yourself that he's just on a really long vacation. Work is busy enough and I make a point to keep away from his desk and old photos. But then I come home and there's his shirt, begging me to consider which part of him I will hold on to...the smell or the sense of being close to him when wearing it. It's funny what things really strike you in grief. I wish the choice would be made for me. There's something really unnerving about being an active part of that process. It starts to take away the sense that you are a victim in all this and that you are participating in the tragedy.

Girl Genes

2009-01-20T22:28:00.001-08:00

On the outside, I’m pretty much as girly as they come. I love to wear pink and occasionally don a bow in my hair. I can quote from an extensive library of romantic comedies at the drop of a hat and getting a new dress is pretty much one of the most exciting things that can happen to me…aside from maybe a kiss from a cute boy. But yesterday was one of those days that seriously made me question if I was missing some sort of vital girl gene that every other girl on the planet seems to have in spades.

Here’s how it started.

A couple weeks ago I got a haircut from this fabulous new hairdresser and self-proclaimed new BFF named Cece. She was patient with me as I poorly described what kind of cut I would like and she made a noble attempt at interpreting my instructions while praising me for my virgin hair. We were fast friends. The cut she gave me was fantastic – the perfect blend of what I wanted combined with a few executive decisions of her own because, let's be honest, she knows what my hair can do much better than I.

Then came the overwhelming part. After she was finished, I was told that I could never use hairspray again. Cue dramatic music. Hairspray - an item that has been a staple in my life since before I entered Kindergarten. I tried not to panic. But really?!?! How is one supposed to live without hairspray? Thankfully she had other suggestions - a lot of them. I decided I needed to table my skepticism and accept that she was more educated on the matter than I would ever care to be.

So, with a sense of adventure and the humble realization that I know nothing about styling my own hair, I dragged my mom to Ulta in search of these holy grails of hair care products. The sheer volume of merchandise inside this store is enough to discourage even the valiant, but I was committed and thus an hour-long journey began. I searched through aisles and aisles of bottles and jars in every shape, size and color you can imagine. At one point, I even found my own mother pacing in a corner mumbling to herself. But rest assured, we emerged victorious with Cece-approved products in hand and an eagerness to explore a hairspray-free world.

Enter yesterday morning.
The moment of truth.
The hour of reckoning.
The point at which my girlhood was laid on the line.
A day that will live in infamy.

Need I elaborate on my lack of success? It was awful. There were bottles and cans and jars of product everywhere. My hair was curling in ways that I didn’t ask it to. Attempts to make it behave made it even more unruly. It looked wet even though it had been dried. And there was the frightening aroma of burnt feathers in the air. I looked like a sad, 80s rock star wannabe with hair so limp it kept me from making even the one hit wonder list.

I seriously considered jumping in the shower and starting all over. Then I looked at the clock. I was supposed to be on my way to work already but exiting the house looking like I did was not an option. I didn’t do justice to myself or the members of Flock of Seagulls. So I stuck my head under the sink in a final attempt at salvaging my dignity. With Pureology on my right and forbidden hair spray on my left, I was able to rescue myself from what very well could have been the worst hair day ever. I didn’t look perfect. But at least I looked like myself and that’s all I could’ve asked for in that moment.

Needless to say, I was a little late to work but that’s the silver lining of having a Mo for a boss. A bad hair day not only constitutes a personal emergency but a national crisis. If I had come in looking like I did just ten minutes earlier, he would have sent me home or asked me to wear a bag over my head. God bless him!

In the end, all was well. My hair looked decent and my tardiness was forgiven. But I think what frightened me most was my inability to work the simple tools that every girl seems to wield on a regular basis. When it comes to hair, I feel like a disgrace to the female gender. I have a repertoire of 2.5 hairstyles (the .5 is for one I know how to do but don’t really like that much) which I fear the universe is beyond tired of seeing. What’s wrong with me? Most women seem to have this innate ability to mold and shape their hair according to the occasion or the weather. Me? I’ve got two options. Neither of which excite me all that much. I panic in the event of special occasions. Special hairdo? Not so much. It's just not in my genetic coding.

So although I may appear to have the girl thing down, please know that the pink shirt and ballet lessons are merely overcompensating for the fact that I can barely do my own hair and makeup. I hope it's a recessive trait that my daughter gets. I fear for her if she has to learn this stuff from me.

The Christmas That Almost Wasn't

2008-12-26T23:54:00.000-08:00

I thought about skipping Christmas and my birthday this year. There just didn't seem to be much to celebrate.

A month ago, I had been counting down the days, carefully planning holiday crafts, shopping lists and at least four weeks of festivities. I was finally Nutcracker-free and was ready to enjoy every moment of the holidays I had been previously denied under performing contracts for the last twenty years of my life. It was going to be the best Christmas of my life.

About four or five weeks ago a friend of mine asked me, "do you feel like you need your life to change in some way?" My answer was no. My life was comfortable and change was scary. Over the last three weeks, every aspect of my life has changed in the scariest way possible.

Losing Jason changed everything. Christmas didn't seem important anymore. Nor did work or dance or all the activities that I thought made up my life. My heart was shattered and I felt lost.

I know they say that "time heals all wounds," but I'm not sure that I want this one to heal. As the grief settles in, I begin to see the good that God does in the midst of it. Young relationships have been made stronger, old ones have proven their worth and love has flooded through every aspect of my life. Although I'm heartbroken over the circumstances, I am so grateful for what I've discovered in those that I'm surrounded by.

The Christmas season did eventually begin for me this year, but not until the 19th. On that Friday, hope returned. As I was surrounded by three of my closest friends, the hole in my heart felt a little less hollow. Although the wound will never heal, it gave me a greater apprecation for what I've been given and the humble hope of the gifts to come.

This Christmas was nothing I thought it would be, but it's still the best one I've yet to experience. It had nothing to do with the perfect gift or the greatest party, but the depth of love in the family and friends I'm so lucky to have. It was exactly what Christmas is supposed to be.

Jason

2008-12-17T21:22:00.000-08:00

Sometimes there are no words that you can say or can be said to you. On the 6th of this month, one of my best friends, who also happened to be my boss, died in a car accident.

I am heartbroken.

And my life will never be the same again.

I miss you Jason. You have no idea how much I loved you.

Thanksgiving - An Ode to Carbs

2008-11-28T20:22:00.000-08:00

Let me preface this by saying that Thanksgiving is about much more than just the food so before you accuse of me of being overly shallow, please note that this blog focuses merely on the meal.

Thanksgiving dinner is probably the most decadent meal I eat all year and I spent a lot of time yesterday trying to discover what it was that I loved about it so much. A lot of people love the turkey or the cranberry sauce or a favorite pie. Many have mentioned the famed "green bean casserole" which to me is still a mystery. I don't think I've ever had it and I think I prefer it that way. But what I love most about Thanksgiving dinner is the massive amounts of carbs: the mashed potatoes, the stuffing, and my aunt's amazing dinner rolls. The turkey and vegetables are merely there to add balance and a splash of color to the heaping piles of starches. Let's face it, I have a reverse sort of Atkins diet going on.

But the truly great thing about Thanksgiving at my house is that dessert constitutes its own meal. We usually have dinner around two in the afternoon so that our evening meal consists entirely of a delicious variety of baked goods. My mom and I spent a week creating the extravangaza of sugar that blessed our table yesterday evening. I think I had three helpings this year. It was glorious. I wish life could always be that grand. (Those that know me know I have a habit of having dessert for dinner on probably a weekly basis, but I feel less ashamed of it on Thanksgiving.)

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday and that your dessert course was bountiful!

No Offense Tchaicovsky

2008-11-19T21:58:00.000-08:00

I have to say it's pretty hilarious that most of the closest people in my life have been conditioned to fly into full-fledged panic anytime a note from the Nutcracker Suite touches their ears. The score, though beautiful, has been known to throw me into fits of rage, especially the Sugar Plum variation or the Waltz of the Flowers. My boss has it on his ipod and even when it comes on when he's at home alone, he leaps over furniture to quickly change it to another song.

There was a time in my life, when I considered Tchaicovsky's masterpiece magical. It was an exciting time of year for me. It signaled new dance opportunities and the beginning of the holiday season which I had been anticipating since January 1st. (I know I'm a dork.) Nutcracker auditions were usually in September and it was always thrilling to find out what new part I would get to play that year. The years I got to play Clara were pivotal for me and I enjoyed the experience immensely. Hearing those lovely notes would transport me to another world. One that I longed to share with audiences in a new way each and every year. That was in high school. For eleven Nutcrackers, I saw my dancing grow and mature as I was given bigger and better parts. My senior year I played the Sugar Plum Fairy. From there, there was no where to go but down.

Fast forward a few years. Around Nutcrackers thirteen and fourteen I started to play the same parts over and over again: Dewdrop, Merlitons, Snow, Petals. It never changed. Around Nutcracker fifteen I started to crack. Sixteen was met with bitterness and a sense of obligation. During Nutcracker seventeen, I sold my soul for the money. I wanted to be anywhere but in rehearsal. My friends were celebrating and shopping while I spent countless hours in a studio or theatre. I even had a show on Christmas Eve. I hated it with every fiber of my being. I was miserable, sleep deprived and extremely short tempered. My boss even threatened to fire me if I ever did another Nutcracker. But I had a car loan to pay off. And so I danced...joylessly and with a depressing lack of the wonder and inspiration that I used to live for.

I'm happy to say that as of today, the only times I have heard the Nutcracker score this calendar year were the few moments that my boss was daring enough to play it on purpose just to spite me. Rest assured, he was assaulted with highlighters within seconds of it's recognition.

I wish I could say I missed it, but I really don't. I do miss my friends and the crazy things we would do in between shows or during long rehearsals but I am so relieved to actually be able to celebrate the holidays.

Maybe I will miss it next year.

Or the year after. We'll play it by ear.

Witnessing Catastrophe

2008-11-16T22:25:00.000-08:00

It's been quite a weekend. I went to work Friday morning with plans for only Friday evening. The rest of the weekend was entirely clear to do whatever I wished. I had considered plenty of options but was relishing in the fact that I was almost completely uncommited to anything.

And then the first disaster struck. A very good friend of mine went to the emergency room with a recurrence of appendicitis. I hadn't heard much when I left work that afternoon so I went home to work out and half way through I got a call that he was waiting to be transferred and I was needed to help get his car home. I jumped off the treadmill, got a ride to the hospital, got his car from the valet, drove it to his house, got a ride back home, changed, drove to the performing arts center and was walking in to see the ballet that night in less than an hour and a half. That has to be some kind of girl record. When I got out of the ballet, he was still waiting for surgery so I went home and passed out.

Saturday morning I woke up with plans to visit him as he was recovering in the hospital. Funnily enough, they transferred him to the very same hospital where I had my appendix removed many years ago. I was sitting at the kitchen table eating my toast when the phone rang. I never pick up the house phone so I continued eating and poking around on the internet. The answer machine picked up and then I heard my sister's voice. She was being evacuated. Her housing community was on fire and her, her husband and the kids were in a Coco's parking lot waiting to see the fate that would befall their home.

OMG!

I called her back. They were ok but definitely on edge. I kept it brief, offered them the house if they needed somewhere to go and let her get back to helping her neighbors. Then I realized that my elderly grandmother lives alone just on the other side of the freeway from her. I called my sister back but no answer. I called my grandma and thankfully she picked up. After several minutes of yelling into the phone to establish both who I was and what was happening to my sister I realized that she had no idea that less than a mile from her there were homes catching on fire. Apparently there was no threat to her neighborhood though so she let me know that my sister was welcome at her house and continued to chat a little longer. Anxious about my sister's fate, I tried to excuse myself and hung up the phone.

I sat paralyzed for a few minutes not knowing what to do. Do I go out there and help? Are the freeways even open? Do I go to the hospital? I checked the internet. The Corona fire wasn't being reported online or on TV yet. I called a good friend of mine for advice. After talking to him I decided to call my other sister. She assured me that they all were fine and that there was nothing I could do at the moment.

I got dressed and was about to leave the house for the hospital when I got a call from my aunt. She was in Corona as well. The RV park she was staying at was evacuated and she was staying in the area to help my sister or my grandma if need be. I felt considerably better at this point. Both of my parents were out of town so I did my best to keep them informed. In the process my dad learned to text message. I was so proud.

I got to the hospital and my friend was doing well. I spent the afternoon and early evening there just hanging out. I left for a short while to get some lunch and it was a little chaotic out there - smoke everywhere, the freeways packed. I decided the hospital was a much better place to spend the day.

By the end of the evening, my friend was sleepy but recovering and it looked like he would be released the following day. Several phone calls and text messages later it looked like my sister was still safe and her house still standing although they did lose a few trees in their backyard. Amazing!! A few of her neighbors lost their homes completely. It was so surreal.

So here I am on Sunday evening realizing that despite the calamity that struck all those around me, I still didn't really do anything this weekend (aside from finishing the third Harry Potter). It's so hard to hear of the strife your friends and family are facing and not be able to do anything tangible for them. But I am so grateful that they are all back home, feeling better than when they left it and that they have homes to go to. Considering the circumstances, it wasn't a bad end to a weekend.

Thank God the Chickens Are Free

2008-11-06T20:48:00.000-08:00

I have to say I’m pretty bummed out by a lot of the outcomes of this election. In general, I’m supportive of the idea of democracy. That we all get a say in what happens to us and the nation we live in is a powerful thing. That we shape the environment for future generations is a humbling and awesome responsibility.

But I begin to wonder, how many people take that responsibility seriously? When candidates are placing ads in video games and on myspace and dazzling us with a killer smile and polished orations, I have to ask: Are we making our decisions based on subliminal messages and spin-doctored responses? Do we buy into charm and eloquence or real content and value? It’s hard to tell anymore.

I had a hard time getting to the bottom of a lot of issues this election. I feel like we’re so rarely fed the truth anymore that it’s nearly impossible to make informed decisions. Or the truth that we are given is presented in such disguised packaging that we don’t know what we have when we have it. I felt that the only responsible thing to do in regards to several ballot measures was to abstain from voting. I do my best to research the issues, discover a candidates character and understand the long term impact of propositions, but there were a few where I felt it was impossible to tell.

Do my fellow Americans approach their ballots with the same integrity? I’m sure many of them do. But I come from a very apathetic generation. A generation that had higher voter turnout this election than any other. I wonder what time they put into researching the issues? Or did they make their decisions with only their own self-interest in mind based on the text messages they received, myspace bulletins and whatever adds popped up between episodes of Gossip Girl and The Hills? If they are, then democracy can be a very frightening thing. I fear that all of us run the risk of being lambs led to the slaughter if we don’t take the weight of our one vote seriously and put some real mental effort behind it. I guess time will tell.

I realize the alternatives to democracy could be much worse so I don’t mean to sound like I’m whining. I would rather live here, under this government than almost anywhere else. But it’s an imperfect system and the reality of that bums me out at times. Of all the propositions Californians had to vote on, they seemed to care about prop 2 the most. We’re building a train we can’t afford and teenagers can continue to get abortions without the guidance of the adults that care about their well-being most but thank God the chickens are free!

Halloween Movie Survival Guide

2008-11-01T22:59:00.000-07:00

This is actually an old one from my myspace page but I thought I would revisit it here. I haven't been as disciplined in my movie viewing this year but there's still time. Even though October is gone, Halloween still lives on.

1. Always be in the company of someone bigger, stronger and handier with weapons than you are. Self-reliance is overrated.

2. Pay attention to your pets. Animals always know when something is up.

3. Stop babysitting. Children are rarely targets of mass murderers. They'd be better off on their own.

4. If you're concerned about a friend, call the police. Never attempt to investigate a potential murder yourself. Trust me, your private investigating skills are not as strong as you think.

5. Check the backseat of your car before getting in. Thoroughly.

6. NEVER assume someone is dead unless there's a tag on their toe and rigormortis has set in. Even then, continue to keep your distance.

7. Learn how to fashion weapons out of everyday objects: knitting needles, wire hangers, keys, fireplace pokers. You get the picture.

8. Women, get this through your head - stalking is not charming.

9. Always, always, always make sure you have your keys before leaving the house.

10. Whatever happens, run. Don't look back. Just flee! Seriously.

American Eagle's Response

2008-10-22T18:02:00.001-07:00

Really Kara?! That's it?! Surely my letter had to evoke a more creative response than that.

I'm so disappointed.

Don't you just love fall?!

2008-10-11T23:22:00.000-07:00

October is my favorite month of the year and today was an especially pivotal day. Today, it finally felt like fall. Although I anticipate fall all summer long and in many ways, fall has already begun (see previous blog about pumpkin scones at Starbucks), today was the day that the weather finally decided to comply. It's been unseasonably hot the last few weeks until this morning. When I woke up it was bright and sunny outside but sweatshirts were in order, the wind was blowing, my nose was running, the leaves were changing and my heart was happy. After pancakes with my dad and some shopping, I spent the afternoon curled up inside reading. It was heavenly!

I spend January through early September looking forward to this time of year. I love the change of weather, the chance to wear sweaters again, snuggling close to friends and loved ones and the prospect of sitting next to a roaring fire. Everything changes in fall: the fashion, the decor, the leaves, the smell in the air. It's exhilirating. But what I love most is the beginning of the holiday season. While Christmas is hands down my favorite holiday, especially since it's my birthday as well, I also love Halloween. But what I love most is knowing that it's all ahead of me. Months of deocrating, celebrating, partying, crafting and gift giving await.

In an attempt to help you embrace the season (or further your embrace), below is a list of some of my favorite fall traditions. I hope you enjoy a few of them as you celebrate this magical time of year.

Apple picking - Oak Glenn and Julian, CA have excellent options

Pumpkin carving

Halloweentime at Disneyland - The beginning of Haunted Holidays at the Haunted Mansion!

Roger's Gardens - If you've never been before I strongly encourage you to check it out. Their Halloween displays are amazing. Plus, there are pumpkins of all shapes and sizes everywhere!

Scary stories - I usually read selections of Poe throughout the month. This year I'm beginning a foray into Harry Potter (I realize I'm a little late in jumping on the bandwagon).

The Nightmare Before Christmas - The perfect transitional piece. Disney has recently begun releasing the 3-D version in the theaters. If you can find it, it's well worth the movie ticket.

Halloween Haunt at Knott's Scary Farm - It's intense but by the end of the night, I'm a fan.

Boston College football games

Fall Day - More to come on this later.

Scary movies by candlelight - A recommendation list is in the works.

And of course plenty of trick or treating candy to pilfer!

Even some of my favorite ordinary hobbies take on new elements in fall - baking, shopping, candy making, decorating. I seem to rediscover the textures, flavors and colors every year as if they were brand new.

I'm not sure why but watching You've Got Mail is one of my most treasured fall traditions. Near the very beginning, Tom Hanks says something that I will remember my whole life long that I stole for the title of this blog. He says, "Don't you just love New York in the fall?! It makes me want to buy school supplies. If I knew your name and address, I would send you a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils." I've always loved that! I was fortunate enough to have a mother that sent me just such a bouquet when I was away at school. I hope I get to marry someone with that kind of romantic sensibility. It's not flashy or cliche, just incredibly thoughtful and charming.

Anyway, that quote, while I love it, reminds me of the only bittersweet thing about fall. This time of year makes me ache to be back on the East Coast and every October I always consider moving back. There's nothing quite like experiencing the seasons back there and there's no one quite like my college roommate Beth to celebrate them with. I miss her oh so much! When the distance between us seems so far, at least I know that her spirit is close and we bring the coasts a little bit closer together during this most wondrous of seasons.

Strongly Worded Letter

2008-09-30T22:59:00.001-07:00

For those of you that know me, I constantly refer to the "strongly worded letter" as the greatest recourse of action when discovering you've been wronged. This is merely the first of many.

Secret Agent Man

2008-09-22T22:39:00.000-07:00

When I was in college, I decided I wanted to be a CIA agent. Seriously!! Inspired by Julia Stiles' character in the Bourne movies, I was going to be stationed in Moscow as an undercover ballerina. Just think of all the amazing gadgets they could hide in a tutu and pointe shoes!! Never mind that I didn't speak Russian. Or can't bluff without giggling. I wanted to be an analyst a la Jack Ryan - the kind of agent that put the pieces of the puzzle together but never really had to wield a weapon.

I was pretty intent on it too. I even went so far as to download an application which in college is fairly proactive. I talked to a few family friends about their experiences and where they thought I might fight in. They didn't seem as interested in my classical ballet training as I had hoped but my uncle was convinced he could get me into the Navy's special operations unit. It didn't hold the same glamour that the CIA did though.

After further investigation of the agency's application I decided to put it off for a little while. I was afraid that "I have a face that would let me get away with anything" wasn't a strong enough platform for my candidacy. I continued to toy with the idea for another year or so but a lack of finances forced me to push up my graduation date and I was overwhelmed with school work.

Then 9/11 happened. The CIA has been flooded with applications ever since. Damn terrorists killed my dream!! Russia's safe...for now.

Gullible is not in the dictionary

2008-09-15T22:26:00.000-07:00

A few weekends ago some friends and I headed out to the Sierra Nevadas to spend the weekend at Shaver Lake near Fresno. It was incredible! I went wakeboarding for the first time, hung out, went swimming, ate a lot of tasty food and within two days managed to establish myself as the most gullible person alive.

It all started with a ghost story. That I requested. The cabin we were staying in ran off of a generator so at night it was lights out and candles lit. The circumstances were just begging for a ghost story. In my excitement, I neglected to recall that I really get freaked out and usually have nightmares. That reality suspended, I encouraged Jason (our host and my boss) to tell the story he had offered the night before but we were too tired to embrace. He stalled for a little while, but in typical fashion, I egged him on. He feigned shyness which I should have picked up on since he's a performer and a bit of an attention whore (clue 1). He claimed he didn't know any good ghost stories. But with all eyes on him and nowhere to retreat, he finally offered a "true story of something that happened to me as a child" (clue 2).

The story began as we all cuddled up on the couches and in our sleeping bags. There were some dramatic moments but I continued to remain calm as I layed on the ground next to him. Then the story took a turn. A childhood friend of his disappeared during a hunting trip only to be found dead three days later. I bolted upright with a serious sense of concern for Jason's loss. He began to tear up and pause throughout the rest of the story (what a drama queen - and clue number 3). The story got more dramatic as there's suspicion of foul play in his friend's death. Jason started to pause more and more and he seemed to be struggling for words (clue 4). Things got even more intense when his friend's brother dies in a hit and run after he begins investigating his brother's death. (Doesn't this sound like an episode of NCIS? - clue 5).

As Jason continued, his father came in from outside. As he walked past us into the bedroom, he looked at Jason and said, "you realize it was around this time of year, right?" Jason responded, "yeah, thanks Dad!" and started to cry. I was totally and utterly invested. I could already see the end of the story and was absolutely terrified. His friend's murderer was coming after Jason (I can't believe I don't see where this is going!!) and I began to panic. That weekend was the 10 year anniversary of his friend's death and the five year anniversary of his friend's brother's death (clue 6). As I became more frightened, I started to realize that I am sleeping alone that night under a window. That does not lock. There are no lights. And I am defenseless. Jason's story ended with him looking up at one of the windows and saying, "and this weekend...he may...OH MY GOSH!! THERE HE IS!!!! " and I shrieked like you wouldn't believe. I jumped and cowered like a sad little girl, my heart beating a million times a minute. I think I may have even cried a little bit.

Rest assured dear readers that I did realize that the story was a fake...eventually. But I was still so anxious that I had to convince Jason to sleep in the living room with me that night so I didn't have a panic attack in my sleep. And so that on the off chance his story was true, the killer would find who he was looking for and not kill me by mistake. (Jason I love you but that's what you get for scaring me like that!)

I managed to make it through the night and the daylight brought peace to my soul and my pulse down to a normal rate. But trust me, that wasn't the end of my gullibility. On a hike that next morning I fully believed that I was walking through an area that was used to film both an epsiode of the Twilight Zone and was the scene of the ewok village in Star Wars. It wasn't until I heard snickering behind me that I realized I had once again been fooled. Sometimes, I make myself sad.

The moral of this story is - book smarts don't equal street smarts. I pray that God gives me a husband that can save me from myself.

In the end though, I don't know that being gullible is such a terrible thing. Aside from entertaining my friends, I think it adds to my optimism and sense of wonder. When I watch movies or read a great story, I totally buy it. I get wrapped up in the worlds they create and am totally invested in the journey they are taking me on. I don't know that I want to lose that. I think you have to be a little gullible to be a romantic. I feel bad for those that live the alternative.

What I aspire to

2008-09-08T22:55:00.000-07:00

“I prefer to regard a dessert as I would imagine the perfect woman: subtle, a little bittersweet, not blowsy and extrovert. Delicately made up, not highly rouged. Holding back, not exposing everything and, of course, with a flavor that lasts.” - Graham Kerr

FYI

2008-09-07T11:08:00.001-07:00

There is nothing funny about New Mexico.

Incompetence

2008-09-07T01:17:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I went to LA for the day which was absolutely wonderful. I ate insanely greasy food at Pink's, ate even more at Diddy Riese's, went shopping on Melrose and at the Grove, discovered this amazing store called Johnny Cupcakes (see my blog list for his blog) and went to a show at one of my favorite outdoor locations - the Hollywood Bowl. The day was fairly close to perfect and an ideal way to close out the summer. That is, until the very end.

Prior to getting to the Hollywood Bowl, I parked at Hollywood and Highland to avoid the ridiculous stacked parking that the Bowl insists on providing and to provide my waistline with some much needed exercise after the 4,000 calories I had previously injested. I hike to the Bowl and enjoy the concert. Satisfied and a little bit tired, I head back to my car. Twenty minutes later as I finally approach the level my car was on, I start to dig for my car keys. And dig. And dig. And dig. My purse is not that big so this alone was an impressive feat. I dump the contents of my purse on the ground and after discovering some earrings I forgot I owned and reminiscing over the 24 or so tickets stubs I found, I come to the tragic conclusion that my keys are indeed lost. I knew I had them when I was at the Bowl so they are either still there or they fell out somewhere along the route back to Hollywood and Highland.

Slight panic begins to set in. I consider my options. Reevaluate my faith in humanity. Curse myself for not checking for my keys before I left the Bowl and decide that the next logical step is to hike back to the Bowl. Ugh.

So I hike back to the Hollywood Bowl checking every gutter and crevice all the way there. Tired, out of breath and slightly nervous, I ask a staff member if there's a lost and found. There is. Hope is rising. I find my way to the lost and found and discover four employees hanging out. I address a girl about my age that's sitting just behind the counter.

Me: "Has anyone turned in a set of car keys?"

Her: "What kind?"

Me: "Jeep."

Her: Momentarily blank stare.

Me: Breathless anticipation.

Her: "No. We haven't had our last drop off of the night though. We had someone turn in a key but it wasn't for a Jeep."

Me: Crestfallen. Actual panic begins to set in. "Can I take a look at my seat?"

Another employee: "Sure. What section were you sitting in?"

Me: "H."

Employee: "They shouldn't have cleared that section yet."

So I head to the seat I had pleasently spent the last two and a half hours in, however this time, it doesn't have quite the same appeal. There are no wine glasses clinking. There's no orchestra warming up. There are no LA socialites trying to impress each other with witty and cultured conversation. Instead there is trash and crickets everywhere.

After spending a good twenty minutes checking my seat and its surrounding area, digging through trash and retracing every step I had taken while at the Bowl, I am forced to realize that my hope had died and my faith in humanity was as misplaced as the object I was now done searching for. My key was gone. I had two options: call my dad and have him drive all the way up to LA with my spare key or take a cab home and have him drive me and said spare key up in the morning. Neither option appealed to me.

In the interest of stalling on making a decision, I went back to the lost and found office to give them my name and number in case my key turned up. This time there were only two girls left, both of which had been involved in my first panicked encounter.

Me: "Can I leave my name and number in case my key turns up?"

Girl 1: "Sure."

Girl 2: "Are you sure it was a Jeep?"

Me: "Yep." as I ponder how many times they've encountered people who were confused about what kind of car they drove.

Girl 2: "Are you sure it wasn't a Durango?"

Me: "Yes." baffled at the idea that she still doesn't believe I know what kind of car I drive.

Girl 2: "Because we had someone turn in a key for a Durango."

As appealing as the idea is of once again possessing a car key is, I decide that theft is not an option.

Me: "Well, unfortunately, I drive a Jeep." unsuccessfully trying not to sound condescending.

After once again confirming the make of car I drive, she picks up a key out of a tiny little bowl on one of their filing cabinets. It is none other than my car key. Which says Jeep on it. Twice. The word Durango won't even fit on my key the way it is designed.

Me: "That's it. That's my car key!!" said with an overwhelming sigh of a relief.

Girl 2: Look of sheer confusion. She inspects it closely for upwards of 90 seconds.

Me: I consider that this should have been done perhaps the first time I had visited her office.

Girl 2 to Girl 1: "It is a Jeep key!"

Me: Really now?

After exchanging looks of bewilderment, they finally hand me my key and I sign for it in their lost and found logbook. In my frustration, I didn't take the time to read the description in the logbook. I wish I knew if it was in fact described as a Jeep or Durango key. I fear this will haunt me the rest of my life.

Relieved and more than ready to be on my way I thank them and start out the door. As I walk away I hear laughter.

Girl 2 to Girl 1: "At least she got it!"

I have no words.

It's Finally Here!!

2008-09-05T17:54:00.001-07:00

There were pumpkin scones at Starbucks this morning. One of the best days of the year.

Fall is finally here people!!

Batman Trumps All

2008-09-01T01:45:00.000-07:00

Batman is the greatest super hero ever created. Yes Mike, even greater than Superman. I have given this a lot of thought and here's why:

1) He never intentionally kills anyone.

2) He never uses a gun.

3) He doesn't acually have any super powers.

4) He's not from another planet.

5) He shows mercy to his enemies.

6) His goals are actually altruistic.

7) He understands that black is classic and is thus always fashionable.

8) He doesn't have a jerry curl.

9) He's played by Christian Bale.

If you disagree with me, you're wrong. Get over it. But if you want to make a case for your fav, leave me a comment. We will discuss further.

Theatre Week

2008-09-01T01:36:00.000-07:00

I didn't really plan it this way but last week evolved into National Theatre Week for me. I bought tickets to one event months ago. Two friends were in shows this last weekend. It didn't dawn on me that it would be the same weekend until the Monday before. And as an employee of an Arts Center, you don't turn down comps to a show when they're offered. I consider such perks a poor compromise between the salary I deserve and the one I actually make.

Wednesday - A Chorus Line - Orange County Performing Arts Center

It made me miss performing so much that I'm actually considering auditioning for a play after Christmas. I hope they have a silent role for me. :)

Friday - Picasso at the Lapin Agile - Maverick Theatre

It's hard to go wrong with Steve Martin. It was hilarious!! My friend was amazing and I was highly entertained by one actress whose French accent kept turning Jamaican.

Saturday - Les Miserables - Moonlight Productions, Vista, CA

Again I was overwhelmed by the talent of my friends. It was a fantastic production but let's take stock in the fact that this is such an amazing story, it holds it's own regardless of who's performing. It reminded me of how powerful mercy can be and how a single merciful act can change someone's life forever.

Sunday - The Films of Warner Brothers - Hollywood Bowl

I thought I watched a lot of movies but this made me realize that I've missed some major moments in cinematic history. I have a lot of homework to do. The evening was an advenutre and a half. More to come later.

Not a bad week.

Happy Birthday! Wait! What?

2008-08-24T21:31:00.000-07:00

So my mom informed me yesterday afternoon that she and dad forgot my birthday. This is a fact I have been well aware of for almost two months since my birthday was on June 25th.

Well, half birthday that is. My real birthday is on Christmas and ever since I was little my mom always made a point of celebrating my half birthday since Christmas was always so busy with family stuff - a gesture much appreciated since it ensured I wouldn't receive any combination (Christmas/Birthday) gifts.

As I've gotten older my half birthday has been less celebrated than in years past. Which I'm fine with since I hate the birthday song almost as much as I like cake. (Almost! They don't quite cancel each other out.) It went from rainbow/50s/slumber party blowouts in my pre-teens to dinner with a small group of close friends over the last decade or so. I remember my grandfather calling me one year and asking, "are we still doing the half birthday thing?" I told him no since I preferred getting a big check once a year over two smaller checks twice a year. He appreciated the opportunity to save a stamp. You're welcome grandpa! I think my parents are the only ones who still consistently celebrate my half birthday...that is until this year.

I can't really be upset with them over this grievance though for a number of reasons:

a) I am TERRIBLE about remembering birthdays. If I forgot yours, I'm sorry. I probably wrote it down but neglected to look at my calendar for over a week (which I often do) and was so embarassed that I didn't say anything the day of that I figured it was better if I didn't say anything at all. If you had a party that involved cake, it would increase the likelihood of my remembering ten fold.

b) We are usually so busy in the summer that the celebration of my half birthday gets put off a month or two anyway.

c) I usually have such a hard time deciding what I want to do for my birthday that it gets put off an additional month or two. If I wait until after Labor Day to decide, my mom gets upset with me and threatens to not celebrate it on purpose.

d) My parents celebrate my birthday twice a year.

I'm always so surprised they insist on doing so. I'm sure there's been several years I didn't deserve it. But I appreciate that they go the distance to make sure that I have a day that celebrates me alone and not all that Christmas Day encompasses. When you have a birthday showdown with the Messiah, you rarely, strike that, never come out on top.

Besides, who am I to turn down cake in my honor twice a year? Quarter birthdays anyone? Takers? Bueller?

Global Warming

2008-08-24T10:58:00.000-07:00

I have to admit that I don't really care about the environment all that much. If there's a recycle bin available, I will use it but I don't go out of my way to consider our earth's resources. I heard a compelling argument in college that global warming was just a geological trend and I've held to it ever since. That is, until now.

I saw an add today that said: STOP GLOBAL WARMING...OR ALL THE REESE'S WILL MELT.

I am seriously concerned.

Life is like...

2008-08-23T23:54:00.000-07:00

I very often live in my own little world but whenever someone mentions chocolate, I pay attention. I have to admit Forrest (or his mama if I want to be accurate) was right. Life is like a box of chocolates and you never know what you're gonna get.

That's about as much as I can guarantee for this blog. You never know what you're gonna get, but it most likely will be sweet and I can assure you that chocolate will be a recurring theme. I figure I will just post things as they come to me, you can pick the pieces that you like and toss the rest out along with the box and paper cups.

My hope is that it gives some insight into who I am for those that don't know me as well and a connection for those that do know me but are far from home. My sisters and my best friend have been blogging for a little while now and even though I may not see them for months on end, it makes me feel like I get to be a part of their lives, even if I am basically just reading their diary (although this time with their permission). No matter how small the part I may play, I'm grateful they've invited me in. So I do the same for you. Have a seat, read on and may chocolate always be by your side.