A few weeks ago, over happy hour (shocking, I know), I had an idea. Well, the idea was brought up to me and I jumped on it. A colleague who recently lost her sweet pup was telling me how she used to lend her dog to local people in need of love and offer up her puppy snuggles to them as pet therapy.
Now, as a dog lover myself, this idea sounded simply wonderful. Not only do I have an uber snuggler (albeit a wall-licker) of a pup, but I've been yearning for some option to do something to better mankind. ("Wow, you got Marky Mark to find time in his busy pants-dropping schedule to plant a tree?" ---- Sorry. Had to throw in the obligatory Clueless quote when the opportunity arose.)
A lightbulb immediately went off and the next day I asked my puppy loving-est friend if she knew where I could find such a program (my colleague lives in SoCal, so obviously it would be cumbersome to try and join her program, although I'd love the excuse to travel to SD every month!) Not surprisingly, my local friend (the most loving Rottie owner in the world, who very unfortunately lost her sweet Em recently) knew right where to lead me and I got in contact with a local group that day.
This group has various one-hour visits at facilities throughout the greater Sacramento area, including elderly facilities, mental health centers and community centers.
So, tomorrow I go on a "Shadow visit" where I follow a therapy dog and their owner for an hour. The visit is at a local library, which was somewhat of a surprise... As it turns out, organizations such as this offer programs for young children who struggle with reading to practice in front of the pups, as a less-stressful option for them to work on their reading skills.
As a star reader myself (at least in my mind), I find this to be a perfect fit for me. I'm sure I drove my mom and dad berserk growing up, as I would find any possible reason to read aloud to them, everything from my essays, to news articles, to labels on our groceries. The opportunity to help someone who struggles in reading is an amazing way to help them strengthen the building blocks that are so important to being successful.
So tomorrow we will see if this program is everything I've been dreaming it is. And then in another week, Bruce and I have orientation. Then we have to go through an obedience test (conveniently enough judged by the woman who Bruce, Rocco, Shupe and I have used as our trainer for the last few years!) and we will be ready to roll!
I am so excited about the opportunity to share a few snuggles with someone who may not be as fortunate as I am to have a live-in snuggler (Bruce, not Shupie).
Wish us luck!
Monday, June 4, 2012
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
CR Redux
First, let me explain something...
When Jae Rae and I travelled Europe for a month a few years back, we took the time to stop at various internet cafe's and email our friends/fam updates on our shenanigans. Turns out, this ended up being a fantastic online diary of our whirlwind month abroad. I still revisit those emails, almost six years later, and it brings a smile to my face to bring back the memories I have forgotten. The hot German bartender with a HUGE crush on Jae (she is the most beautiful Korean gal you will ever meet); the bachelor dressed as Elvis for his bachelor party at the wine festival (and his cute blonde friend that seemed to have a thing for me); the three bottles of wine we drank while savoring tapas in Barcelona as "Tokyo y California" as the called us; the emergency trip to the hospital at 3:00a in Amsterdam where Jae had to lead me, blind, to a cab, and try to convince the night nurse in the notorious toke-town that no, I was NOT high on drugs and YES, I really could not see. Oh, and one cannot forget the midnight walk home from the Moulin Rouge through the Red Light District in Paris where the two of us almost got accosted by forward Frenchies. Oh, and there is so much more that just isn't suitable for the millions of readers of this blog. (Bahahahaha, right.)
Anyway, this point of this post is two-fold:
1. To share some of the funny stories from my trip to Costa Rica with Shupasaurus with any of you that might be interested.
2. To help me remember next year (hell, next month) what we did and the amazing time we had.
So don't feel obligated to read the whole thing. I know you have things to do, TV shows to watch and cocktails to drink. All of which are probably much more exciting. But to those of you who make it the whole way through: I owe you a drink.
Here goes...
Travel
I was lucky enough to get off work extra early on Thursday; an extra good thing since i still had my packing to do! After a quick ten minute packing job, it was off to happy hour! Shupe and I got started a little early while waiting for the usual suspects to get off work. A giant beer for you, a giant beer for me. A little Morgan's action and then sushi to cap it off. The goal was to get nice and toasted to make the 12:30a flight, 3 hour mid-morning layover and noon-time arrival a little more tolerable (perhaps scoring some xanax would have been easier?) Here's a note to my fellow travellers: shots of saki plus two late night/early morning plane rides is not a good mix. Just ask Shupe.
Day 1
We got to town mid-day and got our rental car. Fail #1: my dumb ass forgot my driver's license, so driving for the next 6 days was all Shupie. After the couple hour drive to La Fortuna from San Jose, we arrive at the Magic Mountain Hotel, right in time for happy hour! Bonus! Gotta love 2 for 1 at the hotel. We settled in, had dinner at a soda nearby (a soda is like a road side food stand w/ standard Tico fare).
Our view from our room in La Fortuna: Arenal Volcano
Day 2
We signed up for a guided hike and our guide, Pedro, was awesome. We caught a glimpe of a howler monkey right on the side of the road. Amazing. He knew everything there was to know about birds and every fallic reference Costa Ricans make about their various plants.
PedroLater, we hit a long and lazy happy hour near the hotel, with a great view of the crazy Costa Rican tour bus route, followed by 2 for 1 in the pool, where we chatted with Kelly, a middle aged man from Arkansas and his fellow giant-tour-bus tourist buddies. I think seeing a 20-something in a bikini was a definite perk up from the 50-something crowd he was travelling with. I don't think his wife felt the same way.
Day 3
A morning of ziplining!
Who's got two thumbs and loves the zipline? This guy! And let me tell you, the ziplining here was AWESOME! We went in Kauai a few years back and the most exciting thing we saw were.... COWS! It was literally over pastures! Not to mention the $150 per person price tag we paid! This trip was only $60 and even included.... Drum roll... My very first horseback ride! Yeeeeehaw! After a couple of hours of swinging through the jungle and getting a bird's eye view of the waterfalls, I got my chance to ride a real live horse!
My first horseback ride!
Of course, these horses weren't the thoroughbreds from the Budweiser commercials, but a horse is a horse is a horse when it's your first time. I'll admit, when they started galloping I got a little scared that I was going to fly off (hey, I had an aunt who got squashed by a horse, so I have reason to be apprehensive!) but it was awesome. Not so awesome when I told Shupie about my nervousness and he told me that wasn't called a "gallop," but "barely a trot." Oh what the heck ever, Mr. 4-H! Dork.
Me, swinging through the trees
So, we hit the road. And just when we are far enough for it to be annoying to turn back, we realize we forgot the GPS. DOH!
After a couple of "I think this is the way.... Oh, wait, Shupie, turn around"s, we stop for a brewski at an uber local Tico spot where thankfully I know enough Espanol to get a couple beers, some food, a potty break and the check. We hit the road for the end of the trip and after a good four hours of driving, we start seeing actual signs of where we are headed! Hot damn! We reach our destination at around 4:15 and learn that, ahem, the park closes at 3:30. After a brief expletive rant, we turn around and head back for the few hour drive home. We will forever remember the GPS after that trip. Tico drivers are crazy enough during the day, let alone driving on the non-lit roads at dark time.
Day 4 - Shupie's big 33!!
We hit the road to our second destination, the Monteverde Cloud Forrest. It turns out to be our lucky day, because about an hour after we leave (around 9:30a), we stumble upon the only microbrewery in Costa Rica! Volcano Brewing is a totally fun little brewery/restaurant/hotel that we will definitely be staying at on our next CR adventure. We share a sampler and have a couple colds ones, including their signature "Gato Malo" or "Bad Cat." Our awesome server, just arrived from her home in Tamarindo, warns us that our idea of changing our trip and staying a few days in Costa Rica might be a tough one, as most hotels are full due to Semana Santa (Holy Week), which is a big Tico holiday. We take her advice to heart and head on our way.
We quickly learn that the last two hours of the drive to our hotel is on the crappiest road you would imagine. It's the road I was scared of when reading about the crappy CR roads. So far we had seen crazy passing by locals and total speeding, but no bumpy, rocky, rutty roads like this. And, as is par for the course, someone you know and love (me) ends up having to use the facilities (of which there are none) about half way through. This was the first time since the notorious "Only five more Hawaiian minutes til we get there" bus trip of my graduation trip that I thought I might actually not make it to the restroom. Thank little baby Jesus that we found the one bar mid-way there with a restroom (and some Imperials - woohoo!) we could stop at. Unfortunately, a travelling Swedish student was currently using the facilities to BRUSH HER TEETH! I about died. Anyway, she hurried it up and I got the ultimate "ahhhhhhhhhhh" moment, followed by a couple more Imperials. Turns out, Ms. Sweden and her five travelling student friends had accidentally broked off their car key in the car door the day before and had therefore been drinking for the last 12+ hours straight. I can see why she wanted a tooth brushing. :)
Cow transport in CR... I'm sure they were just taking him for a vacay in Tamarindo
Here's your gag moment for the trip:
On his birthday, Shupe and I get caught in the pouring Costa Rica rain, cross a foot bridge over a flowing river when he stops, turns to me and give me a big rainy smooch. Take that, Nicholas Sparks, and your stupid romantic barfy novels!
Yeah. So that happened.
Anyway... We take off on the night hike after we get back (thankfully the rain was a half hour bout and then done with). The dweeby family we had to go with aside, the hike was kinda of neat and we got to see some pretty giant poisonous frogs, along with some wicked spiders and scorpions. I guess night hikes are aimed at boys.
Shupe the Stud at the Fonda Vela Hotel
Day 5
We decide that we've kind of "done" the whole jungle hiking/exploring thing the next morning and head off to try our luck at finding a place to stay in Tamarindo, the Tico beach destination on the Pacific Coast.
After another lengthy (because the speed limit is so slow) drive, we get to our beach town destination at noon time, grab a cocktail and some lunch and work on finding a place to stay. The first place we asked, right across the street from the beach, says they have a room, but with no A/C. Ehh... We'll let you know.
The second spot: no rooms.
The third spot: Hotel Pasatiempo. First, the owner is awesome, speaks perfect English (he's from Colorado, for heaven's sake) and even offers to help us change our flights and rental car plan.
See, our itinerary had us staying this night in Monteverde and then driving to San Jose the next day for our last night in CR followed by flying out the day after. After 4 days in paradise, we (I) just weren't ready to go home. I was willing to pay the $600 each to change our flights and go to the beach for a few days.
But Mr. Colorado got our airline on the phone and (viola!) our flights get changed to Sunday AND we get upgraded to first class.... For less than we were going to pay to change our flights before! Chicka chicka yeah!
We book a room for the next five nights and head to our bungalow to suit up and hop in the pool. I now know the true meaning of Pura Vida. Pure life. Having not a care in the world.
Not only was the hotel awesome and Mr. Colorado incredibly helpful, but they were featuring LIVE MUSIC at their bar that night. Someone pinch me now!
Shupie and I got drink a few (ok maybe more than a few) Imperials, grab dinner, drink some more Imperials, and head to the show. We meet tons of fun people and the cover band is totally fun. As Shupie isn't much of a dancer (perhaps because his signature move is the Elaine and he knows it) I find a fun gal from Nova Scotia to hit the Costa Rican dance floor with me. Totally fun. And not only that, but I get a salsa lesson with one of the local Tico's that work at the hotel - so fun!!
Hotel Pasatiempo at night
Day 6
Turns out, a night of Imperials and dancing makes for a tired gal. Shupie and I venture out to check out close by beaches while we still have the rental car and hit Lola's on Playa Avellanas, a nearby hot spot. Turns out, beers and Lola's at 10 is still a little early, so we cruise around a bit and head back to spend some time at the beach by our place.
After Shupe gets his first few runs in (mama was too tired from dancing to surf today) we hit some happy hours (apparently everywhere on the beach has two for one specials).
As we sit at a super fun little spot with a live DJ and decent cocktails, staring out at the great blue yonder, it little trinkle of rain starts. We stay out there, figuring the rain will subside (heck, the told us it hasn't rained in four months in Tamarindo!)... Turns out, this wasn't going to stop at a trickle. As the terrential downpour starts, we grab our stuff and head for cover, where we watch in awe as the staff run frantically to move the DJ equipment, patio chairs, hanging linens, everything that risks ruin in this serious rain. It was quite entertaining, I must admit.
Happy hour, before the downpour
Thinking that we might want to check to make sure that the airline got our flights right, we hit the local internet cafe. Big mistake. After seeing those 700+ unread emails, I quickly remember that there is a reality. After a moment of panic, I take a deep breath and return to vacay mode. Those messages can wait a few more days.
But the catch is: those jerks at United who bribed me with first class goofed on our flights and have us going home on Saturday instead of Sunday. They will have heck to pay!! Just kidding. I tried to call and see if we could change the flight to what it was supposed to be, but the half hour wait time at a quarter per minute just wasn't going to happen. So we had the quick chat and decided that maybe Saturday was better to come home. I missed the mutts, Shupe had already worn each of his shirts four times, and I really hadn't properly arranged mutt-sitting and dog food delivery throught the weekend. (yes, we are those jerks that leave people to watch our dogs but do not buy enough food for them to eat for the entire time we're gone. Whoops!)
Day 7
Today, beach day! After a quick breakfast, we rent a board and hit the beach. Shupe, then me, then Shupe, then me, then Shupe, then me, then Shupe... Shupe and more Shupe. Hey, mama is pale and can only take so much time in direct sunlight.
But I'll admit, they were right: Tamarindo waves are uber easy to catch and even a bozo can do it. A bozo named Chelsea! It was awesome. We take our turns riding, drinking beers from the travel cooler we bought, resting, riding, drinking. And thanks to the old man who walks up and down the beach selling beer out of his ice chest, our little cooler stayed full the whole time! It was awesome.
In the afternoon, we even hook up with some folks from Jersey, one of which is a spitting image of Penny, our fabulous Aussie friend who stayed in SD and Sac with us a few years back. We chat them up and take turns hitting the waves for the rest of the afternoon. Perfection.
The end of the wave
Day 8
A lazy Tamarindo day, enjoying the joys of the Dry Law days. Yep, you saw that right. Turns out that Thursday and Friday before Easter in this uber Catholic country and dry days: no booze can be sold at stores, no drinks can be sold at bars or restaurants. What does this mean? Stock up on Wednesday and bring your own. Yep, most restaurants are ok when you bring your own. Other restaurants will servce you, as long as you promise to tell the cops (if they come) that you brought it yourself. Or you just have to keep watch for the cops yourself and then make your cocktails scarce. We wound up at a sushi place after being handed a flier at the beach and learning, after a little prodding, that they'd serve if you signed a waiver saying you brough it. For real.
Shupe and I head home to imbibe our own by the pool for the night and call it a perfect CR day.
No guaro for you!
Day 9Go home day.
Beach day, while we can. We last Imperials and get our junk ready to go.
Our shack at the Hotel Pasatiempo
We arranged a cab to drive us the hour from the hotel to the airport (which we changed to Liberia instead of San Jose, as it was 3 hours closer). He drove like a maniac and I had flashbacks of the time my aging grandfather drove me to the airport in LA to drop me off and the entire time I felt like I was on the brink of death the entire time. Until now, that was the scariest ride of my life. No longer. This Tico knows how to pass like Mario Andretti on the last lap. (did that sound like I know anything about race car driving?)
The first class ride home was nice, albeit snobby, but nice. The hot towels they pass out was a little over the top, but the woman who walks the aisle with the wine all but made me forget what a snob I was being. Not to mention the real leg room and actually comfortable seats. And free movies. I mean, I not only got endless wine, my four favorite gals even got to join me on the second leg of the trip: Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte. Sex and the City and wine on the ride home?! I almost forgot how bittersweet the trip home was.
Thanks to my mama for picking us up at midnight from the airport. Love you.
Have you read all this way? Look at you!! :) Congrats for sticking with it!
All in all, it was the best trip ever. We had the best time, remembered why we still like each other after these last five years, got to take a break from stressing about work and got to do things we've never done (yeah, horseback riding)!
I realized that we are all too focused on work, earning money, paying bills and being a part of the daily grind. We need time off. Time to decompress. Time to explore. Time to see the world.
So now, we are back to work and back to reality. But this time, our work is a means to an ends that will take us somewhere. For now we have the Discoball Speakeasy, but soon we'll have another adventure to look forward to. And I can't wait.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Oh my god, Becky, look at her...
I've been thinking about women a lot lately.
Not in the "see ya, Shupe, I've found a lady friend" kind of way.
I've been thinking about our image of ourselves. Other's image of us. The media's portrayal of women. The fact that a panel of men think they have a right to make decisions about our bodies. I've been thinking about radio dj's who feel a woman speaking on her right to contraception is a "slut" who should make her sexual activity available for viewing by said dj. I've been thinking about the people who kept on listening.
I've never been one to have a good self-image. I grew up with (albeit loving) nicknames of "Tubby" and "Piglet" and "Slow-Mo." I've always had, like many many young people, that nagging feeling that I could look better. That feeling has taken me to the gym. That feeling has encouraged my nearly two decades of vegetarianism. The better stuff you put in your body, the healthier your body will be.
This week, someone I care deeply about took that same low body image and headed to the surgery center, going under the knife to literally limit the amount of food and drink they can physically injest. Visiting them yesterday, I had flashbacks of my dad, in the final days of a disease that would end up taking his life. Groggy, incoherant, in pain and unable to walk more than a hallway's length. But this time it was self-inflicted, not at the behest of the indiscriminate illness we call cancer.
When I thought about writing this post, I took a hard look at just how many people I know that have gone through this same procedure for this same reason. Hoping not to offend, I have been in turmoil about whether or not to even put these thoughts to "paper." But then I decided that it has to be said. If we could stop and think for a moment, we would realize how far from healthy we have become.
But I can't put the blame solely on women and their desire to look like a starlet on the runway. This is the image thrust upon us by the media, celebrities, royalty and everyone who promotes the unattainable goal that is perfection.
Every time I go to purchase my groceries at the market and I see that Star Magazine, the one with the pictures of "who looks great in a bikini, who looks not so great," I realize that is what little girls with their moms are seeing. Who are we do judge bikini bodies of the famous? Who is buying this shit? I know this is an extreme case, but just think about it. Burly football players are flanked by scantily clad cheerleaders in barely-there outfits; female tv anchors don tank tops and cleavage next to male anchors in three-piece suits; Fiat sells us cars by ads with a sexy woman speaking a foreign language (who cares what she's saying anyway?) making swoony eyes at the geeky guy. This is what sells.
Then we have Congress and the uber religious deciding that they know best what rights a woman should have over her body. A panel of men served as the "experts" regarding women's rights to contraception. Dozens of propositions are circlating in many states regarding "personhood," who can get an abortion and what reasons these people feel are reasonable for her to do so. Abortion doctors continue to be targeted with violence. If you don't agree with contraception and abortion, don't use it and don't have one. Nobody is forcing you to. But when you try to tell me what I should and shouldn't do in the privacy of my home, you bet your ass I'm going to stand up a give you the fight of your life.
Nobody has the right to tell a victim of rape that she is not legally allowed to rid her body of the evidence of that horrific event, unless they've walked in her shoes. It is not your choice. She's been through enough without having to fight for the right to have control of her body, after she was forced to lose all control over it. Shame on you.
I must say, though, that it's not all bad. Women are speaking up. Women are banding together to say enough is enough. We cannot risk giving up what we've fought so hard for.
Let's unite. Let's decide that healthy is eating right and exercising, not spending the day at the surgery center and two weeks on a liquid diet. Let's tell her she's beautiful not because she's thin, but because she shines from the inside out. Let's not buy those trashy magazines that propetuate an unatainable ideal of perfection. We all deserve to feel good about ourselves and make others feel happy with themselves.
If you want to join the movement of women (and men) standing up to say that this war on women must end, go to http://www.wearewomenmarch.net/. Let's do it for our daughters, and their daughters. And their sons and brothers.
Not in the "see ya, Shupe, I've found a lady friend" kind of way.
I've been thinking about our image of ourselves. Other's image of us. The media's portrayal of women. The fact that a panel of men think they have a right to make decisions about our bodies. I've been thinking about radio dj's who feel a woman speaking on her right to contraception is a "slut" who should make her sexual activity available for viewing by said dj. I've been thinking about the people who kept on listening.
I've never been one to have a good self-image. I grew up with (albeit loving) nicknames of "Tubby" and "Piglet" and "Slow-Mo." I've always had, like many many young people, that nagging feeling that I could look better. That feeling has taken me to the gym. That feeling has encouraged my nearly two decades of vegetarianism. The better stuff you put in your body, the healthier your body will be.
This week, someone I care deeply about took that same low body image and headed to the surgery center, going under the knife to literally limit the amount of food and drink they can physically injest. Visiting them yesterday, I had flashbacks of my dad, in the final days of a disease that would end up taking his life. Groggy, incoherant, in pain and unable to walk more than a hallway's length. But this time it was self-inflicted, not at the behest of the indiscriminate illness we call cancer.
When I thought about writing this post, I took a hard look at just how many people I know that have gone through this same procedure for this same reason. Hoping not to offend, I have been in turmoil about whether or not to even put these thoughts to "paper." But then I decided that it has to be said. If we could stop and think for a moment, we would realize how far from healthy we have become.
But I can't put the blame solely on women and their desire to look like a starlet on the runway. This is the image thrust upon us by the media, celebrities, royalty and everyone who promotes the unattainable goal that is perfection.
Every time I go to purchase my groceries at the market and I see that Star Magazine, the one with the pictures of "who looks great in a bikini, who looks not so great," I realize that is what little girls with their moms are seeing. Who are we do judge bikini bodies of the famous? Who is buying this shit? I know this is an extreme case, but just think about it. Burly football players are flanked by scantily clad cheerleaders in barely-there outfits; female tv anchors don tank tops and cleavage next to male anchors in three-piece suits; Fiat sells us cars by ads with a sexy woman speaking a foreign language (who cares what she's saying anyway?) making swoony eyes at the geeky guy. This is what sells.
Then we have Congress and the uber religious deciding that they know best what rights a woman should have over her body. A panel of men served as the "experts" regarding women's rights to contraception. Dozens of propositions are circlating in many states regarding "personhood," who can get an abortion and what reasons these people feel are reasonable for her to do so. Abortion doctors continue to be targeted with violence. If you don't agree with contraception and abortion, don't use it and don't have one. Nobody is forcing you to. But when you try to tell me what I should and shouldn't do in the privacy of my home, you bet your ass I'm going to stand up a give you the fight of your life.
Nobody has the right to tell a victim of rape that she is not legally allowed to rid her body of the evidence of that horrific event, unless they've walked in her shoes. It is not your choice. She's been through enough without having to fight for the right to have control of her body, after she was forced to lose all control over it. Shame on you.
I must say, though, that it's not all bad. Women are speaking up. Women are banding together to say enough is enough. We cannot risk giving up what we've fought so hard for.
Let's unite. Let's decide that healthy is eating right and exercising, not spending the day at the surgery center and two weeks on a liquid diet. Let's tell her she's beautiful not because she's thin, but because she shines from the inside out. Let's not buy those trashy magazines that propetuate an unatainable ideal of perfection. We all deserve to feel good about ourselves and make others feel happy with themselves.
If you want to join the movement of women (and men) standing up to say that this war on women must end, go to http://www.wearewomenmarch.net/. Let's do it for our daughters, and their daughters. And their sons and brothers.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Did somebody say COSTA RICA?!?
I think it hit me yesterday.
In less than two weeks, I'll be on a plane, on my way to my dream vacay spot. We will be leavin' on a jet plane heading to Costa Stickin' Rica, baby!
This is the perk of booking a trip in two months rather than ten months. Less of a delay in that delayed gratification. Shupe and I are one Sactown weekend away from Central American bliss.
Are we ready? Eh, no. Do we have appropriate swimwear/footwear/rainwear? Not so much. But you better believe we are dragging our pre-departure booties to the mall in the next week to check those items off of our "to buy" list.
Heck, I just realized today I probably should actually think about wardrobe decisions. I mean, I have my three go to pairs of shoes, but how realistic is it to take my favorite oh-so-comfy brown (vegan!) boots on a 6 hour (plus 3 hour layover and plane change) plane ride? Not so much.
And what will the Tico's think if this gringa lands in their lovely country looking frumpy/tired/homely/insert-weak-sauce-adjective-here? They may be known for being the friendliest people in the world, but I bet they've caught themselves shaking their heads at unprepared vacationers running for cover in a sudden rainstorm in white linen pants and stilletos. (Don't worry, I don't own white linen pants, so we're safe.)
But here we are, t-minus ten days and counting. Time to get on it.
Oh, and did I mention the biggest eek of the whole thing?
It's the moment of truth. . . . . . . . . . . .
Swimsuit shopping. (Everyone please let out a collective uggggg.) But this time, I am assuring myself it will be different. I've been working it at the gym for, eh, maybe ten months or so (where does the time go!?) and I'm thinking this might not be as bad as it has in the past. No matter that it's been five years since I've been in a fitting room with a rack of teeny tiny bikinis. No matter that instead of a 24 year old in the dressing room, it will be a almost-30-year old in there. Do they make special fitting rooms with darker lighting and maybe a courage cocktail for those of us on the waining end of their 20's?
Ok, ok, just kidding. I don't think it will be that bad, but let's just say I saved one of the good bottles of wine just in case things go south at the Galleria.
But if the worst thing that happens is I run into some bad dressing room lighting, I guess I can handle it. Worst comes to worse, Shupe and I will stick with the rainforest and save the beach time for next trip.
Nah.
Those kettle bell swings, trx lunges, tire flips, prowler pulls/pushes, (attempted) pull ups and the like have me convinced it won't be that bad.
If you don't see posts for a while, it's because I've taken to wearing my swimsuit everyday and now I'm out of work but looking really tan from plenty of off time spent sunbathing in my backyard.
Vamanos a Costa Rica, ahora!
In less than two weeks, I'll be on a plane, on my way to my dream vacay spot. We will be leavin' on a jet plane heading to Costa Stickin' Rica, baby!
This is the perk of booking a trip in two months rather than ten months. Less of a delay in that delayed gratification. Shupe and I are one Sactown weekend away from Central American bliss.
Are we ready? Eh, no. Do we have appropriate swimwear/footwear/rainwear? Not so much. But you better believe we are dragging our pre-departure booties to the mall in the next week to check those items off of our "to buy" list.
Heck, I just realized today I probably should actually think about wardrobe decisions. I mean, I have my three go to pairs of shoes, but how realistic is it to take my favorite oh-so-comfy brown (vegan!) boots on a 6 hour (plus 3 hour layover and plane change) plane ride? Not so much.
And what will the Tico's think if this gringa lands in their lovely country looking frumpy/tired/homely/insert-weak-sauce-adjective-here? They may be known for being the friendliest people in the world, but I bet they've caught themselves shaking their heads at unprepared vacationers running for cover in a sudden rainstorm in white linen pants and stilletos. (Don't worry, I don't own white linen pants, so we're safe.)
But here we are, t-minus ten days and counting. Time to get on it.
Oh, and did I mention the biggest eek of the whole thing?
It's the moment of truth. . . . . . . . . . . .
Swimsuit shopping. (Everyone please let out a collective uggggg.) But this time, I am assuring myself it will be different. I've been working it at the gym for, eh, maybe ten months or so (where does the time go!?) and I'm thinking this might not be as bad as it has in the past. No matter that it's been five years since I've been in a fitting room with a rack of teeny tiny bikinis. No matter that instead of a 24 year old in the dressing room, it will be a almost-30-year old in there. Do they make special fitting rooms with darker lighting and maybe a courage cocktail for those of us on the waining end of their 20's?
Ok, ok, just kidding. I don't think it will be that bad, but let's just say I saved one of the good bottles of wine just in case things go south at the Galleria.
But if the worst thing that happens is I run into some bad dressing room lighting, I guess I can handle it. Worst comes to worse, Shupe and I will stick with the rainforest and save the beach time for next trip.
Nah.
Those kettle bell swings, trx lunges, tire flips, prowler pulls/pushes, (attempted) pull ups and the like have me convinced it won't be that bad.
If you don't see posts for a while, it's because I've taken to wearing my swimsuit everyday and now I'm out of work but looking really tan from plenty of off time spent sunbathing in my backyard.
Vamanos a Costa Rica, ahora!
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
On Kony
I'm sure nearly everyone has seen the buzz regarding the so-called "Kony 2012" campaign by now. Many are fired up. More are skeptical. Some don't care. No matter how you feel, a dialogue has been created.
The concerns are fair. The charity spends over 16% of its revenue on administrative expenses. One can't deny that is a large chunk. Nearly 3% of the expenses are the salaries of the top three in the organization, each making nearly $90,000 in salary. (Although those of you who have lived in San Diego know that $90,000 is not anything to write home about in an expensive city such as it is.)
I have been donating monthly to Women for Women International, which pays its top official (the founder) over $220,000 yearly, nearly 1% of the revenue. Though they pay under 10% in administrative costs and have a higher rating as a charitable organization, that amount is not simply a drop in the bucket. But knowing the story of the founder, her hard work and struggles for her organization to come to fruition, I say she deserves it. Her work changes lives. I'm proud to sponsor my "sister" in Rwanda and I will always sponsor someone, if not multiple people.
The issue of administrative costs brings up a few issues in my mind.
First, in such a capitalistic society as is ours, shouldn't we be happy that three people are able to make their living working to better the lives of others? We applaud people for being inventive and creating a business that thrives. We rationalize multi-million dollar bonuses of oil executive who pillage far off lands for their riches. I know, I know, this is a charity. But in this world, one cannot be expected to work for free (unless your name is Clooney or Jolie). I'm sure these guys spent hundreds of waking hours stressing over this idea and hoping they could create a real solution. You saw the video, it wasn't, and doesn't appear to be, a walk in the park to get people to take notice to issues in far off places.
But I have to admit, to me the whole money issue is really secondary. They spend a lot on things that are not directly saving a child from being snatched in the night and forced to commit attrocities. But here is the piece of this story that stands out in my mind.
We're talking.
People who usually don't talk about issues more important than the weather, are talking.
People who look at the news and the tragedies in other countries and say, "there's nothing I can do," are taking action. However minimally, even with simply posting the video, they are doing something. Even if that's the extent of their activist fervor, they did something. Many of these people have likely never posted or shared with friends a story or video of an issue happening outside their bubble or the extended bubble of US affairs.
Imagine.
Imagine if hundreds, thousands, or millions of people would have spoken up about the genocide in Rwanda in the early days of the senseless violence, before the massacre of nearly 20% of the population of that country.
Imagine if people would have been vocal during the 25 years of violence and bloodshed in East Timor, which resulted in the deaths of over 100,000 people.
Imagine if information would have "gone viral" about the ethnic cleansing in Bosnia and world powers would have taken action sooner.
Imagine if efforts would have been ten-fold or one hundred-fold to end the mistake that was Vietnam, which saw a loss of lives in the millions for the Vietnamese and the tens of thousands for our soldiers (with hundreds of thousands more physically and mentally wounded).
Imagine if they would not have been silent during the attempted extermination of the Jewish population during the Holocaust. Imagine the world today if that horrible show of inhumanity would have been met with outrage throughout the world.
I'm proud that my friends are talking. I'm proud that millions of people spent thirty minutes learning about what's going on somewhere besides Hollywood. I am proud of every person who took the first step towards real compassion for perfect strangers in a place they have never been and likely will never go.
So keep talking. Keep fighting. If we don't fight against war, we are a party to making war.
The concerns are fair. The charity spends over 16% of its revenue on administrative expenses. One can't deny that is a large chunk. Nearly 3% of the expenses are the salaries of the top three in the organization, each making nearly $90,000 in salary. (Although those of you who have lived in San Diego know that $90,000 is not anything to write home about in an expensive city such as it is.)
I have been donating monthly to Women for Women International, which pays its top official (the founder) over $220,000 yearly, nearly 1% of the revenue. Though they pay under 10% in administrative costs and have a higher rating as a charitable organization, that amount is not simply a drop in the bucket. But knowing the story of the founder, her hard work and struggles for her organization to come to fruition, I say she deserves it. Her work changes lives. I'm proud to sponsor my "sister" in Rwanda and I will always sponsor someone, if not multiple people.
The issue of administrative costs brings up a few issues in my mind.
First, in such a capitalistic society as is ours, shouldn't we be happy that three people are able to make their living working to better the lives of others? We applaud people for being inventive and creating a business that thrives. We rationalize multi-million dollar bonuses of oil executive who pillage far off lands for their riches. I know, I know, this is a charity. But in this world, one cannot be expected to work for free (unless your name is Clooney or Jolie). I'm sure these guys spent hundreds of waking hours stressing over this idea and hoping they could create a real solution. You saw the video, it wasn't, and doesn't appear to be, a walk in the park to get people to take notice to issues in far off places.
But I have to admit, to me the whole money issue is really secondary. They spend a lot on things that are not directly saving a child from being snatched in the night and forced to commit attrocities. But here is the piece of this story that stands out in my mind.
We're talking.
People who usually don't talk about issues more important than the weather, are talking.
People who look at the news and the tragedies in other countries and say, "there's nothing I can do," are taking action. However minimally, even with simply posting the video, they are doing something. Even if that's the extent of their activist fervor, they did something. Many of these people have likely never posted or shared with friends a story or video of an issue happening outside their bubble or the extended bubble of US affairs.
Imagine.
Imagine if hundreds, thousands, or millions of people would have spoken up about the genocide in Rwanda in the early days of the senseless violence, before the massacre of nearly 20% of the population of that country.
Imagine if people would have been vocal during the 25 years of violence and bloodshed in East Timor, which resulted in the deaths of over 100,000 people.
Imagine if information would have "gone viral" about the ethnic cleansing in Bosnia and world powers would have taken action sooner.
Imagine if efforts would have been ten-fold or one hundred-fold to end the mistake that was Vietnam, which saw a loss of lives in the millions for the Vietnamese and the tens of thousands for our soldiers (with hundreds of thousands more physically and mentally wounded).
Imagine if they would not have been silent during the attempted extermination of the Jewish population during the Holocaust. Imagine the world today if that horrible show of inhumanity would have been met with outrage throughout the world.
I'm proud that my friends are talking. I'm proud that millions of people spent thirty minutes learning about what's going on somewhere besides Hollywood. I am proud of every person who took the first step towards real compassion for perfect strangers in a place they have never been and likely will never go.
So keep talking. Keep fighting. If we don't fight against war, we are a party to making war.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Chelsea's Cliff's Notes of Vino
I drink a decent amount of wine. It's true and there is no denying it. In an effort to make my wine habit have some sort of productive merit, I'd like to share a few thoughts on what's good, what's not and why I drink what with what.
Now, I'm not going to pretent that I'm any kind of expert, but here are the Cliff's Notes for those who find themselves scratching their heads in the wine aisle or buying wine because of the picture on the label. Although, I'll admit that I've caught myself doing that once or twice.
Of course, we all know that what you drink should depend on what you are eating, but I'm throwing a wrench into the picture. Being a vegetarian, I don't follow this line of thinking. I drink what I like, when I want it. I'll drink my big bold cab with my salad and I will like it!
If you're looking for something to cool off, a sauvignon blanc is a great choice. They tend to be light and crispy with a hint of citrus. I like to think of it as chardonnay's hip, cooler cousin. (I really don't think anyone under 45 drinks chardonnary anyway.) A good choice with lighter meals like seafood. It's worth a trip to Wilderotter vineyards in Amador to pick up their tasty Sauv Blac.
For those wanting to go with red but looking for something mild, pinor noir is always nice. It is great for those who don't want their wine to grab them and give them a shake. Rodney Strong would be a good choice and is easily accesible at your local Safeway.
A great choice for something with a hint of boldness would be a barbera. Medium bodied, with a hint of tart, this is a fabulous choice for bigger flavor without being overly assertive. I personally love the barbera at CG DiArie in Amador. They usually stock CGD at Whole Foods and Nugget.
One of my faves from way back that still tops my list now is a blend of Petite Syrah and Petit Verdot, called, appropriately enough, Petit Petit, from Michael David. In the words of MD, it is ' a joyous explosion of color and fun, it is a substantial, dense, full-bodied.' I love it. Check it out at Bel Air or take the quick trip to Lodi and stock up at the winery.
If you want to try something different, check out the Proprietor's Blend at Elevation 10 in Clarksburg. Full disclosure here, I know the owners (who are fabulous) and I helped out in their tasting room earlier this month, but even before that I knew this was a winner. A mix of Petit Verdot and Cabernet Franc, it has hints of blackberry and is bold and delicious!
If you're looking for something big that will wake up your taste buds and set the mood for a fabulous time, go with a cabernet sauvignon. Fruit-forward and full-flavored, this is great for a big meal. One that I really like is Earthquake Cab from Michael David. It should be available at Bel Air, Nugget and the like.
Next we have good old Zinfandel. Huge in Amador and Lodi, Zins are bold and often peppery and can hold up to spicy food and big meals. You can take your pick when it comes to Zins, there are a ton of a fabulous ones. For the budget-conscious, check out Bogle Zin. Local out of Clarksburg, it packs a fun bite.
If you're still feeling nervous about your wine pick, I have one fail proof suggestion: grab a bottle of bubbly, a couple champagne flutes and you're set! No self-respecting gal turns down a glass of Veuve Clicquot if offered. Just the sight of that fun yellow label and you know it is going to be a wonderful night! Throw a strawberry in there and you're in business!
What fabulous wines have you had lately?
Now, I'm not going to pretent that I'm any kind of expert, but here are the Cliff's Notes for those who find themselves scratching their heads in the wine aisle or buying wine because of the picture on the label. Although, I'll admit that I've caught myself doing that once or twice.
Of course, we all know that what you drink should depend on what you are eating, but I'm throwing a wrench into the picture. Being a vegetarian, I don't follow this line of thinking. I drink what I like, when I want it. I'll drink my big bold cab with my salad and I will like it!
If you're looking for something to cool off, a sauvignon blanc is a great choice. They tend to be light and crispy with a hint of citrus. I like to think of it as chardonnay's hip, cooler cousin. (I really don't think anyone under 45 drinks chardonnary anyway.) A good choice with lighter meals like seafood. It's worth a trip to Wilderotter vineyards in Amador to pick up their tasty Sauv Blac.
For those wanting to go with red but looking for something mild, pinor noir is always nice. It is great for those who don't want their wine to grab them and give them a shake. Rodney Strong would be a good choice and is easily accesible at your local Safeway.
A great choice for something with a hint of boldness would be a barbera. Medium bodied, with a hint of tart, this is a fabulous choice for bigger flavor without being overly assertive. I personally love the barbera at CG DiArie in Amador. They usually stock CGD at Whole Foods and Nugget.
One of my faves from way back that still tops my list now is a blend of Petite Syrah and Petit Verdot, called, appropriately enough, Petit Petit, from Michael David. In the words of MD, it is ' a joyous explosion of color and fun, it is a substantial, dense, full-bodied.' I love it. Check it out at Bel Air or take the quick trip to Lodi and stock up at the winery.
If you want to try something different, check out the Proprietor's Blend at Elevation 10 in Clarksburg. Full disclosure here, I know the owners (who are fabulous) and I helped out in their tasting room earlier this month, but even before that I knew this was a winner. A mix of Petit Verdot and Cabernet Franc, it has hints of blackberry and is bold and delicious!
If you're looking for something big that will wake up your taste buds and set the mood for a fabulous time, go with a cabernet sauvignon. Fruit-forward and full-flavored, this is great for a big meal. One that I really like is Earthquake Cab from Michael David. It should be available at Bel Air, Nugget and the like.
Next we have good old Zinfandel. Huge in Amador and Lodi, Zins are bold and often peppery and can hold up to spicy food and big meals. You can take your pick when it comes to Zins, there are a ton of a fabulous ones. For the budget-conscious, check out Bogle Zin. Local out of Clarksburg, it packs a fun bite.
If you're still feeling nervous about your wine pick, I have one fail proof suggestion: grab a bottle of bubbly, a couple champagne flutes and you're set! No self-respecting gal turns down a glass of Veuve Clicquot if offered. Just the sight of that fun yellow label and you know it is going to be a wonderful night! Throw a strawberry in there and you're in business!
What fabulous wines have you had lately?
Sunday, February 12, 2012
The view from the other side of the bar
I think I've found my calling.
For real.
Yesterday I was lucky enough to fill in at a fabulous local winery in Clarksburg called Elevation Ten. Open less than a year, the wines are awesome and the whole crew is fabulous. They let me get in their way all day and didn't even once give me the "get out of my way, volunteer!" face.
The event was the Port and Chocolate Weekend in honor of the upcoming romance lover's holiday, Valentine's Day. Of course, those of you that know me know I'm not one for romance, but it was fun seeing all those lovey dovey couples swooning over each other, and the great wine.
I got my backstage pass to the inner workings of the tasting room and saw just how much wine these wineries go through during an event. Wow. It's quite an investment. But they were as generous as ever with their pours and the guests loved it. I definitely have a newfound respect for all of the tasting room staff at the places I frequent, often asking to "revisit" this or "try" that again.
Anyway, I got to spend the last few hours of the day pouring and what a blast. The guests were so nice, even forgiving me for my non-sommalier knowledge. They understood when I had to run and ask the actual staff what pairs right with this wine and what makes a white muscat different from a black muscat.
I got to spend the day smiling, chatting with interesting people and learning about the wines. It was so fun to stand on the other side of the tasting bar. Though I was there for 7 hours, the day flew by and before I knew it the day was nearly over. It was one of the most fun Saturdays I've had in a while. Not to mention I saved a bundle keeping busy all day. (And the awesome payday of a couple bottles at the end of the day was an awesome little bonus. You better believe I walked in the door and IMMEDIATELY opened that merlot and drank a leisurely glass on the couch with my feet up.)
So, although I love my job, I may end up being stolen away for the wine business. Or perhaps finding myself a weekend gig at one of my favorite tasting rooms. Lord knows there are enough of them to choose from.
Looking for good wine? Check out Elevation Ten. You'll be glad you did. www.ElevationTen.com.
Cheers!
For real.
Yesterday I was lucky enough to fill in at a fabulous local winery in Clarksburg called Elevation Ten. Open less than a year, the wines are awesome and the whole crew is fabulous. They let me get in their way all day and didn't even once give me the "get out of my way, volunteer!" face.
The event was the Port and Chocolate Weekend in honor of the upcoming romance lover's holiday, Valentine's Day. Of course, those of you that know me know I'm not one for romance, but it was fun seeing all those lovey dovey couples swooning over each other, and the great wine.
I got my backstage pass to the inner workings of the tasting room and saw just how much wine these wineries go through during an event. Wow. It's quite an investment. But they were as generous as ever with their pours and the guests loved it. I definitely have a newfound respect for all of the tasting room staff at the places I frequent, often asking to "revisit" this or "try" that again.
Anyway, I got to spend the last few hours of the day pouring and what a blast. The guests were so nice, even forgiving me for my non-sommalier knowledge. They understood when I had to run and ask the actual staff what pairs right with this wine and what makes a white muscat different from a black muscat.
I got to spend the day smiling, chatting with interesting people and learning about the wines. It was so fun to stand on the other side of the tasting bar. Though I was there for 7 hours, the day flew by and before I knew it the day was nearly over. It was one of the most fun Saturdays I've had in a while. Not to mention I saved a bundle keeping busy all day. (And the awesome payday of a couple bottles at the end of the day was an awesome little bonus. You better believe I walked in the door and IMMEDIATELY opened that merlot and drank a leisurely glass on the couch with my feet up.)
So, although I love my job, I may end up being stolen away for the wine business. Or perhaps finding myself a weekend gig at one of my favorite tasting rooms. Lord knows there are enough of them to choose from.
Looking for good wine? Check out Elevation Ten. You'll be glad you did. www.ElevationTen.com.
Cheers!
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