Reunions

To recap: Ian and I had a great Thanksgiving and I successfully cooked a delicious meal.  With everything timed correctly.  I’m pretty much a non-cooker, so this was a very big deal for me.  I’m inspired to cook more often, but let’s see if that happens.

In other news, it’s Black Friday and I am doing no shopping whatsoever, based on the arguments that escalated to near fist-fight status at K-mart yesterday over discounted electronics.  People are crazy.  Tonight also marks my five-year high school reunion, though it’s back east so I won’t be attending.  It’s kind of a weird feeling because due to my two year-break from school I’m still in college while everyone I know has graduated.  I want to see how everyone has turned out, but at the same time I don’t.  Because largely, I know what my friends are up to, and the people I didn’t care about then I still don’t care about.

On the East Coast we have WaWa’s, convenience stores like a 7-11.  Because there was nothing better to do in my town, many people used to hang out outside of them on Friday nights.  Testimony to why my town was lame and why I left.  When I’m back home and I have to go in a WaWa, I still cringe when I see people from my graduating class.  Because they still hang out there.  And then there’s this awkward moment of recognition and yeah you look familiar but am I going to do anything more than nod and smile?  No.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved high school.  I had a great group of friends and a lot of fun.  So maybe I’ll go back for the 10-year reunion.  But for now, I’ll reminisce at a distance.

Happy Thanksgiving!

This morning Ian and I woke up at the crack of dawn (literally) to go stand in line at K-mart and get a Blu-Ray player.  We have a history of waking up really early to get technology, like the time we woke up at five am on Ian’s birthday, which was release day for the Wii, to get the toy.  Unlike the Wii, we were not successful today.

Since we were up we decided to enjoy the sunrise over the ocean, swollen clouds from last night’s rainstorm adding to the beauty.  We’re planning on a relaxed morning with the pets and then an attempt at cooking our take on the Thanksgiving meal: herb-roasted cornish game hens with all the sides.  So we’ll see how that goes.  I hope you all have a wonderful day with your loved ones.  We have a lot to be thankful for this year.

Anyone hungry?

Yesterday my coworker came into the office looking very upset.  “A raccoon just ate one of my koi fish,” she said.  “I looked and there should have been eight, but one was missing.  I found the fish tail in my gazebo.”  I expressed my condolences.  “I’m sorry too,” she said.  “Those fish are $7,000 each.”

Yes.  She said seven thousand.  And she had eight.  This is one of the craziest things I’ve heard in a long time.  For seven thousand dollars, that fish better cook, clean, and do my laundry.  Instead it became the most expensive sashimi ever.

What keeps me up at night (besides my cat)

I had a hard time falling asleep last night because I was working on a pretty intense scene in my YA manuscript and it got me all upset. This happens to me a lot – I’ll write about a fight and find I’m clenching my teeth, or I’ll write about a first kiss and get flustered, distracted. Does that ever happen to any writers out there?

Vegas

I know you were all waiting with baited breath to hear about my shark adventures, but sadly the pool was closed by the time we checked in on Saturday.  I could see the sharks but I couldn’t get close.  Alas.  It was a very disappointing moment of realization for Ian and I.  We decided to cut our losses and head for the Strip.  As my first time there, it was utterly overwhelming.

If you want an exercise in sensory (over)stimulation, Las Vegas is your town.  It is an absolute assault on the unprepared visitor.  Vegas is full of blinding light and advertisements blaring from speakers, a strapping example of commercial enterprise at its finest, all trying to get you to spend your money and most importantly, distract you from just how bad it smells.

Vegas reeks of alcohol and perfume, sewage of every degree, and most pervasive of all, cigarette smoke.  The smell wafts through the air, permeates your hair, your clothes, your skin, your life.  I’m a nonsmoker and it was horrible.  I had a headache for two days straight.  I realize how much I’ve taken for granted California’s anti public smoking laws.

It was fun though.  It was good to be with friends but ultimately Vegas just isn’t my town.  I’m not super into gambling, which is pretty much what you do in Vegas.  In high school the PTO organized a prom after-party to keep kids from going out and getting into trouble.  They had a casino section at the party and gave every student Monopoly money to gamble with, in order to win real prizes.  I couldn’t stand the thought of losing my fake money and having none, so I kept it.  That is just how lame I am.  I did partake in Vegas though, and I won a whole ten dollars.  Enough to buy me breakfast in the morning.  So all in all, it was a success.

What happens in Vegas…

This weekend, Ian and I and our friends Valeri and Jamie are going to Vegas. It’s my first time and I’m psyched. Getting there should be interesting, and being there will be fun. We’re staying at the Golden Nugget, which has a shark tank in the pool. With a slide going through it. Oh my god.

Growing up I read all these books about shark attacks, boats getting capsized, and shark hunts. And while sharks are fascinating, I hate them. I used to worry about sharks hanging out in the deep end of the pool. Irrational fear, right? I still have it. I won’t go in the ocean either, because in addition to being horribly polluted, there are sharks in there. Ian has tried to convince me otherwise, but then he showed me this video. That’s right by my house. So yeah. I hate sharks.

I think, however, that I’m going to have to go in. Muster my courage and go for it. I have an underwater housing on my camera, so I may even bring back proof. Wish me luck.

Wrinkles

Yesterday Ian and I were brushing our teeth, making faces at each other in the bathroom mirror.  He touched the corners of my mouth.  “You’re getting wrinkly,” he said.  It’s true.

I am too young for wrinkles, but there is a definite concentration around my mouth, exactly where my face creases when I grin.  Smile lines, earned by a life of laughing.  Smile lines because my husband is a good joke teller and makes me smile fifty billion times a day.  They’re not going to make me any younger, but they’re kind of like a badge of pride.  I’d rather wear my happiness on my face than have a flawless complexion.  So when I’m eighty and my wrinkles are carved deep into my face you’ll know why.

Ian’s birthday and why I’m jealous of Rubio’s

Today my husband turns 27! In addition to being a fantastic best friend, joke-teller, photographer, and husband, he’s an all around great person. I’m a little sad though, because Rubio’s Mexican Restaurant beat me to the punch and got Ian an early birthday present: a free lunch of his choice. Up to seven whole dollars.

Ian is part of Rubio’s fan club, and when he got the email detailing his gift his face lit up. We’re talking powering the neighborhood lights bright. He clapped his hands over his bursting grin. “Oh my god,” he said, “This is amazing.” It was like Christmas. Sadly, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make Ian quite as happy as Rubio’s. He loves the restaurant so much he wanted me to share this story with you. In the hopes, perhaps, that you too might treat him to a Rubio’s lunch?

At the very least, leave him some birthday wishes at his blog or on facebook.

Happy birthday Ian!

You know your family is crazy when…

… the most common words you say after, “Riley, no” are “Sam, get out of the refrigerator.”  And Sam is a cat.

My rain dance

This weekend I bought a new pair of windshield wipers.  This may not seem exciting to everyone, but it was fantastically awesome to me.  Sometimes the small pleasures mean the most.  My last pair of windshield wipers were rusted, warped, and made visibility worse than doing nothing, so it was time.  Imagine: streak-free shine!  Seeing the road!  No squeaking!  Goodness all around, I tell you.

The purchase was also my version of doing the rain dance.  Don’t get me wrong, I love California’s (usually) clear skies and the constant warmth, but I’ve been aching for a change of pace and a little weather.  I’m from the East Coast, where it pours so hard you have to pull your car off the road and wait for the storm to pass.  You get used to slogging around in puddles, squish your toes through the mud, wear rain boots, and cute hats.  I’m the kind of person who dances in the rain.  I love everything about it – the way it feels, the way the pavement smells in the rain, the sound of it on the ground, the roof of my house, the roof of my car.  Rain means you curl up with a good book and a mug of hot chocolate.  It means writing a story, watching movies, slowing down.

So yeah, I hope it rains.