Endurance

12/3/12 I wake up this morning with my left cheek pressed against a corner of a pillow and just an inch away from your face, I can hear you breath while your mouth is slightly open.  My right arm wraps across your swaddled body and rests heavily over your left leg. You give me a brief wiggle to push me off.  Your shrug shoulders  and  slight grunt gives me the indication that you are ready for a diaper change.  This is the start of our day together. A visit to your Pediatrician Dr. Patty Wong for your two-week check up is today's priority. As i struggle to climb out of bed with you cradled in my arms, I think about your upset stomach keeping me up several extra hours last night,  while  your daddy sleeps through the night to prepare for his first day back at work this morning.  With a stiff neck and heavy eye lids, I mentally prepare myself for a  challenging morning.  As my frazzled  feet grabs the ground, I hold you tight against my chest, making sure you don't fall out of my arms.  I stare  at your newly developing face and suddenly out of no where, I feel rested and ready to spend another lovely day with you.  With a fully loaded diaper bag, we are prepared to leave the house for the second time in two and a half weeks to make our 1:30pm appointment.  For me, squeezing  into the backseat of Daddy's black BMW is less painful  and a bit easier compared to the first time we left the house. I sit myself next to you while your daddy safely tucks your fragile body into the infant carseat.  You begin to cry, increasing in volume and intensity, as if you knew we are headed to a doctor's appointment.   Within a few minutes of checking in and just a few feet away from us stands a nurse who calls out, "Juliette Sheahan".  The soothing melody that exerts from the pronunciation of each syllable is like a favorite song programmed on repeat mode. I can listen to it over and over again and love it more each time.  Stripping you down to your bare naked body, you are placed on your back on a medal  scale lined with tissue.  Weighing in at 8 lbs and 7 oz, you are four ounces heavier than your birth weight and almost a pound heavier than your first check-up appointment two weeks ago.  Your height is now 3/4 of an inch taller, giving  you a total of 21 inches and 3/4, and making you an overall healthy baby.   Regardless of the sleepless nights, undeniable tension between your daddy and I, and all the overwhelming newness that arise every second of the way, we drive away feeling proud and accomplished that we have a chance of getting good at this parenting thing. 

Arrival Day

11/15/12 39 weeks ago today, we had no idea whether you existed. Today, as we arrive at Kaiser in Irvine, I carry my 39 inch belly weighing 55 pounds with me, while your daddy lugs two travel size luggages and a gym bag stuffed with two pillows and a blanket,  to check ourselves into Labor and Delivery scheduled for 6:00AM.  We arrive forty five minutes past our check-in time and wait an extra ten minutes to get admitted into our room by a nurse.  From this point forward, our lives will  change forever.   Prepared with questions and knowledge, nurses and doctors enter our room where I'm hooked up to an intravenous  while your daddy starts on a conversation about our current  political issues. I immediately realize this  his  funny way of breaking the ice to make me feel more comfortable while we prepare for our momentous experience that will occur in the operating room around 9:35am.  My thoughts are clear and calm, capturing only images of your face and thinking of only the wonderful things that will happen in the next couple of hours.   After  taking a quick bathroom break to empty my bladder and right before the clock strikes 9am, nurse Jackie walks along side me down a long hallway to a room where you will be delivered.  Daddy waits by himself behind two big doors leading to this room, wearing his head-to-toe white scrub. A twenty-minute preparation time in this room containing at least 6 doctors and nurses whose priority is to deliver you safely, is twenty minutes too long for your daddy to handle as nervousness builds up inside of him.  With a few minutes to spare before your arrival, your daddy enters the room with sweaty palms ready to greet you when  you enter this world.  At 10:06am, a soft cry exerts from your tiny mouth, you present yourself with great ease and confidence. Weighing in at 8lbs and 3oz and 21 inches long, you are one healthy baby and the connection between us has already taken place.  A doctor holds you upside down hanging from your two strong feet, your daddy and I get a quick glimpse of you behind a blue curtain, seeing only your bloody body and faint facial features. Voices from all the doctors and nurses echoing the room with comments about your beautiful eyes.  My exhaustion has subsided and a burst of energy comes over me as I become more anxious to see your face and hold you close to me.  Laying quietly on your daddy's bare chest, you share with him your first skin-to-skin experience that will strengthen your bond with one another, a bond that can never be taken from you.   You are everything we have prayed for and your daddy and I are two very proud parents.  We look forward to sharing our lives with you.  You have already affected us in ways words can never describe. We love you with everything we have. 

Check list

10/15/12 I never believed in preparing too early as I didn't want to be too excited too soon.  But as your arrival day is approaching, I feel more confident and have a legitamit reason to be excited.  With almost five weeks to go and an energy level of a 90-year-old, our long check-off list remains unfulfilled, leaving more to be checked off than checked.  Today I'm reminded my your powerful kicks that I should get some things checked off.  Nowadays, nothing beats me up more than extreme hot weather and since the local forecast for the city of Fountain Valley is 84 degrees, my mom and I head out to Babies R Us earlier than usual -9:20am.  Being the first customers at the store, gives us plenty of room to browse and time to decide, we make our way down every single aisle.  Scheming through all the necessities from  feeding bibs and bottles  to accessories like breast feeding pillow and burping towel, reading every label and fine prints.  Little by little, we fill up the cart with baby blankets, bibs, bed time wraps, and other things we absolutely need.  Before the temperature increases to the point of discomfort for me, we head to one more store followed by lunch before heading home.  Although only a few items were checked off the list, we feel accomplished and look forward to checking off a few more next week. 

Jewel's cocktail shower

11/4/12 Daylight saving time ends today, but the extra hour of sleep will be the perfect kick start to our new family routine with your birth drawing near. At 88 degrees, clear sky and sunny, 3 Thirty 3's view of Newport Harbor is a dream backdrop for a baby shower hosted by Angie Gately  and Lindsey Carter.

Clusters of pink and mylar printed helium balloons hung against the seamless glass window over looking the harbor,  lemon and white cream cheese frosting cupcakes from Susie's artistically placed on the table top, garnished  with hand made mini gardens add a nice touch to this unconventional cocktail baby shower.  Along with mimosas and cocktails, my favorite guys and gals  arrive to celebrate your upcoming debut. This is one baby shower most people want but very few will ever experience. 

 Just a week and a half ago, as I was driving away from my weekly appointment with Marie De La Torre, the midwife at Kaiser, I learned that you were breech and a possibility of a C-Section may have to take place.  The news was shocking and took me for a surprise.  I was disappointed and scared as this is not in our birthing plan. Two hours a day, three day a weeks of Child Birth Classes at Hoag Hospital and we still managed to ignore all information related to cesarean section. It was never an option for us. I had this vivid image of having you naturally with the help of epidural.  However, the long drive home encouraged me to think about you and how you have taken such good care of me throughout this journey.  Because of this, I knew that you must know what is best for me.  And so I trust you with all my heart.

Today, as we celebrate you and your safe arrival into our lives, I have embraced this surgical procedure and trust that everything is going to go the way that it should. The happiness and well wishes from our close friends have brought me to a place of contentment and fearlessness.  Now it's just a few days away and I just cannot wait. 

 Baby Jewels, I am ready to welcome you into this world and give you the gentle protection and support that you've been giving me.  Thanks to you the new found  sense of confidence and power that I have recently tacked on is unlike anything I've ever experienced.  See you soon!! 

35 weeks

Today is Thursday and it marks your 35th week of gestation.  It is one of the hottest days of the week, 82 degrees, yet the sun is still hidden from the dreary sky and occasional gust of wind and extreme humidity makes it feel as if a storm is on its way.  The month of October has its unusual perks, but it doesn't stop us from accomplishing goals we have set out to do. 

 With the presidential debates between Mitt Romey and Barack Obama in the process, the filming of The Hang Over 3 in Newport beach happening this weekend,  and the Cardinals in the running for a  possible win of the World Series for the second time, your daddy and I remain focused, making our house into a home.  Just five weeks from now, we will no longer be living as husband and wife, but as a family.  Your daddy's first attempt at plumbing, the installation of a brand new faucet set from Kohler, is slowly coming to completion. He is determined to make it perfect, and for that I am so proud. Although our new floor installation had a few dilemmas, our trusted contractor, Ka is over at our house right now fixing it.

As October comes to a close, our seemingly continuous tasks will too and we know that one day soon we can all congregate on the couch, cuddle, and watch a funny movie together as a family.  

Almost 5 weeks left

10/15/12 I never believed in preparing too early as I didn't want to be too excited too soon.  But as your arrival day is approaching, I feel more confident and have a legitimate reason to be excited.  With almost five weeks to go and an energy level of a 90-year-old, our long check-off list remains unfulfilled, leaving more to be checked off than checked.

Today I'm reminded my your powerful kicks that I should get some things checked off.  Nowadays, nothing beats me up more than extreme hot weather and since the local forecast for the city of Fountain Valley is 84 degrees, my mom and I head out to Babies R Us earlier than usual -9:20am.  Being the first customers at the store, gives us plenty of room to browse and time to decide, we make our way down every single aisle.  Scheming through all the necessities from  feeding bibs and bottles  to accessories like breast feeding pillow and burping towel while reading every label and fine prints.  Little by little, we fill up the cart with baby blankets, bibs, bed time wraps, and other things we absolutely need.  Before the temperature increases to the point of discomfort for me, we head to one more store followed by lunch before heading home.

Although only a few items were checked off the list today, we feel accomplished and look forward to checking off a few more next week. 

Juliette

Today I pay more attention to your name, what it will be, what it means and how it can shape your character.  Of course a name is merely a name and no studies have shown that it will determine how one will turn out.  But in the unlikely case that it can influence the development your character, we hope to discover a name that will be equivalent to who you will become. 

From Scarlett to Kelly to Lauren, the only name that has since captured my love is Juliette. With no correlation to Shakespeare's  romantic novel Romeo and Juliet, I fell in love with it for reasons I hope you will embrace.  

To me, the name Juliette illustrates a woman with soft physical features and elegant by nature.  The  romantic sounding of the name immediately gives an image of a delicate silk gown that is draped lightly over the curvature of her shapely body. And she moves with great ease and class. But don't be fooled by her feminine physical features as Juliette's contradicting inner features will introduce a perfect balance to her personal identity.  

 With a soul urge number 8, which is your inner cravings and urges, you are naturally constructed with many strong characteristics.  For one, your deep desire to lead and organize will help you set and accomplish many goals.  Your determination to achieve  power and status will guide you to a place of wealth and when you are in that place, I wish you will be grateful and maintain a compassionate and loving nature which will in turn provide you with unconditional happiness.  Just remember that whatever you decide to do, stay humble and place happiness (for yourself as well as others) as your priority.  

Thursdays

10/4/12

Thursdays

Despite the escalated back pain prohibiting me from long walks, the new mole-like extra skin growing on my neck, and every hour on the hour bathroom break in the middle of the night, thoughts of getting to see your precious face makes it all worth while.  As my body continues to develop outward with round plump toes, puffy fingers and a growing belly button that was once an innie, I continue to enjoy every second of feeling your rolls and kicks.   Even though  my weakened body and forgetful mind has taken the best of me, the last eight months of carrying you around has been the best time of my life.  

 My cravings have evolved from sour green apples dipped in heavy sea salt to various Vietnamese soup noodles to ice cream cones to Mc Donald's french fries accompanied by two containers of hot mustard, all of which I have enjoyed in a sparingly manner. Every day I load my body up with at least 3 cups of Silk Almond or Soy milk, a banana, an apple or strawberries, omega 3, and two prenatal pills just to ensure you're developing at a normal pace.  I no longer see food as food, I see it for what it's worth - its nutritional values.  I no longer eat for me, I now eat solely for you. 

Your daddy's attentive and caring nature has made this pregnancy that much more pleasurable for me.  Occasional ten-minute foot massages,  regular house chore activities, and feeding my serious cravings by allowing me to eat the entire large french fries from Mc Donald's all by myself has relieved me from some weird pregnancy symptoms. As I reach the end of this journey, all I can think about is the actual time of giving birth to you and how that thought has given me doubts of whether I can go through with it.  Along with all the prenatal classes are detailed stories I've heard from friends and family about the delivery process,  both has heighten my sense of uncertainty and lowered my confidence.  I'm not sure if your daddy has recognized my fear, but he has done a great job trying to lessen my fear of delivery by conveying to me how easy this all will be and how it will all happen quickly and painlessly.  He has also provided me with relaxing weekend get-aways to the desert and sweet endearing comments that makes me feel beautiful. without your daddy, I think this journey would not be as smooth.

Today we celebrate your 33rd weeks of gestation with a double order of Mc D's french fries and a movie called Baby Boom.  We talk about you all the time and we are counting down the days until we get to meet you. And to make sure you arrive to a clean house and a beautiful room filled with everything you need, we are working extra hard and fast to have a brand new wood floor replaced and installed before your arrive. We think you will really enjoy it.  This is just the first of many wonderful things we anticipate doing for you.

You are our first and the love we have in stored for you has magnified beyond measure.  We love you dearly and will sacrifice everything for you.  

See you in roughly seven weeks!

I want to meet u

7/30/12 Our maternity photo shoot is scheduled for tomorrow evening with Andrew Lombardi and rather than planning our outfits and  background setting, all I can think about is what this journey into motherhood means to me, how it has affected us as future parents,  and our hopes for you as our daughter to be.

 There are no words that can express what I'm going through and there isn't exactly a drawn out plan as to how this special occasion can be completed in a way that is perfect.  All of our hopes and dreams for you will begin with a simple prayer.  I think of you often and I think about the way you take care of me, especially during the most chaotic time of my life - the marriage between your daddy and I.  Your silent comfort inside of me has provided me strength to coordinate a wedding I never knew I could have, so ideal and so dreamy.  Because of this, the extra pounds of weight gain, wide hips, soften thick thighs and puffy feet that I am enduring for the first time in my life are all being compensated for.  My girlish figure will forever be gone and a new voluptuous shape will be my new forceful embrace.  And I do this all for you.

    It has been 23 weeks since your conception and every day that passes, your subtle movements grow into mini kicks and punches which naturally intensifies a feeling of connection between us. Everyday I wish you would kick me a little harder just so I can feel you, just so your daddy can feel you, just so  we both know you are healthy and growing.  I look forward to the day you kick me with tremendous power, leaving me with pains I can smile for days.

You have brought me a profound sense of happiness that I never knew existed and a much needed value for love will forever change your daddy's view of life and possible of women as a whole.  We owe this next level of humanitarian experience to you. Often I think about your distinguished features intermixed between two different cultures, your values as well as your personal character.  The tint of your olive skin against your pale brown hair and bright hazel almond -shaped eyes or your light creme skin against your chocolate brown hair and dreamy eyes will never determine your personal character.  You will discover your own unique self, become an individual that will shine through this dense population that co-exists with you.  It is the collective values between your daddy and I that will help guide you through the tough road of the real world, ensuring a stable and succeeding life for you.

  I try to picture your precious face, but I can't. All I can see is the gorgeous little girl with blonde braids at the super market earlier today.  I want you in my arms so I can smell you, but I can't.  All I can smell is the scent of your daddy's hard work at the office sitting next to me.   I want to look you in the eyes and tell you that you are my number one, but I can't. Because if I did, your daddy will be too jealous.  I want to tell you that even though I have never met you and don't know what your name will be, I will always love you.  

 Our decisions as parents-to-be and our future together as first-time family will automatically  change because of you.  You are a blessing to us and every decision we've made thus far, including the conception of you, has been the best decision we have made together and it has brought us incredible joy and closeness - forever.

Sunniest Easter Sunday

It is 9:59am, 55 degrees outside, hazy and rainy as I am nestling  under a hair dryer near the back of the salon where I can hide from my fellow workmates until my next client arrives.  As I quiet my mind, fragmented images of Angels stadium, Universal Studios Hollywood, Katsuya Sushi in Laguna Beach, and  Sprinkles cupcakes all race its way into my thoughts, stirring it ever so lightly.  I realize my Easter weekend was jam packed with unforgettable events and celebrations.   Let's back track to  the most gorgeous Easter sunday one could ever wake up to.  We were granted with an amazing sunshine and impeccable uplifting mood swings. There was no church, no easter egg hunting, just breakfast at JD Schmidt,  the baseball game, a few lolly pops and frozen lemonade, and lots of Angels surround our presence. Our day was blessed with so much joy and happiness.   Following Easter was Dan's first visit to Universal Studios, best known for their unavoidable lines and screaming kids, where we ventured through a couple of rides and a few I unimpressive shows.  Even with a late start, showing up at the gate around 12:30PM, just a short six hours later, our bodies were destroyed of enthusiasm and fun sucked dry from our body, forcing us to conclude our day early with Shrek 4D.  With four extra visits left on our ticket, we were in no rush to complete all the rides or see any more mediocre shows.  We headed home bound.   Fast forward our weekend to Dan's midweek  birthday, April the 11th, marking his second year celebration with me.  Our day started out with the typical work load and Katsuya, a fancy sushi restaurant serving Kobe beef in Laguna beach awaits us sometime in the evening.  Locking ourselves into a dinner reservation would've been too restricting for our liking, so we purposely left it open to feed our free-flowing spirits.  We arrived at the restaurant close to 7PM and and left a little after 8.  We headed for Broadway, a restaurant recommended by a good client of mine, for their signature desserts and coffee. But our timing was off, they had reserved the entire restaurant for a private party, so we were left with a back-up plan that I had intuitively set up - red velvet Sprinkles Cupcakes hiding in the small refrigerator hidden underneath the wet bar.  Dan was thrilled.   It was a long weekend to recap, but it was too significant to not blog about.  It went by too fast. Here I am, the week has propelled to Friday and even though the weekend is starting all over again, it will never be the same as weekend we had before.  

Stuffed men, children & cousins

I turned down a weekly meeting today, to take care of things that prove to be priority in my life this exactly moment in time,  my cousin and her family.  While our house isn't exactly the first reason for their visit to California, where  Universal Studios took top priority in this scenario as the kids are on spring break and costco's 5-days-for-$59-value is hard to pass up, they thoughtfully added us to their chaos schedule to come over and have  a meal with us. For this, I am grateful.  To hold me over, the first part of my day consists of coffee, instant udon noodle, gardening, and Andrew Zimmern's "Jamaica" Travel.  The day travels slowly as I finish up Jamaica and head out to a much sweeter place, Cinnabon!  Half a dozen and nearly three pounds of dough, baked and coated with creamy frosting will be coming back home with me before 6 this evening.   One by one, my cousin Van, Derek, and three kids march into the house, each with either a family pack of OC grown strawberries, roasted chicken, caesar's salad, cheese and salami plate, two loafs of garlic bread and a super size pepperoni pizza.  Throw in a bottle of Pinot Noir and this is one fat feast you wouldn't want to miss.  Even Dan knew to force things at work to finish early so he can join us at a decent time. With Derek's willingness to wait for him  before diving in,  Dan is gauranteed to have a eating partner.   NCAA Finals dominates the house as the two newly acquainted men blab about stuff I can care less about while Chase shows me his white to green belt Kung Fu techniques, Christian and Kellen rests their tired bodies on the coach, and Van rambles in the kitchen - getting things tidy. Cinnabon cleans our palate and fills the sugar tooth, making it another satisfying and stuffed night.  

A fully loaded day

One load, two loads, three loads of laundry, washed and folded, David Tutera's "My Fair Wedding", and Oprah Winfrey's Life Class in St. Louis all took place while Dan was out running an important errand. Coming from a Carribean Cruise,  my brother Nate and his family will be arriving thirty-five minutes earlier than the scheduled time at LAX. Arriving at 5:20 this evening, Dan and I will aim for their house beforehand to snatch the family van before heading to the airport.

 Once, twice and three times, we circle the Southwest terminal, killing time until their baggage is claimed and they are awaiting curbside to be picked up.  After receiving a gestured approval from the airport security, Dan pulls the mini van tightly to the curb and opens the door to some happy-to-be-home faces that have been missed for a week. Baggage and people are all safely loaded into the van, we squeeze our way out of this busy airport and head to a broken rice restaurant in Little Saigon.

 The 405 freeway flowed with great ease like a ballerina performing an allegro, swaying us effortlessly to a restaurant where each person filled their starving tummies with  broken rice and I slurped every once of the wanton soup noodle.  With loaded stomaches, the van becomes snug as we crowd ourselves back inside and head to the final destination - Asbury Circle.

The pick up was a success. Although Dan and I didn't have even the smallest room in our tummies to fit a Jolly Rancher icey dessert from  Tebot, we did have room in our night to cram in a movie - "Boogie Nights".

Two tumbling weeds

Going with the flow like a tumble weed carried by the wind, flying freely and happily in mid-air, open to hit a light pole in its way or settle peacefully on the side of the road is essentially our nightly dinner plans since the apron got hung.

This evening, we are blown to Aztec Mexican Restaurant in Fountain Valley and settle peacefully for about an hour.   Two tequitos, two mini tacos, two Budweisers, and some chips & salsa make for a deliciously ripped off dinner special offered tonight.  It filled our cravings and hit the desperate spot, but the quality and price ratio didn't make any sense to us.  The best part about our meals was the refreshing, thirst quenching and ever so satisfying Budweiser.  We paid the bill with a big smile and  hope the wind doesn't blow in that direction ever again.

 We tumble off to Ralph's to pick up some munchies and a movie and aim to land at our house where we can get comfortable and watch "Young Adults".  The movie was hair-pulling and agitatingly slow.  We squeal and shriek in agonizing pain at every word vocalized by the main character.  There is no possible way to relate to her.  Her character is immoral and no body in their right mind should leave a loving live-in boy friend, a successful job in the big city to go home to their small home town to try and rekindle with an old boy friend who is now happily married and have a newborn. It is  just wrong.  We endured the  pain, finished the movie,  and finally understood the hidden message.  It wasn't as bad as we had thought and for what it's worth, we understand how it can make our lives a little bit better.

 Tomorrow we will tumble some more, flying aimlessly, open to settle or hit anything that is in our way.  We will enjoy it, and we prefer it this way for now.

My flavored chair

If I try to tally up all of the meaningful, important tasks that needs to be completed during my week of spring break, the result would be quite disappointing.  There are some tasks I skipped over, others I haven't gotten to, and yet some extra credits I never expected to do, but did.  Needless to say, I haven't fulfilled any goals I have laid out for this week.

Two tasks I can check off  (more than once)  are "doing nothing" and "blogging" from the list.   Another one I can  check off is to get acquainted with the kitchen, but next to it is a side note that says, "failed miserably".  And when the kitchen isn't  accepting my creative flavors, I take it straight to the salon, where this creative release can take place and where my clients can fully benefit.  And today, I take it out on Jamie Miller.

  Miss Miller and I go way back. When she needed a stylist who is willing to transform her mid-back length to a modern bob eight years ago, she chose me.  When her work friend needed a new hairstylist to take care of her hair needs, she referred me.  Today, in the early morning, I received a text message requesting a new look and attached was a photo of a Chanel ad campaign with a model sporting a modern pixie cut -it was a text message from her.  I was honored.

 Since we are both busy with our own clients, three thirty is the only time that fits both of our schedules.  With hair washed, combed and caped, she settles into my chair as if she is an official client.  Gathered around us are some of my favorite salon- mates. The energy from the crowd rises like the Staple Center hosting a Prince Concert, loud conversations floats all around us, as I open with a first cut - clean and precise.  This initial guideline led me to finish the entire head without any mistakes. Having most of her blondest blonde wet hair piled on the floor, I power dry her hair to shape it against her head, making it more visible and easier to detail to its finished look.

 Melting both Gennifer Goodwin and Michelle Williams styles together, we have created Miss Miller's unique, one-and-only sassy short.  She wears the style better than anyone I've seen, with complete confidence and sex appeal.   Tonight, I will go home, make hot wings, pasta salad, and finally hang my apron for a while.  If I'm not creating in the kitchen, I know "the chair" will always be there to feed my creativity.

Please turn the page

As I pop my upper body out of bed and reach to turn on the light, I finish up the last sentence on page 13,179 of my autobiography, I lick my right forefinger, turn the page,  and continue to write at the 7:09 AM mark.  Dan is standing in front of the mirror, fixing his hair over and over again and admiring himself with pouty model-like lips, and I remember  today is  day two of having absolutely no obligations, at least none that really matters in my book anyway. It's like taking a sick day from the office except I'm not sick and I don't work in an office.

 Clear broth made from one whole chicken - a 4-pounder- with carrots, onions, star-shaped noodles and herbs I found in the spice cabinet, is leftover chicken soup that feeds the purpose for this morning's let's-get-spoiled-all-day day.  Miranda July is helping me through this nonchalant day and I am grateful for her.

 My legs feel tired and restless.  How is this right when all I've been doing is  a ton of nothing.  My body is not much better either, it feels like an over cooked noodle, ready to dissolve at a gentle touch of a tongue.  I care very little about this issue and go about my day. 

A phone call comes through and it is the cable guy informing me about his arrival in fifteen minutes.  I get myself off the couch, place Miranda facing down on the glass table and freshen up the living room area so that it doesn't smell like chicken soup but rather "super orange" window cleaner.  The guy, slender and fairly short -  well compared to Dan everybody is short - dark skin and quarter inch long hair that was probably cut in his bathroom using a guarded electric razor, is delicate and speaks very slowly as if he is slightly "special".  His electrical knowledge seems to be that of someone with their Bachelor's Degree. Or just someone who was well trained from the DirecTv company themselves.  He is bright and I am confident he will make us happy.

  I'm sitting in a wicker chair in the family room, reading a California State University of Fullerton packet, I can hear the first sound coming out of the tv and it is The Price Is Right.  The tv is working! Juan Tellez Jr., who has been replacing new cables and configuring satellite for over two and a half hours has successfully gotten picture and sound.  He clearly knows what he's doing. He calls me over to educate me on the endless features that DirecTv seems to offer and probably less than half of which we know exists.  I can hear the passion and excitement through his voice and my undivided attention and extreme interest fuels him even more.  I am being  overloaded with information, some of which went over my head.

 After a reviving shower, I make myself a greeny drink, sit myself back on the couch, and turn the channel to, you guessed it, Bizzar Food with Andrew Zimmer, "Mongolian" Travel.  Mongolian's gruesome goat's head delicacies, carcass soup, and milk cured fried up in its own fat has turned even my favorite refreshing drink into something of a molding milk.  I gagged at every gulp I take.  I have never been more disgusted and grossed out.   I suck up the nausea, morning-sickness-feeling, and no, I am not pregnant, I finish my drink.  I pick Miranda up from the table and dig my face between the pages once again. It isn't even noon yet, but so far the day his been satisfactory and nonchalantly beautiful. And in just a few hours I will yet turn another page.

Homemade chicken soup

As of last night, after a 15-minute phone call to a DirectTv technician resulted in a three-day shot down of our service, an 8 AM to Noon service appointment (tomorrow), and a useless twelve-dollar reimbursement.  We are cut from any broadcasted shows or movies for three days. Since operating the Play Station isn't my cup of tea, I am decapitated from all dvd's too.

 So this morning, I sip on my yummy coffee and stare off into space, with silence all around me, making me aware that I am trapped! The Blackberry Play book is useful for research and reading emails, but typing up anything on there requires twenty extra fingers and patience made of steel.  The only computer accessibility  is way back in the beatlab where computer utilization is only fun when Dan is around and Deejays his favorite jams from Spotify.  Now I can truly understand his frustration with being poorly connected throughout the house, especially when we are paying top dollar every single month.  

 Looks like I will be spending some time out of the house today, but I can't think of what to do. My 11 O' Clock standing nail appointment will kick start my day, then I suppose I can browse the asian market for produce I've been dying to roast, blend and drink.  And while I'm at it, i can hang a right at the green sign that says "Fresh & Easy" to redeem my $5 off coupon with purchase of $25 that expires tomorrow, and I have to remember it doesn't apply to dairy products. I never understood this restriction, and each time I use this coupon, I read and re-read this restriction, hoping they will change it but they never do.  Even though  it bothers me, I never do anything about it and shop anyway. 

 With a trunk full of produce, rib-eye, prawns, eggs and fresh fruit, just to name a few, I park the car in the garage in reverse for easy unloading. There is no way I will make it through a full day at home without tv, so I make my technical call to my personal IT, mister Dan Sheahan.  Within less than three minutes over the phone, he voice directed me to successfully play the Movie, "Titanic".    This movie always managed to make my heart hurt and my dreams become nightmares, yet I never deny it whenever there is a chance to watch it. This time, it happened to be in the pile of DVD s that I had randomly grabbed from the movies cabinet.  I do admit, I've never watched this movie alone. And today is the first. 

 While chicken noodle soup made from scratch with one whole chicken is simmering on the stove and cooked pasta noodles is cooling, my deserving body is resting on the couch, and my attention is now given to this 3-hour long movie.  I'm not too worried about this DirectTv shananigan, I'm just going to focus and enjoy having absolutely no obligations until 8AM tomorrow.

Bouquet of colorful humanitarians

Often times we get too self absorbed, become sucked into the world of materialism and forget about the less fortunate. When it does dawn on us, our guilty conscience forces us to give a dollar to the man who stands on the side of a busy exit off the 405 freeway holding a 'homeless' sign. We hardly plan ahead or purposely do something good for the sake of doing something good.

 This morning, if you follow the yellow tide dyed balloons after you've parked your car in the parking structure, you will find yourself  at the Hampton salon where home stylists are donating their time and talent to raise money to fill containers of hope that gets shipped to all parts of Africa.  Loud  music, mountains of bagels, donuts and cookies, assorted gourmet coffee and cream, and champagne, are just the bare essentials to jump start the Container Of Hope Fundraising event hosted by our very own Hampton Salon, and coordinated by Alex Abston and Lindsey Carter.

 Generating eight hours of beauty and fun, concession stands selling hair accessories and custom jewelry add tones of color and festivity throughout and the salon.  For those stylists who aren't too cool to do free haircuts or willing to sacrifice one day away from their family, pitched in to serve either a four-hour or eight-hour shift, and in my case, I will be scissoring from 8AM til noon.  

 With bright blonde hair, dense, but soft and fragile on the ends, Chandra, a loyal client's friend, requested that I cut her hair without shampooing.  So smoothing the hair with several strokes using my comb, I start and end the haircut in one single snip. That is record for being the easiest haircutting donation I have ever done.

 To change up the pace, I am given Shirley who has jet black hair, stiff & straight, and length reaching the middle of her bum. Instead of wanting a small trim, she salivates over a complete make-over, shortening of half the length, accentuating with soft layers all around and fringe swept to the side. Exceeding her expectations, she gives me her trust and future business - expecting to make herself a future appointment for a body wave perm.

  Little Elle, a 10-year-twin, ice-hockey-player, petite and dainty, closes my day with bouncy curls and a bright smile.  Her glimmering hazel eyes sparkled as she smiles and thanks me.  After four haircuts, half a donut, champaign, and endless mingles with the walk-in clients, I have laid the perfect pathway for my day. 

 Arriving home to an empty house, I knew right away that Dan is out to run a few errands.  This is my chance to squeeze in some "me time".  In less that 15 minutes, just enough time for me to slip into around-the-house sweat clothes, Dan comes barging in, and in his hand is a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.  Extending his arm straight at me, he says," just to say I love you".  when all else fails, give a dollar to the man holding a homeless sign or better yet, a bundle of colorful flowers will do the job.   This act of kindness will hold you over for a little while.

Bladed lips

 Crusty, scaley lips are never  comfortable, what's worst, they are undeniably unattractive when kissed by a man with softer and gentler lips.  So to maintain sexiness, you better soften up or your lips or they will be traded out.  I wake up this morning with some bladed lips, and my master plan is to  soften them at all cost.

 Today I struggle to beat the short arm on the clock, and  with each tick working towards the number 9, I am held firmly at the house, unable to make my 9:30 appointment on time for reasons I wish I can control. I decide to voluntarily surrender to time and everything else that is evolved around me, and in the mean time, I will keep applying moisture to treat these crackling lips, turning them into irresistible creme brûlée.

I rush home after a short day at work to doze off for a well-needed twenty-minute nap before we head to Mahe Restaurant in Seal Beach where we will meet Dan's aunt  Sue and uncle Ken.  I haven't yet met a relative of Dan's who isn't warm and welcoming. They  were all of that and more. This sets a great tone for our family reunion oriented wedding taken place in a few month.

 Conditioning my lips are taking a positive effect and I can already feel the results.  These lips will be revamped and transformed into ultra soft and luscious , making them undeniably sexy and kissable again.

Banging bangs

After indulging in a banging transformation taken place at the salon, my cousin Van agrees to a happy hour cocktail and some small plates at Charlie Palmer, a restaurant inside of Bloomingdale's at South Coast Plaza. We found a high table farthest away from the entrance, underneath a 70-inch flat screen, and to settle ourselves in, we climbed into the wooden stools, mimicking  two 2-year-old little girls being picked up by our parents from under the armpits and adjusting their warped  behinds to fit into a booster seat.  We apparently left our legs at home today.

 And with an appetite of two hungry hippos, we rage the menu not minding the limited space our table is capable of holding.  On top of the table is a framed list that offers a large selection of small plates and in a black folder are a variety of cocktails and wines to choose from.  Allowing my cousin to have first look at the food list, I chose my wine - a Pinot Noir.   As I tell her my first pick from the menu- a pulled pork lettuce wraps, I ask for her pick, and with great enthusiasm she points directly at Confit Duck gizzard. My facial expression was that of a little kid being fed purée broccoli and spinach soup, regurgitating as her mom spoons it into her mouth.  We both burst into attention grabbing laughter, agreed to it and added  several more dishes to our order from Roxy, the waitress.

 In addition to the gizzards, plates of prochiutto with chicken liver pâté and pork liver pâté, bacon wrapped dates and flat bread pizza all arrive shortly after the order was taken. We are ready for one wild happy hour.   Rush hour traffic off the 91 freeway is always bumper-to-bumper before 7PM on a Friday evening, still having at least another hour to kill, we drive over to XXI for a quick shopping spree before she hops on the freeway and head into the sunset - or to Palm Desert.

  Van, reluctant to head out without getting caffeinated, we navigate through the parking lot to find a Starbucks, where a coffee was successfully bought and hopefully drank during her 3-hour mini road trip.  Wish I could've gone with her, for a min vacation.  My cousin's banging transformation made my day a special one.

smell of chardonay floral dress

Today I curl my hair with a wand, which is my favorite styling tool at the moment -I find that it is the easiest way to polish hair in very little time - dress myself in a red dress with delicate floral prints and a short-length & light-weight jacket to go over it like a cardigan, and knee-high boots to compensate the shortness of the dress. The grey color from the jacket and boots were meant to soften the red floral dress, which I think is doing just that. The smell of spring time finally dominates my senses this morning and I am ready to start the day.
My schedule is filled up at the salon, starting with Andy Truong at 9AM followed by Kathy Baily then I will wrap it up and head straight to my second exam in the Lewis Build. Once the exam is completed, I head right back to the salon where I will close up at 7PM.
Kathy's hair took 15 minutes longer to finish than I had planned, so with her permission and going against my own work ethics, I leave her in my chair to flat iron her pixie hairstyle. Parking became increasingly difficult as I am pressing for time and with no time to spare for a quick review of the test, my nervous system heightens.

My laziness and "this class is too easy" attitude is surely catching up to me. Muscles tighten in my neck as I try to understand a related rates problem referring to the pythagorean therom. I circled the best answer I knew and moved on to the next. And even though I mastered differentiation on all of the homeworks, I blanked on number 15. This exam has brought me back to earth and grounded me - no longer will I be too good to study.

The smell of Spring fades and the fruity Chardonay takes over. I arrive home after partaking in a few more hours of work. The sliding door from the family room is unlocked and slightly open. For the first time, Dan commuted using his mountain bike, headed to our neighborhood park where he hoops with 13 others - every Thursday. All I can think about is his arrival home soon, when he will cook up a frozen DiGiorno's pizza to perfection. And our bottle of wine opened and aired, we will munch, drink, watch American Idol and try to forget about the day.

Whether I like it or not, Spring is here and I am free from any math obligations for one full week. The only numbers I care to count is how many glasses of wine I will intake tonight, and loving every single one of them.

Permission to graduate

"Excuse me, where is the Graduation Office", I asked politely.  A young man with skin as flawless as a baby's butt, who sits behind an information booth at the Watson Hall, eager to help, answers, "see that grey wall over there, go pass that and it will be on the right."  "Thanks", I replied with gratefulness.

While I recognize the deadline for this application was missed by six days, I am hopeful that someone in this office is having a good day; that they were hugged, kissed and loved by their spouse before leaving the house this morning, and in their lunch bag, they found a heart-shaped truffle and a note saying "I love you".  This is the kind of day that would fully benefit others around them, specifically mine.

The lady at the window has a homely face, hair is rich dark chocolate and unkept, skin is perfectly roasted and a smile so warm, I knew this could be the one who got hugged this morning.  And she was!  It could very well be my desperate voice and saddened eyes that made her heart soften. I'm not sure.  But she granted me the application.  I grab the 3-page stapled form and a pen decorated with some cheesey paper origami and found myself a seat to carefully fill it out, without making any mistakes. Worried that she may change her mind, I power through the form and walk back up to the window.

My warm-hearted lady was replaced by two different ladies whom already seem to know my scammed motive.  One lady quickly glanced at my application and said in a tone of authority, "I see that you are a Business major, in the future, you should meet all deadlines, but this time we will accept it."  Appreciative, I keep my mouth shut, nodded and thanked her.  A rush of unwelcomed obligated responsibilities poured all over me.  I couldn't resist the thought to print a banner that says, " Attention all majors other than Business, you are free to be late on all deadlines and all future meetings, especially the important ones, and everything else in your life".  

Yes, it was a sensitive subject because if the lady knew anything about me, she would know my work ethics and my obsession with being on time to everything.  But I let it not effect me in a way that takes the best of me, instead I will blog my anger away.  I agree with the importance of meeting deadlines, but if you are going to do something nice for someone, please refrain from making them feel guilty or belittling them. It really defeat the purpose.

Regular sized slushy

I could have prepared eggs and toast or cereal and milk or a veggie omelets, instead, grilled hot dog placed along the slit of a bun is dressed with mayo, tomatoes, relish and catchup makes its way on my plate this morning.  It is not an item you can find on a breakfast menu at any restaurant,  however, when served with a cup of coffee, I'm up for anything the fridge has to offer.  This is by far one of the weirdest breakfast food I've ever prepared at home.  That's not to say I don't like weird food because I do.  Dan would rather starve than settle for anything out of the ordinary.

 I was notified by dedicated Facebookers that today is the first day of Spring.  From what I can tell through the window, it is bright and sunny and the temperature is just perfect where I am sitting - on the floor at the coffee table located in front of the tv. There are flash cards and lecture notes scattered all over the table top while my butt is numbing and legs are cramming underneath it.   My parents are anticipating their 7-day-Caribbean Cruise next week, making their first stop in Houston, and departing on Thursday. So tonight my haircutting duty is requested at the Truong's for quick touch-ups and  trims.

 Megan, my 8-year old  niece welcomed me to her house with a Slushy Magic, a make-it-yourself-slushy with any flavor of your choice.  Just add your  favorite soda,  she chose Mountain Dew, and instant flavored slush equivalent to a Slurpy from 7-Eleven, is ready to cool your mouth. It was thoughtful and tasted refreshing as we both bundle up under a fur throw while we look at her newly created blog from her dad's laptop.

 Leaving  my mother's house is never easy, bags and bags of home cooked meals gets smuggled into the trunk of my car.  I never have enough hands to manage the bags full of food.  It's like going grocery shopping to last a week, but instead of using a cart, you push around only your hands. The items over flow and you fumble uncontrollably.  That was me leaving my mom's house.

 I'm now on the couch once again, with Dan next to me watching "Just Go With It", as I flip through note cards to prepare for my exam on Thursday.  I'm not quite confident with the material, but that's because I haven't quite invested adequate time to studying.   I am satisfied with my day so far,  school, food, family and Danny to end the night. What else can I ever ask for.

Print me a mango & a comb

I went to bed last night having wedding invitations lingering in my head. I opted for the enticing bed rather than finish up the last couple of prints. The completed invitations would have saved me the frustration this morning.

The beautiful, 3-month-old Canon printer was working divinely when I turned it on at 7:00 AM and printed some practice sheets, but on the last run, it decided to get paper jammed and took its last breath in my presence. I strongly felt the printer was remorseful of my decision to leave it last night when I chose my bed over it. I tried everything I could to revive it, I even tried to throw it against the wall, nothing worked. That was the end of my printing excursion. I packed up all of the stationary and prepared for plan B, whatever that may be.

My coffee cup is filled to the brim, making it my second cup for the morning, and eggs heating up in the stove oven. If I couldn't get the damn invitations to print, the least I could do is get something to eat. This will fuel my body and get me ready for a hairstyling meeting that is waiting for me at 10AM, followed by a visit to the photography studio to secure our date, and finally the tailor.

I was introduced to something new today. It is a new invention that takes haircutting to the next level. Over the years, haircutting industry encompasses lines and sections, precision and classic cuts, editorial & commercial, avant guarde, as well as fashion integration. But it neglected one segment of the foundation that even Vidal Sassoon was missing. Focusing mainly on the "the missing link", is Joaquin Regalado's genius invention, the engineering aspect of hairdressing -The Comb.

I've seen The Comb once before, but never as closely and well examined as I did today. It is approximately 8 inches in length and its architecture is no different than the conventional comb, its unique leveling tool is built into the comb to provide accurate haircuts that require measuring of 0 degree, 45 degrees, and 90 degrees relative to the ground. I am now the proud owner of The Comb and a couple of education DVDs.

This is a beautiful tool and it is something that I am currently intrigued about and will spend the next few weeks studying it, becoming more familiar with it, really owning it, and using it on my clients. I will then decide how I like it and whether it is something I can integrate into my client world as well as the creative world.

It is 3:00 pm and there are a couple more things I'd like to complete before Dan's arrival home at 7:30pm. My printing frustration escalated even more compared to this morning. And I have conluded the printer was cheaply produced, and I am determined to not blame myself for once. I am now craving a ripe mango that is cooling in the veggie draw. The rest of my day remains at home and I'm looking forward to it and can't wait to see Dan later.

A Skill I do not own

It's just a few minutes past 1PM, the house is empty, the dishes rinsed clean of spinach & mushroom omelette that was served with a little too much salt, stacked in the dishwasher, and one completed math homework abandoned on the dining room table, I make my way to the couch for a mini break. "Autumn in New York" is my movie of choice, realizing that I may not have time to finish the entire movie, I watch anyways.

Laying on the couch I laid on last night when I listened to the beating rain, instead, I hear the wind roaring loudly like the sound of Dan's voice when DirectTv isn't operating at its best, encouraging the trees to dance aggressively, almost out of control. I can see through the open shutters the leaves from those trees swinging at each other in a rhythmic melody. And the pleasant music from the movie is a perfect complement, making me feel relaxed, yet uneasy.

I daze off for a moment, critiquing my current cooking skills and plotting ways to improve on a skill I never had. I have read a hand full of recipes, know about some common spices, and even how to prepare foods to be cooked on the grill, but apparently this is only enough to satisfy my own taste and no body else'. Rachel Ray's 10-minute meals will only hold us over, but it is a meal prepared with experience, knowledge, and time that will yield maximum happiness to a family. I am determined to gradually improve.

Soon the wind will subside, the movie will end, the floor will be mopped, countertops will sparkle, and math homeworks will be completed. But before my cooking skills will be polished, we will head to Sit n' Sleep and Macy's home store to do some detailed investigation on some of Dan's favorite mattresses made by Stearns & Foster. By the end of the day, we would have laid on every single type of S & F from Luxe Estate to Luxury Latex.

I'd like to end this blog with a quote from the movie, "Food is the only beautiful thing that truly nourishes".

Rain Drops Fallin'

"Rain Drops Keep Fallin' on My Head", written by Hal David and Burt Bacharach in 1969, is for some odd reason the first song that welcomes itself into my empty mind. I haven't heard this song on the radio, nor has it been played on Spotify. I am not sure the reason for its visit, and I don't care. My day happens regardless.

It is 82 degrees ferinheight and sunny in the midwestern part of the U.S., but 54 degrees in the west coast with heavy rain showers lasting the entire weekend. This type of weather behavior is unusual and almost alarming. The weather has switched its roles, playing the part of its opposite, rather than sticking to its predictable forecast patterns.

Thanks to this odd swap of weather, we put on a lazy mood, drive ourselves to the nearest restaurant, Mimi's Cafe, where Dan enjoys a plum sauce pork chop and I enjoy an asparagus chicken asiago spaghettini, accompany by a New Castle and a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. No dishes to wash and no clean-ups, just a reasonable gratuity is all it takes.

Being given a break from the heavy rain, we head over to Alberton's to grab a couple of half-gallon Dryer's ice cream, a couple of 12-pack Guinness, and a few essentials before heading home, where we will nest and watch a movie.

After fiddling with a number of movie channels, we arrive at "Hall Pass", a comedy starring Owen Wilson, where he gets a hall pass from his marriage to do whatever he wants for a week.

This movie entertains us for a couple of hours, while being occasionally interrupted by the rain drops blastin' on the skylight in our kitchen. It is loud and disruptive. This made me think of the song that came into my thoughts today. Laying near the window, I can clearly hear each drop hitting our house beneath it, washing way all the dirt and residue accumulated over the years, cleansing it thoroughly, and feeding the plant life surround the house in the meantime. The movie ends and the entertainment officially begins to the wee hours of the night.

Madness happens at Fuddrucker's

Today I wake up owning only 5 hours of sleep, tiredness takes over me as I feel the subtle Madness rumbling around me. The house is quiet, and through the cracked door, I can hear Dan's conference voice, probably checking off his list of meetings for the day so he can flop himself on the couch and indulge in the twenty basketball games that are all showing simultaneously, and for twenty four hours straight. It is only 8:00am.

DirectTv provides hundreds of channels, most of which are in high definition and each channel is always available to watch at any time of the day. But today for some reason, it decides to freeze for a minute or two. Apparently, the two minutes of freeze time occurred this morning, and I am certainly notified of it by a loud frustrated scream in the living room that travels to the opposite end of the house, reaching the master bathroom where I'm resting over a porcelin toilet. This is when I understand the seriousness of what today will entail.

It is two days into a four-week college basketball championship tournament, and if you have a husband or a boyfriend or a brother, you know this day is as important to a male gender as it is to a female gender giving birth to her first child. This is when men can be men, fill in brackets, bet on their favorite teams, and drink til they can't remember your name. there are countless places that host this special event,NCAA, formally called "March Madness", such as St. Louis, Las Vegas, and New Orleans just to name a few. This tournament has naturally evolved into a

holiday celebrating men and their skills of 'guessing'. With the exception to every rule, Dan for example, has his teams well studied and carefully examined over the years, tracking their scores and records, so his choices are more valid than most of his fellow competitors.

For me, my day is far from madness. March is no other than another month of the year, and it is one month closer to my big day. Today will be easy. A little homework to catch up on, a tasty beer, and dinner with the family. The only madness I will create today is my personalized, killer burger that will happen at 7:00pm at Fuddrucker's in Lake Forest.

Season my day with a sprinkle of time

A note taped to the outside of a blue door that I consistently enter every Tuesdays and Thursdays at 12:45pm had the words "class dismissed" written on it. I am free for the day. Two and a half hours of class time can now be spent doing anything my heart desires.

I've told myself weeks on end that when things start to slow down and I have freed up some time, I would revisit the gym. And this is the first thing on my to-do list today and it is my priority. I'd like to believe that class cancellation is merely a gift of time. Someone above is definitely listening to me and I am lucky enough to recognize it.

Before heading to the gym, I stop by the house to dress myself in some comfortable gym clothes. Pulling up to the drive way, I gave my attention to the lawn and notice it needs some watering. I walk around to the front of the house, and located near the front door is a switch to turn on the sprinkler. A big plastic bag labeled UPS is sitting on the door mat and I knew right away the content that is stuffed inside of it. I have been craving it like I occasionally crave the stuffing of a turkey during the holidays. Just a day prior, in the break room at work, Lori asked me about this package, and my response to her was, "it's been a month and a week and the package hasn't arrived and I haven't received a reply to my concerning email a week ago". I'm excited to text her in a few minutes that it has arrived!

Trying not to be overtly excited, I do a few more things around the house before opening up the package. Inside the package was a lizlock bag protecting a white dress. My hands began to shake and I notice my heart beating faster than normal. Feelings of nervousness and excitement travels throughout my body, and my hands become firm as I straighten out the dress and spread it on the floor.

I can hardly visualize myself wearing it, contouring the shape of my breasts, waistline, and hip. It is almost too beautiful for me. The flowing train is elegant and breath taking. I am more than pleased. This can't be my dress! I couldn't resist the temptation of putting myself inside of it so I can feel the smoothness of the satin wrapping itself around my body. Through a mirror that is being blocked by a table and a chair, I can still make out the shape and over all look of this dress. It is stunning.

I will need my mother and sister Amy to give me a hand in tightening up the sash in the back of the dress in order to see it's true shape and appreciate the crafted details on the dress.

I just finished a fresh veggie drink that I made, and now I am getting ready for the gym. It's barely 2:30 in the afternoon and the secret ingredient that made my day special is time.

stuffy room & ice cold beer

I must have pinched a nerve in my back last night when I climbed on top of Dan to give him a kiss. But the pain in my lower back didn't keep me from weaving in and out of dreams last night.

I can remember one so clearly it feels like I was really there. I was in a small room, it had high windows some of them were closed and others were half open, bright florescent lights, and several rows of mix matched chairs that were awkwardly arranged throughout the room, occupying it from wall to wall. Filling each chair were a mixture of people, all of which were no different from the other. There was a long table placed against a wall near the door, there was nothing on it. The room was stuffy and warm. It was like being sardined in the Underground in London during rush hour and having to be squeezed next to man wearing a suit that hasn't been dry cleaned in years and the odor from his underarm attacked all of my senses.

Sitting almost center amongst the chairs is me, on one side is someone I thought I knew and on the other side is a stranger. In fact, no body in the room looked familiar. At the very front of the room are a row of four chairs facing us and in the chairs are four random people, one sharing a survival story and the other three fueled questions to help with the flow.

The brightness of the room intensified, making me feel like I was on the operating table and the surgeons were performing medical procedures on me while I was awake. It was almost terrifying. The smell was getting worse. I zoned out of the room for a little while as I looked down on my lap, at a notebook that has in it my hand-written notes from a Business Calculus class, I read it. I read it with hopes that I would do well on my midterm next Thursday. I started to envision getting all 19 problems wrong. I was obviously not ready. Losing interest of these math problems, a voice from behind me became clear, it is a girl, and even though I couldnt see her even when I turned my head, she sounded young but not naive, probably in her early 20's. She talked about her own survival story, describing her failed liver and pancreas and nearly died. She explained in details and although I couldn't remember the details, I could remember the pain in her voice. She said clearly that even though she would probably be better off dead, she would still choose life over death if given the choice. Once her voice faded, everyone stood on their feetwith back against the four walls, pushed all the chairs to the center, and held hands as the room began to vanish.

It is now 6:19pm on a Wednesday evening, daylight is still beaming through the shutters, the tv is turned to a movie that is showing its credits, fresh guacamole is chilling in the fridge, boiled eggs cooling on the stove, washed spinach is drying off in a colander, and grilled veggies are roasting in the stove oven along with grilled steak and chicken wrapped in tin foil. A light dinner and a greeny drink are coming right up.

As for me, I'm sitting on the couch, with my buttock pushed slightly near the edge, and feet resting on the coffee table, I glance at a beer -Independent Full Sail Amber- wearing a St. Louis Cardinal koozie and it is standing at a reachable distance next to my feet. I grab it and take a slow sip, filling my mouth, enjoying the bubbly texture while its flavor hits my taste buds. I am finally whining down. Life is amazing in my neck of the woods.

My parents are Artists

Sometimes during my sleep, flashed images from my childhood crawls into my dreams and it would be so vivid it makes me feel as if I'm reliving it. It's always hard to tell whether it is a dream or that it actually happened. And these images are random and in no particular time frame. Sometimes it all gets meshed together and becomes one incident, not able to tell where one ends and the other starts.

One night, after I went to sleep, I remembered when I was eight years old, tall and slender, dressed in a matching outfit that my mother sewed with her own hands and with skin so dark it looked as if I was from a different race, I was a tomboy. I played with only boys. I had one girl friend, but Since I hardly knew English it impeded the growth of our friendship. That feeling still resonates inside of me from time to time.

My mother always sent us (my two brothers and me) to school on a full stomach and with fresh clean clothes to wear. She went out of her way to wake up early, fix us something to eat because she knew even then the importance of breakfast. It was usually left over Vietnamese food she made the night before. Her and my dad would drive thirty miles to Fresno once every couple of weeks to pick up some Asian herbs and spices to make meals that resembled Vietnamese food. It was good. It was good because she made it. After breakfast, she would tie my hair into a tight pony tail. It was so tight it looked like I had a facelift at the age of eight, but it had to last the whole eight hours at school because I was more rough than most girls my age.

One morning, after my brothers had left the house and headed out for school on their bikes and my mother had finished my hair, there were a few minutes to spare until I had to head out myself. I heard my dad spoke loudly to her. I could tell it wasn't his normal voice and I could tell everything wasn't ok. I was eight. I wasn't smart enough to know what was happening. But the tone of their voices told me everything.

I remembered back at the refugee camp in the Philippines where we shared a 15 by 15 feet of living space in a huge warehouse that appeared to be the remains of what was once a building and the walls and roof top above us were made of tin. The ground was made of dirt and we were separated by neighboring families with only a sheet of fabric hung on a liner. One day, after the sun had gone down and I was coming home from a long day playing with the kids, knowing I was late for dinner, I ran as fast as I could. I collided into an older lady who had in her hands a pot of hot water. It poured all over my tiny body and hours later, my parents found me laying up against the tin wall in fetal position, holding myself tight. Even then, they told me everything will be alright, and took me to the hospital. Their kind voices were comforting and I felt safe. That night, I skipped dinner.

Their loud voices explained our weekly visits to multiple garage sales and the flea market that was located 10 minutes from where we lived. My overly worn second-hand Nike shoes with velcro bought from the flea market for a quarter was worn to school every day, and when I came home each day, my feet stunk so bad even I couldn't bare the smell. It was like something died in it. And when we bought expired food at the grocery outlet and grew our own herb garden so we could have fresh produce, were the reasons for their loud voices. Still they told us we were ok. My mother made the best dinners, filled the table with delicious meals every night at 7. We all knew to be at the dinner table at the same time each night. No excuses. This was where we exchanged stories from our day and laughed. It was one thing we proudly shared and looked forward to. When dinner was over, we were all stuffed and went to bed content and happy. My parents are not artists, but their paintings made us feel protected.

As I wake up from my sleep, I look around my room and noticed it is bigger than the space we all shared in the Philipines, on the shelf were 30 pairs of shoes I now own, all bought brand-new some even unworn, pressed dresses all lined up neatly with velvet hangers, and blouses organized by the style. My parents have their own closets and clothes hung according to the seasons, and while I'm just one city away, I no longer have them to paint me another picture.

My parents' paintings have laid a foundation for me to live a life filled with abundance. I've held these silent lessons tight and when I dream of them, I wake up being reminded that everything is going to ok.

Today, I met with Joaquin Regalado.

$100 steak is cheap

A dinner plate, made of stark white ceramic and a product of HouseBeautiful, sits elegantly against our glass dining table in front of me. As I sit here waiting for Dan, I admire the delicious edibles that are placed on the plate, filling every square inch without a single touch of artistry but rather a smother of love, team work, and unity.

To the right side of the plate lays a seductive 12 oz. Rib Eye grilled to medium well. It was seasoned with a drissle of worcestershire, cracked black pepper, sea salt, and Dan's favorite Lawry's steak seasoning. The dark grill marks branded diagonally across the steak gives it the look of a five-star restaurant. The heart of artichoke, buttered potatoes, asparagus, and okras sets an ideal accent while emphasizing the formality and tastiness of the steak. And to garnish off the unplanned placement of each item is the greenest and perfectly grilled broccoli I've ever seen. This was our dinner for tonight.

It was a dinner made by overcoming our years of independence, reducing egos, and collaborating cooking experiences (or lack there of). The pleasure I got from each bite was unlike anything I've ever prepared by myself. The charred heart of romain suddenly tasted delicious and I craved for more even after I finished it. The slightly burnt potatoes were masked by its buttery flavor. This isn't a $100 steak house, but beats any 12oz Mastros could have ever prepared. This is merely an appetizer to our five course meal. Get ready for a menu no other five-star restaurants can beat.

Trim me to your heart's content

I was gratefully adopted from a hardware store called Home Depot when I was less than a foot off the ground. I have since found a place I call home, grown near the side walk, in a quiet neighborhood in the city of FountainValley, and I'm surrounded by happy blooms as well as discouraging weeds.

Over the years, despite the inevitable and harsh weather, I've spurred tall and luscious. I'm about 6 feet tall, have multiple stems, and thick foliage. Compared to my relative, the trees, I have smaller leaves, each in the size of a penny, and they are densely structured next to one another. When healthy, its natural luster that can be seen from street. The brilliance of each leave exudes an over-all glow like the Flecher Jones Motor Cars' sales lot. Each reflecting off the other, making for powerful dances when encouraged by the wind.

My life span is long and durability is the name of my game. I can be shaped to something as simple as a round ball or as intriquette as a dolphin or a dragon. I can only become these desired shapes through heavy-handed wackings and consistant trimmings. Each thoughtful strike will build my shape, making it more defined and distinguished.

Today is the first day of daylight savings and if you're free, I ask you to come out to the yard, examine my shape and wack at me if you think I need it. I will embrace the tools you use and once you are done, I will mature into a shape that is alluring and every person who walks by your yard will turn their head.

The ground I play on

For some, work is a means to make

money and pay the bills, for others work is a place to escape their hectic home life, but for me, work isn't work, it is a playground. Most of the time I feel guilty for going to work because stereotypically, it is a place where one works really hard to earn a few bucks.

Today is Saturday and is the fourth and last day of my work week. With Diane Lau being my first client at 9 o'clock, my day heads in the right direction. Diane has gorgeous locks of dark expresso hair and when pressed straight with a flat iron, enhances its glass-like texture and bounces effortlessly to her every movement. With her wedding approaching in several months, and engagement photos next weekend, we have been nourishing every inch of its length, keeping it long and voluptuous.

Our goal today is maintain the shape of the layers while accentuating its fullness and body. I begin the haircut with a strong foundation by developing a defined base line then following it with soft interior layers. After working the foundation to my satisfaction, I reach for the powerful TGR 1800 watts blow dryer and start to create sexy curls. Understanding the stubborn straight texture embedded in each strand,I choose a brush that is strong enough to soften its stubbornness - an inch and a half metal brush.

From the nape, I section off 2 inches of hair, just enough to wrap it snug around the curvature of the brush, slowly applying maximum heat to the hair. Rolling the brush gently between my palm, the hair gets evenly separated over the brush, wrapping itself around it, blowing until the shape is built to my liking, and to finish off, I swing the entire brush counter clock-wise before releasing it, giving a perfect S-shape to the hair. Allowing that section to cool completely, I make my way up the head shape and drop down another section of hair.

Many sections later, her hair is full and soft curls dominate her style. This is when she says with great excitement, "this is exactly what I want for my engagement photos next weekend". Voila, we have discovered the look she didn't even know she wanted when she first sat down in my chair.

This is my first client of the day and it is a typical day at the "playground". It is where I do my best work, socialize with my best people, and leaving with a sense of confidence I could have never found doing anything else.

A new take

Dan and I attended a funeral today. I've had a couple of close family members pass, but neither of which did I have the honor of attending, so today is officially my first.

There are no words that can possibly illustrate the essence of spirituality from the Buddhist rituals during the three-hour service. It was emotional. It was empowering. It was calming. It brought me closer to my old friends. It brought me closer to my current friends. It brought me closer go my family. It brought me closer to Dan. But more importantly, it brought me closer to compassion.

Thank you for sacrificing existence on earth in order go give us valuable lessons. You will always be remembered.

A lending hand

I love your ability to hold me for as long as our faces will melt together with sweat brewing between our cheeks. Your arms are wrapped tightly around me as silence comes between us and your heart beat is the only thing I can hear. The sound is comforting, but the rhythm is not what I'm used to. Each beat is followed by the next and its vibration utters stories of the past. I want to extend my arm, open my palm inside your body and grab all that I can. As quickly as I can, the warmth of my hand will indulge your meshed flesh as I extract it right out of your body. Removing the heaviness that has been built up inside, giving you a sense of weightlessness.

The Tune-up

The weather App on my iPhone displays an icon that indicates it will rain today. For the most part, this feature is usually accurate and I can rely on this technology to help with my daily routines. The App world has expanded to include all sorts of things such as Mapquest to help find driving or walking directions to any desired place, Ladytime which keeps your menstraul cycle on record to help with fertility decisions, or ShopSavvy, a bar code scanner that helps locate the best price on a product. If you can think of it, there is an App for it. It is all great, until you go a day without checking into your Apps and you wind up like me today. Unfortunately, I proceeded my first errand for the day without consulting with my App

For the first time in 9 months, my car gets washed by the brand-new car washing drive thu offered at a local Shell gas station on the corner of Talbert and Brookhurst. For $8 and an additional .10 cents off per gallon on your total gas purchase, you get the whole nine yards, The Works - power wash, buff, wax, and dry. This is a deal I cannot pass up and it is a service much needed to maintain the longevity of the car's paint job. Driving through the car wash made me think of how spoiled I've been. Dan has been washing my car and detailing it every single week, all by hand and free of charge. God bless his kind heart. The day seems overcast, but still relatively nice.

My car sparkles as it gets driven to Thien Tan's Auto shop to get an oil change and on the way, rain came pouring over the entire car. The car wash excursion that happened two minutes ago was a complete failure. A text message comes through just when I am thinking that my eight- dollar car wash is being washed down by the rain. It is a text from a close friend whom I consider my own family, he informs me about his passing mom. Suddenly, nothing is that important any more. My heart skips a beat as I remember his mom and her unconditional love for him and everyone around her. She was the kindest and warmest woman I know.

As I begin to think about her, I begin to think about all the unconditional love

that surrounds me and appreciate the ones I interact with on a daily basis and regret to neglect the ones who are out of sight. Pulling into the auto shop, I push these thoughts aside in order to give my car it's usual tune-ups. A simple 10,000 mile oil change was my original intent and although I knew my breaks are on its last few stops, I was hoping it will last long enough to hold me over for a few extra weeks. But it's time. The breaks' life line has expired.

I feel slightly weakened by unexpected tune-ups expenditures exceeding my budget, totalling $950. But as I drive away from the auto shop, I acknowledge life in the grand scheme of things and understand that with everything that exists on earth, each requiring maintenance and all of which comes with an unforeseen lifeline. I will care for and maintain my car for as long as it will be with me. There are no Apps in the world that will predict how long my car will be around, so each day that it is with me, I will keep it clean and shiney, maintained to the best of by ability, and to appreciate and love it day in and day out.

Sunday

It all started out with a walk to the park, at 10:30am where Dan shot hoops and showed me how to line sprint on the basketball court. In addition, our day will consist of Pho, Yogurtland, and an intentional all-day vegging

It's about three hours into the showing of 84th Academy Awards, with my sore body unable to do much more around the house, I flop myself on the couch, laying my backside against the nicely worn leather with my feet tucked lightly under a soft black faux fur throw, I force myself to relax. My body opens up to the couch, pulls it close and grabs on to it tight, like the way Miss Dior Cheri envelopes my delicate skin every time I leave the house. I'm comfortable and able to forget about all the cleaning, organizing, cooking, and loads of laundry that ironically happened all day long. Whatever happened to the anticipated day of doing nothing?

My body becomes vulnerable to this couch and my mind is being relaxed by the white noise produced from the Academy Awards. I take a quick glance at Dan, who is lounging on the lover’s seat perpendicular to me, and notice his intense focus on the laptop in front of him.

I begin to reminisce about the guilt I felt yesterday, when we had jokingly posted a microwave on Craigslist to sell for $25. It took an astonishing two minutes to receive a response from a guy named Martin and within 45 minutes it was sold. I've never felt so guilty for selling a household item that was in mint condition and practically brand-new. It was a bargain!

After accepting the payment in cash and putting it my neon green American Eagle snow jacket's pocket, the guy said he's buying this to furnish a house operated by SoberLiving - a drug and alcohol recovery housing provided to those in need. My first reaction was to give back the money. “This is wrong of me to do,” I thought to myself. Resisted the urge to return the money, I quickly looked around the garage for more stuff to give him, as if to give him enough stuff to accommodate for the money he had paid me for the microwave. As if I owed him something and that I needed to help him somehow. I pointed to a pile of stuff that Dan and I had sorted through last weekend and told him to take whatever he needed. He filled his brand-new, black Cadillac SRX with a TV, lamp, and other nick nacks from the pile of stuff. The more his car was being filled up, the less guilt I felt and the more I felt like I was helping in some way. I’m not sure if that was a good deed that we had done, but I’m hoping to not feel guilty for spending our microwave money on a nice bowl of Pho sometime next week.

The Academy Awards is now over and I’m too relaxed for my own good. The timer on my body is clicked to “bedtime” and all I can think about is the enticing bed waiting for us in the master bedroom. We are ready to shut down the house.

Couch Potato

How much does it cost to spend time on the couch? After spending $2 on "50/50" and $3 on "In Time" at Blockbuster Express in a two-day period, you start to think that if this goes on for a month period, you'll be spending a minimum of $75. And that is watching only one movie a day and keeping the movie for just one day. Each day the movie isn't returned, you are being charged the same amount it was charged the first day. If the movie got buried under your school books and old gym clothes in the trunk of your car for weeks on end, consider yourself one poor bastard.

So to cut down on that expense, we added a new expense through DirectTv cable to have Showtime, Cinamax, HBO and other channels that provides movies we would've had to rent. The upgrade is costing us another $40 bucks a month which makes the grand total close to $120. That's over$1500 dollars a year.

We've done careful calculation and found that in order to hit break-even point for each month, we need to watch at least 16 movies a month, which averages out to .5 movie per day. So in order to make a profit, we would have to watch one full movie each and every day of each and every month. This means no starting a movie and then stopping it half way through, no falling asleep during a movie, no talking on the phone or doing homework during a movie, no cooking or house chores or sex during a movie, no going a day without watching a movie, nothing. If we missed a movie today, we'd have to watch two the next. If we've powered through three movies today, we are good for the next two days. You get the idea.

How is this cheaper than renting one movie at a time? Well it's not. But one good thing is we are forced to cuddle, all the time, on the couch. DirecTv is charging us a monthly fee to sit on our couch, in our own living room, and cuddle. It's costly to be a couch potato, but we couldn't be happier.

Aftermath

There isn't a richter scale made to accurately measure the aftermath of my previous weekend. A sudden cold-like symptom hovers over me and my suspicion of this cause is a combination of Origine Vodka & Tonic Soda at our house followed by Charlie Palmer and Tin Lizzie Saloon, all of which happened on Saturday, just two nights ago. My head is screaming uncontrollable pain and its heaviness is taking over my concentration. My brain and body are out of commission. Wish I can put up a sign that says, "closed for lunch, will be back a long long time from now".

My day starts out slow, listening to sparrows making music outside, watching the Cooking Channel, and waiting for a potential buyer, Danielle, to come and snatch a few wooden boxes. All sales revenue will be spent at the nearest grocery store today. Her expected time of arrival is 11:30am, which is about an hour away, and my expected sales revenue will be a whooping 75 dollars.

The central heating system has been on auto all morning, set to 75 degrees to heat upthe entire house, yet my hands and feet remain cold and numbing and I am more irratible than ever . I'm in desperate need to break out of this icebox and get outside where it appears nicer and the warmth provided by the sun seems cozy. Perhaps I should run an errand of some sort.

My vision is blurry and my thoughts are hazy as I head out to return a movie, "50/50" at Blockbuster Express located inside of Rite Aid. I am still exhausted! And I still cannot think. My mind is shot down by the residue of liquor intake (known as birthday shots) that occurred two nights ago. I feel weak and my body feels soggy like over-marinate beef skewers.

I'm sitting in class now, and just 48 hours until our first exam, I am trying to stay in tact and alert. I'm eager to go home and lay my beaten body down on the couch and snooze until I feel better.

The weekend was a blast, however, the repercussions are more than I can handle. Nonetheless, I vouch to not change a single thing when my next birthday rolls around. Thank goodness it is more than 11 months away. Thank goodness.

Y-E-S

From a so-called beatlab, inspired by Step Brothers, or otherwise known as Dan's private place for alone-time and secret dances, were tunes of "Your Birthday" by The Beattles, "In da Club" by 50 cent, and "birthday Sex", by Jeremiah, all Deejayed by the master himself, Dan Sheahan. One tune after the next, it travels into our room and gently caresses my ears as I lay in bed unable to wake up. Sitting on the nightstand is the sweet aroma of freshly brewed coffee resting in a pink Pepelepue cup with a swirl of vanilla nut creamer. It is irresistible and the smell is so real I can taste it. This is when I realize that today is a special day.

Today is Thursday and it is one day out of the week that gets stretched like a shrunk knit sweater that has been tossed in the drier for too long. The usual work, then school, then more work routine gets an unexpected side order of Dan's later to be revealed birthday surprise. Rolling up in his driving machine, and parked in the red zone outside my work, he waits patiently as I finish up my last client for the day. With Gulf Stream, a local seafood restaruant with the coolest outdoor patio and amazing oysters on the half shell, as our final destination, Dan insists on making a quick stop beforehand. All trust invested, I follow his lead. Although my stomach is kicking in pain and begging for anything to eat, I remain as cool as a mid-summer's strawberry lemonade. As we head further away from Newport and closer to Huntington Beach on PCH going northbound, my wondering mind is restless and my tummy is now fuming with steam ready for a Man vs Food challenge.

With luck on my side, a parking spot became available upon our arrival in downtown Huntington Beach. Parked on 5th Street, a number held close to my heart, we walk towards the ocean with hands locked tight and shivering every step of the way. Hunger creeps up on me once again, but I refrain from voicing it this time around. As we approach the front of Shorebreak Hotel, he points out the exact spot of our first meeting eleven months prior. The magic number five appears again, all of them are black beach chairs placed horizontally side by side in front of the hotel. Dan was adamant to have me sit in the chair where he had sat the first day we met. "I have two birthday presents for you to open," he says softly. From a black fabric recycled grocery bag, he hands me two wrapped presents, one on top of the other and insists I start with the small-sized present on top.

This little square shaped present was small enough to fit comfortably in the middle of my palm. I felt an immediate connection to the box and felt in my heart this could be my dream come true. As I continue to unwrap and finally open the red wooden box, it was empty, just the white velvet lining glimmering back at me. If this is a joke, it is poorly delivered and nobody is laughing. Feelings of confusion and possibly resentment may be filtering my thoughts. Dan immediately intersects my shocking reaction with a ring held loosely in his right hand and on one knee, he asks me words I will never forget, "Will you marry me?". Without a blink of an eye, tears came rolling down and both of us held each other tight. Catching small gaps of air, Y-E-S! are being whispered under my breath as Dan holds me even tighter.

While time is unmeasurable and bliss is our state of being, the second and bigger present got pushed to the sideline. But eventually, out of the corner of my eye, it catches my attention and excitement fills my body again. This is just the cherry on top - a Blackberry Playbook!!

Tonight I will pack my bag, filling it with only memories of the past, learned lessons, and my willingness to make Dan my priority, I head out to the road of woman hood. I am beside myself and ever so grateful to take on this next saga with my beloved. O