2013, love

An Event Next Door

Last night I got a text from my neighbor inviting me to a party he was having.  He said, “oh btw I’m engaged.”  And he said it just like that. I can’t say it wasn’t surprising since a few months earlier he was single and, I suspected, a little bit interested in sleeping with me.

I bought an engagement card on my way home and scrolled tender wishes for a romantic summer and a fun engagement.  I did my best to convey support and excitement for a couple I had no knowledge even existed.  I hadn’t seen my neighbor in months–I figured it was the winter time and it was his rigorous last semester of law school.  I figured I’d see him as I had last summer–late at night for beers and BBQ.

I let myself into the party and immediately met the mother of the bride who introduced me to the bride-to-be.  In these few moments, I impressed myself with my social grace: no stumbling over words, saying all the right and lovely things, striking the right balance between gushing happiness and  I’ve-never-met-you-before distance.  SHE WAS GORGEOUS.  I’m saying this, and mentioning my impressive social skills because it really caught me off guard.  I could have stumbled over her beauty, but I didn’t.

I spent the evening talking to her sister, who told me the romantic story of how her sister met my neighbor so quickly, how they both broke off their other relationships to be with each other, how he proposed one random evening after they had seen Jurassic Park.  Apparently they had been inseparable since they met–she slept over at my neighbors almost every night yet I had never seen or heard of her.

I saw them together across the garden and it was real.  Their love was calm, their excitement was infectious but not assertive, and their future seemed to stretch out vibrantly before them.

I can’t believe that a love like that happened right next door to me.  It happened like any major event; like a lightning strike, but quietly and right under my nose. It’s affecting in a similar way, too.  I feel the guilty/grateful “it-could-have-been-me’s” like we do when someone dies.  I feel that way as if it could have been me who fell madly in love with the right person, entertaining all of the same questions that one does after an event almost happens to them.  If I had just left the house 2 minutes later… if I hadn’t missed that train… maybe if I had lived just one door over, lighting would have struck me down, instead.

Death, inspiration, Life, love

Memoirs of My Grandfather

This is the last part of my Grandpa’s small memoir that he recorded before he died.  Reading the whole thing, I can’t say I knew him very well… but he and my Granny made a huge impression on me when I was young that I still think about very often, even today.  More on my Granny another time, there is too much for me to say.  Anyway, here is the excerpt:

”  About this time, that is, 1987 Tom met and married Laura Butler in Sonoma. Two beautiful girl twins (fraternal) came along eventually, (Ashley and Erika) to enhance our lives. They were followed by Claire who was as challenging as you could imagine.

In 1995 our consulting careers ended and with that our ambitions and, I believe, our pride and confidence. Health problems rule. Our friends are plagued by health problems.

Time passes remarkably fast, much faster than before. We run to stay in one place.

I have developed a philosophy which, I believe, is very simple; namely, the Ten Commandments condensed to avoid the religious references i.e. “remember the Sabbath to keep it holy,” etc. I am an atheist, not an antitheist. These are six items including “do unto others”, etc. I can run you a copy if you want one. Perhaps we need religion because we are all afraid of living.

Along with the above, I have adopted an attitude of forgiving myself for acts and words I regret to varying degrees including profoundly. It is very hard to do! Also, I value the things I DIDN’T say.

We seem to be alone, but many others around us also seem to be alone. We seem to be waiting for the unexpected and inevitable. (An oxymoron?)

Old people are a dime-a-dozen!  “


The last words of his succinct autobiography were, “old people are a dime-a-dozen!”

I was holding his hand when he died, I’ll never forget it as long as I live.  He was trying to tell me something, he tried writing it down (I still have that paper), he tried saying it but the words wouldn’t form into a sound… and then he finally gave up.  I try not to dwell on that and for the most part, I don’t… I’ve come to terms.  But sometimes the what-ifs get to me and I wish I knew what he needed to tell me.

Barack Obama, Change, love, politics

Change Has Come

Be The Change.


From Obama’s amazing speech, these were my favorite parts:

“We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.

“Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends — hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism — these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility — a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation and the world; duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.


“This is the price and the promise of citizenship.


“This is the source of our confidence — the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.



“This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed — why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent Mall,
and why a man whose father less than 60 years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.”

inspiration, john mayer, love, Music, Obama

John Mayer Is In My Shower

Whenever I take a hot shower, I think of John Mayer.  I think of him because I think how good a hot shower feels, and then I remember that he once said, “love is hot shower where your skin never prunes.”  Then I think about how good love feels, and I admire the simplicity and truth of that quote.  I wish I could feel that kind of love AND take a hot shower every day!

If it were possible, I would wear John Mayer’s guitar strings around my wrist every day of my life  (even though he didn’t respond to my fan letter–busy with Jen, I get it.  Just like Obama was “too busy” running for president to send a thank you card for the chopsticks I sent he and Michelle [if you don’t know the story behind that, I apologize.]  I’m totally kidding anyway..)


I can wear his guitar strings around my wrist every day of my life!!!

For the modest price of $200+ dollars (100% of proceeds go to the Back To You Fund)  Check it out:


It even comes with a certificate of authenticity!

It even comes with a certificate of authenticity!

Those pictures are from the John Mayer Team blog, btw.

So I thought I’d share that.

3 nights ago I had a dream that my sister Ashley and I met John Mayer.  He didn’t know who the Allman Brothers were, and I had to spell “Allman” for him.  It rumpled my feathers but I didn’t let it show.  He liked Ashley a lot more than he liked me anyhow.  We went to a grocery store with him (this natural food store I vividly remember as a kid, I think it was next to where the Bagel Shop is…)  and got lost, but actually… I was the only one who got lost.  They stayed together in the store, lucky girl….  hmpf.  Either way, I simply didn’t want that dream to end.

Change, fashion, Friends, Haight, inspiration, love, Obama, San Francisco

If You’re From Where I’m From…

…and you’re in the least bit cool, you’ll know Haight Street in SF.  Moreover, you’ve been there, and you know the fashion is funky, sexy, cutting edge and fun.  There might be a little too many bums who’ve thought of creative approaches to asking for your money, but none can deny the good looking people and the awesome fashion.  It’s the Harajuku to California.

When ever I go to Haight, it’s usually while I’m on my way home from San Luis Obispo and I feel like a frump, wearing my Billabong tee and some flip flops.  I think I need some brown leather boots, some high-class straight legs and a peacock feather necklace to even hold a candle…  I look like a cute little Gap commercial, I don’t know how to dress fashionably.


That said, one of my best friends (a beautiful and talented fashion merchandising student at the art institute) has a fantastic blog with a fellow fashion student that documents and discusses stores, trends, sales, and quirky fashion classics that are to be found on Northern California’s beloved Haight Street.  They throw in some interviews, some lil’ fashiony tips and such and such… I’m no haighter, I love this blog.

If you’re into fashion, devote yourself.  I know I need some fashion input/advice/knowledge, I’ll be checkin up on these girls…


Holiday Season 2008, love, Parties, Sonoma


I’m hoooome! 

My “honey” is my little sister who, bless her heart, is rolling out pie crusts and peeling apples.  She didn’t have a seaming pie fresh out of the oven waiting for me, but I guess I’ll forgive her : )  ‘Tis the season, right?

Ha.  But really, it feels great to be home for the holidays.  Last night I stayed over at Molly’s beautiful house over looking the valley and we hot tubbed and it felt like I was on vacation in Tuscany.  I did forget to pack the pile of shirts I picked out, so I don’t have any tops!  But I’ll make do.  You’ll just see me wearing dresses far more often than normal.

Tonight I was going to have some girlfriends over to drink wine and hot tub because my Dad is out of town but we’re going to go to the Sonoma Lodge instead. ‘Cause we high class, thats how we roll.

I hope everyone has a joyful Thanksgiving, don’t eat too much pumpkin pie… drive safe, wear your seatbelt, maintain a safe following distance, don’t hit a dip going too fast… (by the way, it turns out McKenna fractured a vertebrae in her lower back!  I hope she heals quickly and throughly…. poor thing)

Happy Turkey Day babes. Xoxoxo














vote NO on 8 🙂n502000349_2065718_2920

Friends, Life, love

He’s Just Not That Into You

The movie is coming out soon, Eva and I just saw a preview and got a little bit excited.

That phrase utters such truth!  You know, visa versa as well.

I usually don’t talk about my romances on my blog because I feel they deserve a certain amount of privacy, respect, and they certainly shouldn’t be broadcast on here for the world to see.  But this romance has ended (mind you: without any trace of the respect I might offer it by not writing about it on my blog.) so I feel I can tell about it.

Even though I love being single, I met this great guy who I felt a connection with, who treated me amazingly and with respect, and I thought these things would make it easy to be in a relationship.  It was fantastic for a short while, about 2 months, maybe less… I tried to be a great girlfriend, and I was thoughtful and sweet, but being someones girlfriend wasn’t what I wanted to be.  So I don’t think I gave him the attention and love that he gave to me, and it didn’t feel right.  

When the exchange between 2 people isn’t balanced, someone ends up feeling used and getting hurt.  And the more time passes, the worse the hurt feelings are.  When I realized my unwillingness to be in a relationship, I didn’t want to continue any further. So the night before I was planning on telling him this and, ultimately, ending the relationship, I replied to a text message with an acknowledgement of my recent aloof behavior. I said I’d hoped we could talk about it the next evening.  His response ended with the phrase that everyone knows,

“it isn’t working…”

In a text!  An act of which one could recall from the 5th grade, perhaps?  And then he refused to meet up and talk with me the next day, talk it through, end with closure and on good terms.  He said he didn’t want to invest any more energy into it because he’d already put too much time and money “and everything else.”

I’ve never, ever let guys pay partially out of fear of this sort of guilt…. this “debt owed” sort of feeling.  My friends and my mom’s friends always told me “let the guy pay, let the guy pay” and I finally listened…then.. this.  He chalks it up to time and money wasted.

So besides the fact that it was over anyway, all I’m left with is the thought that true character was revealed and I’m actually just pretty bummed on it. It made me feel like I was in middle school again, hurt by some playground jokes the mean girls taunted me with or something.

I could try to remain cordial in hopes of someday gaining a friendship, but I don’t want a friendship with him.  

I hope he learns not to be a fool willing to give more than he receives, and to control his defense mechanisms better. (Eva said, “it could be worse, he could have pooped on your front porch!”) He could have been a gentleman about it, too.

What an ASSHOLE!