51 Days!

In about 50 days we'll meet our son! He is scheduled to arrive on my Dad's birthday, June 11. But you never know about due dates... they tend to shift and change depending on the baby's development. Also, we have a very large, healthy boy on our hands. He's about a week ahead in development so the chances of him arriving early are very high. I guess we'll see. In the meantime, we're preparing as best we can and getting his nursery ready. Since my hubby is a fireman, the nursery is a fire truck theme and it's coming together quite nicely!

We're still on the fence about names. I sort of envy those who have already chosen names for their future children and know exactly what they plan to name them. That is so not M and me. I guess we'll have to wait and see on that one, too.

Here's the funny part about this pregnancy: our doctor was featured on an episode of "16 and Pregnant." In December, I was flipping channels and landed on MTV. I heard a girl say that she lived in McKinney, TX and that her relatives in Harlingen, TX were going to adopt her baby. Since it had a local connection to me, I continued watching. Much to my surprise, when the teen went into labor and the doctor came in, it was MY doctor! The hubby and I were totally surprised to see him! So if you happen to catch Ashley's episode of "16 and Pregnant" you will see my doctor and have a much too personal look at what I'll be going through in about 7 weeks.

Here is a pic of our little guy at 31 weeks:

Three is a Magic Number

After five years of dating, M and I eloped! We had been discussing it for a while and knew that a big wedding was not the way to go for us. Not my style. Fortunately, not M's style, either. So we told our family to meet us at a beautiful chapel in Austin on a sunny fall afternoon. We exchanged vows in front of our parents, siblings, nieces and nephews. It was perfect.

Granted, they were absolutely shocked when we told them they were invited to our elopement. The rest of our family/friends were equally shocked when we informed them (mostly via text-message and Facebook after the ceremony) that we had tied the knot! But they were all excited and happy for us.

As for M and I, we are excited about our life together and we're starting a family. Our son is due in June 2011! M truly is the love of my life and I am eternally grateful that I was blessed with him. There simply are not many men like him and I'm blissfully happy knowing that he's mine and the father of my child.

Nosy, Rude Or Both?

I recently bumped into someone I've known for a while. I don't see her too often but when we do see each other, it's usually not planned and a real "bump in" situation. Every time she sees me, she asks about M but not in a nice way. It's always a steady stream of questions that go something like this - all in ONE breath:

"Hey, C! How are you? How's M? Did he pop the question? Are you getting married? Do you discuss marriage? How long has it been now? Shouldn't you be concerned about having babies?"

Then she just pauses and waits for me to answer. I usually give her a puzzled smile because I honestly do not know which question I should answer first as she asked 7 rapid fire questions without giving me an opportunity to answer even one of them. On this most recent "bump in" I responded with, "Why don't you ever ask if we're happy?" She seemed stunned and made a quick excuse to get out of the situation. I don't understand why certain married people find it necessary to badger single people about not being married. It's not like I go around asking married people why they aren't divorced yet.

Perhaps those married people are unhappy and want someone to commiserate with. Perhaps they find marriage to be a drag and want someone else to be in that club with them. Like when you're eating something that tastes bad and you say to the person sitting next to you, "Taste this, it's awful!"

Or maybe they are just concerned. A lot of people in our society believe there's something "wrong" with people who are not married and don't have kids by a certain age. My friend C, who is more like family, recently spoke to a man in San Antonio, TX who chided her and all "career women" for not putting marriage and kids as the top priority in life. And yet, he himself was divorced.

Are they nosy? Are they rude? Is it a little bit of both? I call it rude. And as I told my friend C, she should have kindly reminded that stupid man that it's two thousand and f'ing TEN, not 1910. It's not even 1950:




( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=deCHQdZuXog )

5 Things CC Taught Me

1. Red lights are optional in Corpus Christi. If you’re at a red light and no one is coming, you can just go on through the intersection. That annoying red light is more like an illuminated stop sign. I actually felt weird for staying at the red light while waiting for it to turn green. I simply could not bring myself to run it.

2. The only Mexican bakery in CC that still does pink cake correctly is the Michoacán. There are new variations of pink cake that I’ve found at different Mexican bakeries all over Texas. But, luckily, the original can still be found in CC. If you spot original pink cake in your neck of the woods, you must tell me.

3. Santa Selena (Saint Selena) is real if you believe. She is like the Santa Claus of Corpus Christ. Her grave is a regular spot for locals and tourists to visit. By the way, her grave is creepy and I won’t apologize for saying that. Her memorial statue is equally popular but a little less creepy. And people still jam out to her music, paint murals of her all over the city and I know someone who carries a pic of her in his wallet.

4. If you’re into people watching, you should hit up the Saratoga Bingo Hall. I went twice and will continue to go there. It’s as good as airport people watching! They bust out their lucky charms and have an entire gaming system that fascinates me. Have I ever won money from that bingo hall? No. Have I ever laughed so much I cried there? Hell-to-the-yes!

5. Pack your fat pants. Like New Orleans, you will eat. A LOT. This city has some of the best Mexican food (not necessarily Tex-Mex) and you just can’t help yourself. It’s the same with the pink cake; you won't be able to say no. But, most importantly, they have HEB Plus which is the most awesome grocery store in America. You’ll go in there and buy things just because you can. And why shouldn’t you?

5 Things NOLA Taught Me

1. Traveling to New Orleans, LA by car could mean hours added to your road trip. Especially if there is something going on, like a football game or a concert. We happened to be going there when the Cowboys played the Saints. The traffic was a nightmare and most of them were Saints fans who lived outside of NOLA. Good thing I wasn’t in my car with my Cowboys antenna ball. And I guess it was a good thing we didn't go to the game because the Cowboys won and we were probably their only fans in NOLA.

2. Café du Monde is always packed... except maybe when the Saints are playing. The café is typically overflowing with people but we walked right in and seated ourselves. The game was in the 4th quarter and the café was dead. There was only one other couple in the café and they looked like they just arrived from the set of Gilligan’s Island. Seriously, they were eerily similar to this. But I have to say that those little beignets are worth the wait and live up to the hype. AMAZING!

3. You can and should walk around with your adult beverage. You can buy wine, cocktails and other adult beverages just about everywhere including pharmacies, gas stations and small “walk ups.” (Imagine a hot dog vendor or snow cone stand that sells only mixed drinks.) As long as your beverage of choice is NOT in a glass container, you’re able to take it with you as you go; even from bar to bar.

4. A bicycle is the best way to see the city. We went on a bike tour with the Confederacy of Cruisers (named after the novel A Confederacy of Dunces about NOLA). It was AWESOME. We cruised through quiet neighborhoods and got a taste of the true Big Easy. Our tour guide rocked and it was my favorite part of the trip. But do it sober; it may be the Big Easy but you still can’t drink and drive.

5. Pack your fat pants. You will eat. And eat. And eat some more. This city has a wide range of restaurants that go from street carts to upscale dining and they’re all outstanding. You will try to restrain yourself but trust me, it will be for naught. Just open up your trap and give in. You will thank me later.

Word.

Today I heard some people talking about going out to lunch and burritos came up as an option. Chipotle was their winner but they didn’t pronounce it correctly. It came out as ‘chip-pole-tee’ and the correct pronunciation is 'chip-oat-lay.' Ugh.

Last month, I was at a Christmas party and I heard this woman talking to some children about Santa Claus. Only, she pronounced it as ‘san-tee’ instead of ‘san-tuh.’ Sigh.

This season on Top Chef, I noticed several of the contestants prepared ceviche. Only, they didn’t pronounce it correctly. They said ‘suh-veech’ instead of ‘seh-veech-eh.’ Groan.

And those are just the ones off the top of my head. There are more out there, I’m sure of it! What I am not sure of is why I am bothered by the way people mispronounce certain words. Perhaps it is linked to people calling me by the wrong name on a daily basis. I’ve been called Carla, Clarissa, Claire, Clarice and several other variations of the name Clara. Several of my coworkers, who have known me over 7 years, still don’t get it right.

Either way, there is just no excuse for saying “supposeBly” when the word is clearly spelled s-u-p-p-o-s-e-D-l-y.

Yes, Viginia, There Is A Rule About Drinking At Graduation

I graduated on Dec. 19 with my second Master's degree. It was a chilly day in Beaumont, TX and I rushed to get into the auditorium. We were divided into rooms based on the degree you were receiving and your last name. In my room, we had a lot of no-shows so we all just kinda sat around and talked.

As we were lining up, a woman came rushing in. She was running late and made it just in time. Her hair was all the way to her knees and she was carrying a wrinkled graduation gown and chugging a cold bottled coffee.

It turns out this long haired woman, Virginia, was full on drunk. At 9:30 a.m. Turns out that Starbucks drink was not just coffee. Virginia proceeded to tell us, in great detail, stories of her family, her stresses through grad school and other personal problems.

As luck would have it, Virginia sat next to me at the graduation. Our last names are not even close in the alphabet, but because of all the no-shows, she was my neighbor. The ceremony was in the opening phase when Virginia pulled up her graduation gown, hiked up her skirt and pulled a cell phone out of her thigh-highs. We were strictly told not take cell phones, but Virginia found a way.

It was time to go across the stage. (By the way, M got it on video and will post it soon.) As we were waiting in line to go across, some of our professors were sitting near the line. They were shaking the hands of the graduates and giving us a, "Congratulations!" as we walked by. But not Virginia. She reached over and did a full on hug. The kind of hug you get from a drunk relative at Christmas. And she didn't just hug one professor, she hugged them all- even the ones that were not from the education department.

Needless to say, Virgina made that graduation the funniest one yet... and thankfully, I do have a basis for comparison. There were other ceremonies that were more sentimental, like the first Master's where I sat next to one of my sweetest friends. Or my Bachelor's graduation when my brother yelled, "Way to go Munchkin" and everyone laughed. But this one, with drunk Virginia, was the funniest. Thanks, Virginia!

After the ceremony, I joined my family and M for lunch. The graduation was actually really short and didn't last all afternoon like some ceremonies. During lunch, I told my family about Virginia and we all laughed. I couldn't help but wonder what Virginia was having for lunch.

The Christmas Wish List - 2009

Buckle up, kids. After a one-year hiatus, the Christmas wish list makes its second appearance. I mainly do this for M, my sweet babboo, who never knows what to get me. Also, it's a fun way to share some of the things I've spotted during 2009 that would make a fun gift for anyone. Here we go...

1. This awesome sleeping bag to be used only by nerdy Star Wars fans, like yours truly.


2. This t-shirt needs no explanation, as it is already a classic.


3. This movie is still a family favorite. We used to have it on VHS but it was eaten by a VCR in 1998.


4. This cool jewelry thingy caught my eye and I WANT IT!


5. I think anyone would enjoy this piece of interactive clothing.

6. You can do me a solid and make a donation to my favorite charity, The March of Dimes.

Merry Christmas!

Always a Line for the Ladies Room

I went to at a training session in a different building. The training session consisted of five whole days but they spread those days out over 2 weeks. During our daily sessions, we would get 15-minute breaks. And without fail, the guys always commented on how long it took us girls to get in and out of the bathroom. So, I decided to write this post for them. Especially Mr. Know-It-All Guy from Garland.

First of all, it is most important to note that the main time suck in a women’s restroom are all those fancy automatic things that have become the norm in public restrooms. Allow me to explain that along with the other factors that cause those looong lines. And since this is bathroom talk, it may get ugly.

When a woman walks into a public restroom, there are four things that must be in place before we can commit to one stall.

1. There cannot be anything, and I mean anything, on the toilet seat or floating in the bowl. Why? Because we actually have to sit down, naked on the seat. We could potentially sit on something grody or something grody could splash up on us. Eww!

2. There must be toilet paper in the stall.

3. If toilet seats covers are available, there must be some in the container.

4. The door must lock. Can you imagine sitting there naked and someone pushes the door open? Not pretty.

If any of those items are not in place, we immediately back out of the stall and try the next one. Once we are committed to a stall, we have to remove every item of clothing from the waist down. And we have to be careful that our clothing (at knee level) doesn’t touch the toilet. Also, there is a very delicate amount of time between placing the toilet seat cover on the seat and then sitting down. If you place the cover on too soon, it can slide right into the bowl. Once everything is in order, we do our business and then proceed to get dressed.

With the invention of automatic flushing came yet another thing to add to the already crammed timing in the restroom. There are 4 basic problems with flushing.

1. The automatic flusher sometimes does not flush. So you have to stand there and wiggle around in hopes of setting off the sensor. If that does not work, you have to get a piece of toilet paper and hold it while pushing the flusher button.

2. The automatic flusher goes off too early. So you have to jump up as fast as possible in hopes of avoiding the unintentional bidet.

3. There is no automatic flusher – it is the old school knob. You have to get a piece of toilet paper and hold it while flushing or you can flush with your shoe. Just kick up that foot!

4. The flusher is broken. That is a whole other nightmare that has to be dealt with because the ladies waiting in line will know that you are the one who left a potty present.

Once things have been flushed and we are dressed, we exit the stall and proceed to the sink. We have to wash our hands with soap and dry them off. There are four things that can go wrong here.

1. The automatic soap and water dispensers are not only picky, but also greedy. You have to hold your hand in just the right spot so the sensor will give you one tiny squirt of soap. So you have to keep at it until you get enough soap. The automatic water dispensers are designed to conserve water. But you simply cannot get the soap off your hands with the small amount of water they provide. So you could be there a while trying to get the sensor to give you just enough water to rinse off.

2. The automatic paper towel dispensers do not recognize you and will not give you a paper towel. Sometimes you have to stand there and wiggle your wet hand around the sensor until some paper scoots out of the machine.

3. The automatic dryers are a good thing. Good for the environment and good for the clean up crew. However, they are disgusting because water pools on the floor just below them. They take a really long time and they still don’t do a good job of drying your hands. Other ladies are in line waiting for the dryers so we abort mission and exit the bathroom. And can’t help but squirm when touching the already wet door knob.

4. The automatic dryers are broken and/or there are no paper towels. This is particularly annoying if you notice it after having washed your hands. You gotta do the “dog shake off” and hope for the best.

So you see, a lot of the delay in women’s restrooms is caused by timing – it has to be just right. The automatic things that were installed in hopes of moving the process along have only made it worse. Plus, the whole issue of getting fully undressed then redressed is a problem… especially if you’re wearing tights or leggings.

Oh and we didn’t even get into hair/makeup checks and the fragile subject of “that time of the month.” I will spare you. But just know that these issues are just a part of what we deal with in a public restroom and that’s just the way it is. Now pass me some toilet paper from under the stall wall; I’m out.

It's Over!

Over the last 18 months, I have been married to Lamar University. I'm sad to say that there were times when I contemplated throwing in the towel and getting a quickie divorce. It just didn't seem worth it. I was doing all this work and Lamar was putting nothing into the relationship. When Lamar did choose to speak to me, it was always in an e-mail and would unwittingly accused me of doing things wrong. However, I knew a quickie divorce would be messy... especially if I tried to hook up with a new university later on.

So I stuck it out. I knew that I could win if I just held out long enough. And I did. My final project, which I like to call the Divorce Decree, was a 23-page paper and it was submitted earlier today. The class doesn't officially end until next week, but I wanted to jump ahead to end this thing properly. There is such a thing as a civilized divorce.

I did go through 8 high-lighters and 14 reams of paper to get this second Master's degree. Oh, and it also cost me one social life. But I must say that it's nice to have my life back. I'm feeling excited about the possibilities and anxious to see what the next chapter is in my little life.

The Return of Rocky the Raccoon!

Well, I only thought Rocky had left me for good. He's back in full force and had a full-on bachelor party in my attic last night. It honestly scared the crap out of me at first.

I called an exterminator and he told me that they do some sort of bomb that "stinks them out." I don't know exactly what that means as raccoons are not the scrub-a-dub type. But after a lengthy conversation with Matt, exterminator extraordinaire, I hired him.

It turns out he won't hurt or harm Rocky in any way. He just gets Rocky out and sends him on his way... to find the next party place. Then Matt actually patches up the point of entry and Rocky is officially locked out. I explained that I had tried to lock Rocky out before and, evidently, he found his way back in. Matt guarantees that his lockout is fool-proof and Rocky-proof. I'll let you know how that goes.

In the meantime, I need to invest in some good ear plugs because Rocky is like an inconsiderate, nocturnal guest that overstays his welcome and eats you out of house and home. Literally.

The Post for Livia

Ok. The secret is out. The friend I refer to as L in my blog is actually Livia. She is the coolest thing that ever happened to the Texas Panhandle. And she asked me to update my blog so here I am.

I have been swamped with my second Master's. That degree takes up all my free time and I'm ready for it to be over with. I kinda just want my normal life back. It seems that this grad school schedule makes me kinda grumpy.

For example, last month I found my temper flaring and I almost barked at a girl that made me mad. Typically I keep my cool or just blow things off. But that girl crossed paths with me on the wrong day - just before a big assignment was due. And I nearly went into attack mode.

It's weird for me not to like somebody. I mean, there are people I really don't like (I'm looking at you Jessica Alba, Latina Magazine and Nicholas Cage) but it's not as if I know them personally. This girl is someone I know personally and I was ready to poke her eyes out with a fork. That's a very odd and unusual feeling for me.

But it's ok. I'm in the early part of class #11 and I have to complete 12 classes. I really am close to being done. And I have a notepad full of things I want to blog about when I have my life back. But in the meantime, I hope this post for Livia will make her happy enough to share that Taco Villa burrito with me.

What April Showers Brought Me

Things that are ticking me off:

1. The person in my office who keeps warming up some sort of stinky tuna concoction, allows it to overflow in the microwave, then refuses to clean up the spill.

2. My current grad school class that has not been like any of the others. This one has 3 professors in charge of it and that was just the first of many red flags.

3. The squirrels and raccoons who are in a full-blown turf war for the creek in my backyard.

Things that are helping me forget about being ticked off:

1. Discount Easter candy at the grocery store. And at CVS. And the ones stuck to the bottom of my nephew's Easter basket.

2. My friends who are rounding out the first month of spring with pictures of their babies in sunglasses.

3. The upcoming Flight of the Conchords concert. It's on May 5 - Cinco de Mayo!! Should I dress accordingly?

What's That Smell?

One of my favorite things to do is read the newspaper on a slow, weekend afternoon. A while back, I walked out of my front door on a Saturday morning to get the newspaper (which is always at the very end of the driveway) and saw this:











Nice, huh? Well, last weekend, I stepped out of the front door to go get the paper and I got a whiff of something awful. It honestly smelled like someone had pooped on my front porch. I thought it might be a gift from one of the neighborhood dogs - or kids. But I couldn't find anything. As I walked to the end of the driveway, the odor got even more pungent.

Then I realized my neighbor across the street had a rake in his hand and was turning the soil in his compost pile! In his FRONT yard! The smell was so bad I actually gagged.

I have seen the circular shaped thing in his yard before but I thought it was the remnants of an old tree that had been removed. At times, there are faint odors circling the neighborhood but I thought it was coming from one of the neighborhood trash bins. But no. It's the compost pile. The stinkiest, grossest compost pile this side of Rio Grande. I actually feel even more sorry for the guy who lives right next door to him. Check it:















Don't get me wrong. I understand composting and why it's important. I am pro-compost piles. But I am anti-stinky ones in the front yard. Icky.

To Walk Or Not To Walk

Things here in nerdville are moving right along. This idea for a second Master's degree is a little nuts but, as you know, I'm the eternal nerd so I would not have it any other way.

I am close to the end of grad school class #8 and it's hard to believe that I did all of that in just 11 months! It takes 5 weeks to get through one class so they are rigorous and fast-paced. But the good thing is that all of my classes are really interesting. So even though I complain sometimes, I do enjoy what I am learning and I even enjoy the assignments. (Mostly, my complaints are that I don't have any free time. And I have to take my school work with me everywhere I go... like a true geek.)

Here's the kicker... once I complete 12 classes, I'm done. I have the sinking suspicion that my parents want me to walk at the graduation ceremony and I don't want to do it. I did participate in the full swing of graduation ceremonies twice! (When I finished college and grad school.) But a third time might do me in. So I did a pros and cons list - which would look totally different if my mom had done it.

Pros:

• My nephews and nieces can be there and actually remember it.
• I have family in the town where the university is located.
  

Cons:

• I have to buy invitations, a cap, gown and graduate sash.
• The town where the university is located is 5 hours away.
• We have to sit through a long ceremony.
  

What do you think? Should I walk again?

Spoiled Milk

I'm in the closet right now. I literally am sitting in my closet with M because there is a tornado nearby. The sirens went off, we grabbed Pedro the parakeet and ran to the closet. While I'm in here, I thought it would be a good time to tell the story about Milk. 

M and I went to see the movie Milk. I've been eager to see it and we finally got tickets over the weekend to a 10:15 p.m. showing. We bought our tickets early and went to have some cocktails. At 9:50 we went back to the theater and handed over our tickets. The Angelika theater employee said, "Theater 3 on the left." We went straight into the theater and realized that the previous showing was not yet over. And we happened to walk in right at THE pivotal point of the movie!!  I was so pissed at that girl for taking our tickets and telling us to go right on in. Ugh!! Sigh. Groan.

Don't get me wrong, most people know the history of Harvey Milk and how his story ends. But to see it happening on film right as we walked in was such a bummer. It spoiled Milk for me. However, the movie was still awesome. Go see it. And recruit a friend to go with you. 

Update: Sirens went off so I'm off. I have homework. 

Spotted: Rocky the Raccoon

If you will recall, it was about a year ago that I found raccoons in my attic. I was mortified because those little things are known to cause all kinds of electrical and structural damage. Anyhoo... my dad and M worked very hard to close up all the vents so that the raccoons would not use my attic as their honeymoon suite.

However, I recently spotted Rocky (as M has named him) trying to get into one of the eave vents. Obviously, it didn’t work and only his body was able to cram into that tight space. He is clearly embarrassed and allowed me to snap this quick picture before he fell right out of there.

Kennedy and Me

I must admit I was really ready for this birthday to be over with. You see, Kennedy was assassinated on November 22, 1963. More than ten years later, I was born on that same date. Over the years it has been a bummer to wake up on my birthday with newspaper headlines that read, “Today America Mourns.”

This year marks the 45th anniversary of Kennedy’s death and lots of people (by that I mean the media) in DFW can’t stop talking about it. Our local news discussed all the tourist traffic in Dealey Plaza and the Sixth Floor Museum which were suddenly hot spots. Also, one news station interviewed the police officer who was handcuffed to Lee Harvey Oswald at the time of his shooting. Suddenly, it seemed as if JFK’s ghost was all over town.

The whole idea of someone being killed that way is creepy and to have video of it played over and over on your birthday is no fun. I do understand how Dallas and its people were changed after November 22, 1963. It happened here so here is where they will talk about it a lot. But JFK’s ghost was creeping me the hell out.

It was a good thing that I made plans to stay out of Dallas during the weekend of my birthday. And just so you know, people in other cities don't make a fuss over the 45th anniversary of JFK’s death. Maybe they just have a different way of reflecting on it or perhaps they aren't particularly interested. Either way, it was a nice to celebrate without a Jack Ruby-tini on the cocktail menu.

1, 2, 3 ..... FRIDA!

In our own lives, there are things that stay deep within us. Problems, sorrows and painful events that we are afraid to talk about because they are too agonizing. We don’t even think about them because they hurt too much. But Frida Kahlo took the painful things in her life and painted them; exposing her most vulnerable and most tender spots. She allows all of us to go deep within her soul to feel those sorrows and understand what her life was like. It has been a dream of mine to attend a Frida Kahlo exhibit because I have always been fascinated by the brutal and beautiful honesty of her paintings.

Frida Kahlo’s exhibit in San Francisco was so popular that you had to buy a ticket for a specific time. In order to control the heavy foot traffic going in and out of the museum, you could only enter the exhibit at the time stamped on your ticket. We had a 1:00 p.m. start time and at 12:45 a short line was already forming inside the museum. My heart was pounding and I could hardly wait to get in. Around the corner I could see two of her paintings and that made me even more anxious.

The guy taking the tickets saw me and looked at the time on my ticket. He said, “It’s only 12:50, you know.” I smiled and explained that I was excited and just couldn’t wait. He took my ticket, and as he ripped the side off he said, “Three, two, one, FRIDA!” He opened the gate and I flew through.

As you slowly drift from painting to painting, you feel as if you are reading someone’s journal. You are going through the life of an outspoken woman who endured unthinkable pain, suffered tremendous losses, had outstanding gains, beat many odds and was usually circled in controversy. You see the deepest, darkest places of her life and no matter how tragic or beautiful, you can’t look away.

I walked up to “Henry Ford Hospital” in which Frida painted the excruciating pain of one of her many miscarriages. Previously, I could only glance at prints of the painting because it was so filled with heartache I could hardly stand it. But as I stood in front of the real thing, I gazed at it for what seemed like days. I ached for Frida and for the people I know who have gone through that. I had a glimpse of what it means to endure that kind of sorrow and I wept. I found many others in the room were weeping, too.

I saw my favorite painting “The Love Embrace of the Universe, the Earth (Mexico), Myself, Diego and Señor Xólotl” and was amazed by the emotion seeping out of it. Frida’s devotion and undying love for Diego Rivera is obvious in this painting as in many other paintings. But in this one, I also see balance and a mutual need for each other. I see a natural and spiritual connection between them. To me, this painting is a touching love story.

Many times I am asked why I like Frida’s paintings. Some people have told me that her work is “too bloody” and “makes no sense.” I admit that Frida’s paintings are intense but that is what sets them apart. Her work doesn’t just speak; it screams. It weeps. Her paintings are alive and they give you a humbling, honest look into a woman’s life whose deep-rooted issues were not always pretty. Sometimes life is brutal and difficult to look at. Sometimes it is as vibrant and fresh as her painting, “Viva La Vida - The Watermelons.” Either way, her paintings are the real Frida and an invitation to see life through different eyes.

San. Fran. Thank you, ma'am.

In early September, my friend D and I had a very quick trip to San Francisco. We landed on a Friday and were gone by Sunday. Our main reason for going was to see the Frida Kahlo exhibit at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. I will need a whole different post to cover Frida so for now, let’s talk about San Pancho.

Our stay was less than 48 hours long but we crammed a lot in there. The museum, Lombard Street, Fisherman’s Wharf, Alcatraz, Golden Gate Bridge, cable cars, sourdough bread and more Painted Ladies than I could count. (Ahem, these Painted Ladies - get your mind out of the gutter.)

The thing I like about San Francisco is the public transportation. I’m a big fan of trains, buses, mass transit, etc… and San Fran has done it right. It was super easy to get around and super cheap. Oh, and it is super crowded so I hope you don’t mind odd smells or the occasional inappropriate graze.

The thing that surprised me about San Francisco was the weird hours they keep. It was around 8:00 p.m. California time on a Friday night and we wanted to grab a quick bite near our hotel in the shopping district. We were exhausted and didn’t feel like making a big deal out of dinner. After walking around several blocks, we found that all the restaurants had closed around 7. We actually had to eat at an ice skating rink concession stand that night. Gross!

The thing I really dislike about San Francisco was their weather. They have a horrible climate there – on one block you are sweating bullets and on another block you are covered up with scarves and gloves. You have to be prepared for all kinds of weather in just one day and when you are traveling, that is a lot to carry around. In fact, carrying the cold weather clothes was so cumbersome that I actually lost my scarf. As I type this, someone in the Haight/Ashbury district is cozying up with my $3 Old Navy scarf.

The thing I love about San Francisco is their diversity. There are so many different cultures there and each seems to have their own neighborhood. Their diversity brings such interesting people, foods, traditions and lifestyles into one city. Way cool! They are so different but live so harmoniously. Well, except maybe this guy.

On Sunday, we got to the airport and discovered that our plane was delayed. That caused us to miss our connecting flight in L.A. After several heated conversations and much stress, they were able to get us to L.A. and then we had to fly to Albuquerque. From there we flew to Denver. From there we finally flew into Dallas. We were supposed to have landed in DFW at 6:00 p.m. on Sunday but instead we landed on Monday at 1:00 a.m. After four flights in 12 hours across 4 states, it was only fitting that they lost our luggage and it wasn’t returned to us until Tuesday. Fun!

Frida and me hanging out by Alcatraz.












The last pic of my scarf.

Lombard Street