Tag Archives: adventure

Back to school…

26 Feb

I never finished my college education, and while it hasn’t stopped me from excelling at work, achieving promotions and higher salaries, it did make me feel like I was missing something important. You know, an education.

salute to education

Late last year I decided what the hell, why not go back to college and get a degree? I can take courses online and one day I will matriculate my happy ass across a stage wearing a robe and cap and whoop it up. Provided of course, I get my degree before I’m in a walker.

See, I’m 49 now and will be 50 this year. I have many many many courses to take and seriously worry I’ll be retired before I get my coveted degree. Now, I’m not doing this to start work in a new field – after taking a peek today at my retirement, pension, and 403b plan from my employer, I am more committed than ever to stay a happy employee there until at least 2022 (that’s the earliest retirement date I can take to get my pension.) At age 56, I may have to take an early retirement just so I can go to school full-time.

My first college course is almost over – this is the final week and I have one essay left to complete. This course is called Success Seminar and teaches the value of a liberal arts education and prepares the student for success, including how to use APA format, how to research topics and sources, and how to properly cite them. In fact, we were given an assignment to choose a topic from our Issues For Debate in Sociology and write a thesis paper. I don’t recall EVER writing a thesis, and of course knew nothing up front about the structure of a research paper – the whole intro and hook, three paragraphs for the thesis’ main points, and conclusion. However, I think I did pretty well, in fact, I score a 94 on the paper. You can find it here and share a giggle with me. The topic I chose was Hip Hop. Yep, this 49 year old, white, suburban woman knows a shit ton about hip hop, yes? I totally relate to that culture and listen to underground rappers all the time. On the other hand, my thesis took a more commercial spin. If you read it, drop a comment and tell me what you think.

I’m glad I’m back in school – it’s opening my eyes to a lot more than I thought it would. The experience has been amazing so far. Next week, I start Psychology 101. Finally I’ll be able to interpret those crazy dreams of mine…

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A new life…

3 Jan

I took the past year off. From a lot of things. From my music to singing to guitar. From things that made me happy. Like writing. I didn’t do this on purpose of course. I did it without even thinking. It’s been a year. A lot has changed in the past year. And in many ways, nothing has changed.

My e-pen to e-paper writing skills are still a bit e-rusty, so this post should be short. Sweet perhaps, but maybe a bit salty too.

My beloved mother passed away on 12/27/13 – for those of you that haven’t read or knew about this – just recapping. She was quite a woman. Solid, humorous, outrageous – with a huge sparkly personality only outmatched by her love of huge sparkly jewelry. I did sing at her service, and while (to me) it was out of tune, and I sang through tears in my throat, it was really just for her. And it was OK. The rain that January day let up enough for us to send balloons up to greet her. The message on my balloon was simple: “I’ll never forget you.”

On Memorial Day, I planted the seed paper we gave at the service along with her ash dust. On Labor Day, she bloomed.

Mom flowers
Us 006Rockstar stood next to me at every change.

Held me close and made me believe in hope.

His life took an amazing turn in 2014. With his life rising from the ashes, my phoenix and I made plans to start ours afresh.

We took the next step and moved in together just after our 3rd year anniversary trip to Hawaii in June.

Since then, we’ve settled into “new couple” patterns. You know, kissing and cuddling, bickering over chores, cooking together, and dog duty.

The usual shenanigans. It’s been a hell of a ride. A good one. A very happy one!

I spent most of the summer getting a tattoo of all things. It all started when I decided to tattoo my mom’s thumbprint somewhere and ended with a pretty big back piece. Ain’t gonna lie, this hurt a LOT. The thumbprint is actually inside a frame on my lower left thigh.

After I sold my mother’s house, and paid off her debt, and split what remained, I started asking myself what I should do with my share. What she would want me to do. Well, she’d want me to invest in a face lift, I’M SURE, but that’s just not my way. However, Botox is something that I can always get behind.

She always said she loved talking with me about stuff because I always listened to her and gave her good advice. I think she’d be proud that I’m using her legacy to go back to school to get a degree in Psychology. I start on Monday (Jan 5). Wish me luck because while I took the past year off from some things, work isn’t one of them.

2015 will bring a lot of change for me. I turn 50 this year. I have wonderful friends who fill my life with laughter. I have the most loving man whose smile lights up my day. I have memories, voice mails, and maybe a video or two of my mom and while I can’t quite yet listen or watch, they are there for me when I’m ready. In the meantime, I can and will squeeze every ounce of life from and to this life I have now.

The Hollywood kiss…

2 Nov

Four years ago, my best friend lost her mother – as in, she died. Long struggle with brain cancer. She wanted me and the hubby there as support so of course we went.

It was there I met HIM the first time. HE was her brother’s best friend. Like me, HE was married too. We sat next to each other and over idle chit chat, we found a love of fine wine and good food. And maybe more, but we were both married at the time.

Fast forward two years.

I met HIM again at his best friend’s (my best friend’s brother’s) fall music festival in Sonoma. HE was now divorced, and I was recently separated. We caught up on each other’s failed marriages and found some laughter. But since I was dating Rock at the time, that’s all there was.

Fast forward two years.

About a month ago, I returned to the fall music festival in Sonoma with a group of girls and HE was there. Single. And so was I. Single.

We connected. Kissed. Laughed. Talked. Shared good wine, and good food. Over some Pad Thai, and later some Paella, we talked about us. The trouble with this one is this – he lives in Hollywood. I live in the burbs of San Francisco.

That afternoon, we agreed to see where this would lead. For starters, he would bring me to his neck of the woods and we would go from there. About a week later, we agreed on the weekend and he sent me a ticket.

I wasn’t nervous. At least, not until that morning, when all of a sudden, it dawned on me that I was going to visit a man I barely knew for two nights and he was, well, living amongst the rich and famous. Since he was my best friend’s brother by choice (she grew up knowing him), I wasn’t worried in any other regard.

Kiss me like you mean it...

Kiss me like you mean it…

When I arrived, he gave me what I lovingly refer to as a Hollywood kiss – you know the kind… Bags drop, full embrace, lips lock. It was very nice. Smiling still, thinking about it.

His plan for the first night was to bring me to his place, meet his cute little puppy, have a martini, then go to a swanky little French restaurant on Sunset. So up we go, through various canyons and into the hills. He happens to live in the Hollywood Hills you see, and since I’m not really sure what that meant before going there, let me tell you… Stars live there. As we pass Kanye West’s abode, with security crew outside, I start to realize what I might have got myself into. You see, HE lives a few doors down.

After a stiff martini, he opens a lovely bottle of french wine. It speaks to me as I’m a huge wine whore. And it relaxes me. But alas, we must leave his surreal digs and venure out to dinner. As we passed the Chateau Marmont, the Viper Room, and yes, the Pink Taco, all within minutes of his home, I started to feel this was still as surreal as I thought.

Over oysters and more wine, we meet two lovely older ladies and laughed and took pictures. Now, this is what I’m used to. Having silly fun and being me. It was a wonderful night and it felt very special.

The next morning, I awakened without the dreaded red wine hang over. Yay me! He was making breakfast for us, and I promised, while I’m not a huge morning eater, I would definitely try what he made. He made sweet potato pancakes with creme fraische and caviar and heirloom tomatoes with burrata cheese. WHAT’S NOT LOVE THERE??? Except I could only eat half, because, well, I don’t eat that much in the morning.

For lunch, he drove us up the coast to Malibu. He’s still regretting his choice of fried food, but we spent the entire time both on the drive and in the place laughing and talking. Afterward, we went to a swanky bar for a martini on the ocean and met some wonderful couple celebrating her birthday.

When we got back to his place, we took his little puppy out for a walk and chatted with some neighbors. I sorta forgot where I was. You know, Hollywood Hills. I felt a kinship with this woman about my age who is about to go to Tibet for 12 weeks on some mission (Hell, people in Berkeley do that all the time right??) and asked her to come over for a glass of wine. She said maybe next time – in a very sweet way – and it wasn’t until I got back to HIS place that I realized, this was an actress who probably thought I was insane.

HE was charming the entire weekend and we clearly like each other. A lot. As he dropped me back off at the airport on Sunday, we once again share a Hollywood style kiss.  We shall see where this bi-coastal friendship will go. Like I said in my earlier post, I’m in no rush.

———————————————————-

Post-note… I wasn’t feeling so hot after so much wine and martini’s that weekend. I was sorta hungover on Sunday. HE sent me a gift afterward… A beautiful luxurious chenille robe to comfort me. I got it last Wednesday, just in time to enjoy while I was suffering a head cold.

Next time, he visits my hood and sees how simply I live. 🙂

Wordless Wednesday

14 Aug

Serenity in the desert…

This is what the doctor prescribed and I’m going to take my medication as directed. I leave next week…

I heart traveling…

1 Feb

I recently hired a new product manager who works out of our Pasadena office. Which means I get to go visit my favorite cupcakeries (Dots and Violets). Schwing!

But this also means I have to get my ass back on an airplane for the hour long trip from Oakland to Burbank.

It goes like this folks… I fly Southwest Airlines, with the humorous flight attendants who like to sing and make horse-y noises when we land, and crappy Finlandia vodka. It’s like public transit in the sky, with open seating.

Because I’m a seasoned traveler, I’m an A-lister which is slang for “I get to board before you people with your small kids and oversized shopping bags. Ha ha!” and I do my best to discourage ANYONE from sitting in the middle seat. I spread all my stuff onto that seat, I talk loudly on my phone (even if I’m not really talking to anyone). I turn my back to the aisle and avoid eye contact AT ALL TIMES. One false move and the next thing you know, you’ve got a neighbor who wants the arm rest and a new BFF.

Now because I’m very thin and drop dead gorgeous (and apparently conceited), I tend to attract people to the middle seat. It’s not so bad when it’s an Asian person as they are generally thin themselves and tend to keep to themselves, but when it’s the fatties… Sorry heavy people, I must qualify the term “fatty”. If your waist size and/or overall circumference exceeds that of a plane seat, you’re a fatty. Otherwise, you’re just American.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I feel all sorts of sadz for fatties on flights. They just look so uncomfortable, all squished in and overflowing like that, but I don’t want them sitting on or rubbing up against me. It offends me.

Last week, “Pat” sat next to me. You know what I’m saying here. Dudette with a ‘stache, man-hair, man-hands, and man-pants. But with boobs. Pat was a 280-lady. She lifted the arm rest between us and literally shared my seat.

In fairness she was nice – we chatted about our mutual love of San Francisco – but she ate a scone on the plane and it kept crumbling onto her moobs and when she brushed said crumbs off her shelf, it landed all over me. Plus, she had some sort of apnia issue and kept making a gurling/grunting sound. It was undaunting and freaked me the fuck out. Did I mention Pat farted twice? I held my breath and placed my wrist against my nose just in case the gas smelled as rank as I pictured it.

Mostly, travel is easy. Except when I get lost. And I do love my heavenly shower and room service, and I don’t have to make the bed and there’s always fresh towels, and all my food and booze is free. So for one hour, I guess I can shut the fuck up and deal with some discomfort. Oh travel, how I heart thee.

2011 in review…

31 Dec

If this was 2011, what the fuck will 2012 have in store?

Fuckety McMutherfucker. Yes, I just said that. And it fits the year in review.

Started out 2011 proclaiming I will rock my inner Xena, not taking shit anymore and fighting with some badass gladiator heels to boot.

I had drinks with a dildo model, started questioning everything, shared a shockingly funny story involving a big ole black dong, got my stilettos posted on a vodka website, went to a charity ski event and table top danced with a hot, young actor, found out some guys think it’s perfectly okay to share erectile dysfunction over morning coffee, told everyone how I got my brother arrested, and how my friend has a dominatrix in the family.

And that was all BEFORE I ran away from home in June.

Since then, I put BoldlyMocking on hiatus and created this blog, as a way to share my rebirth.

So since I left, here’s what’s been going on:

  1. I crashed with Juli for a week
  2. I realized I didn’t just leave my husband, I left my dogs
  3. I started dating the Rockstar
  4. I moved into a room in someone’s house, without a kitchen mind you
  5. I started paying attention to everyday sounds, like traffic, and wind
  6. I realized I didn’t mind killing my own spiders, but I still don’t like it
  7. I decided I was spiritual, if you can call reading my Sagittarius horoscope spiritual
  8. I realized I hate night sweats, and errratic visits from Aunt Flo
  9. I saw my doctor about sharp pains in my head and realized I wasn’t actually crazy
  10. I got lost on a hike and realized it was okay
  11. I decided I didn’t hate cigars
  12. I wanted an urban lifestyle
  13. I decided the urban lifestyle came with drawbacks and homeless people
  14. I moved into a suburban 790 sq foot condo with out-dated appliances
  15. I defended myself against the friends who judged me unfairly
  16. I found out the hubby is dating (and she’s an ‘older-shorter-fluffy-36D-girl’)
  17. I bought some risque “stuff” online and my neighbors received it
  18. I started to find myself despite the chaos
  19. I realized the hubby is still not ready to talk to me not to mention see my face
  20. I decided I quite like that the Rockstar is living on a sailboat in the SF Bay
  21. I moved into a 790 sq foot condo with fanfuckingtastic appliances

Thanksgiving and Christmas were special to me this year. Both were relaxed events, unlike the past and as I laid my head on my Mom’s lap on Christmas night, I felt a sense of peace and calm I can’t remember ever feeling.

I’m still scared. Having been married to the hubby for almost a quarter of a century, every experience feels bittersweet. Even now as I type this, I think back to 1:45p today, when the Rockstar and I were on our way to the cabin and we passed the hubby and his girlfriend. Picture slow-mo heads turning and eyebrows raised.

If I had one word to describe 2011 it would have to be REMARKABLE.

Fore and aft…

1 Nov

As most of you know, I like to spend time with The Rockstar. He makes me laugh, keeps me sane, and boy, can the boy cook!

One of the very first conversations we had was about his wet-dream to sail around the world. He’s been charting this course for years and has spent a lot of time watching boat porn and chatting with other like minded seamen yachtsmen.

When he first told me he wanted to move out of his place in Berkeley and onto a boat in the marina, I took one look at said boat and small kitchen and told him “hewl nao”. I mean, y’aint gonna get this girlie in that galley. I’d rather walk the plank. Of course, I’d be wearing rubber soled stilettos but still.

But like most waking dreams, this one is about to go live. He found a much nicer 34′ sailboat, named Mis Demeanor or Mis Defiance or something equally fitting, and he’s battening down the hatch and fixin to move aboard.

The thought of adventures on the high seas, or at least the SF Bay, are starting to sink in. (Anyone counting the metaphors here?) There’s nothing more awesome than sailing under the Bay Bridge and nothing more beautiful than the North Bay and its fog-enshrouded rolling hills.

Looks like I’ll be rigging up some sheets and turning the wheel in his cockpit very soon indeed.

I’m very much looking forward (aka fore) to this. When life presents opportunities, you better take them. Regret is a bitter pill usually taken with massive amounts of alcohol. Well, I never minded the massive amounts of alcohol but you won’t see this girl swirling into an abyss of regret.