The Season of the Witch

I'm not certain why I've titled this post in that way, but it seems apropos. After 10+ days of cold, gray rain, too many health-related lab tests, an instance of PMS that would have made Lucretia Borgia seem friendly and compassionate by comparison, and various other Not So Fun things, I am finding myself depleted, both spiritually and creatively. Probably emotionally as well.

I find myself haunted by mental images of kittens hanging onto the knotted ends of ropes and the muffled theme from Jaws.

I know that this is all me. I have not recently allowed for any replenishment of self because there has been So Much To Do. Days that start at 5:30am and see me home from work at 6:30pm leave little in the way of leisure time. There are meals to be made and eaten, dishes to be washed, laundry to be done, studying to be done....

All too soon, it is time to take the night-time host of medications and go to sleep before 5:30am appears on the horizon again.

I often start the week with great intentions of attending synagogue on Friday evenings but, by the time Friday rolls around, Amazing GF and I are so exhausted from the week that driving an hour to synagogue on Friday night sounds more dreadful than refreshing. However, we have not been able to figure out how to celebrate Shabbat at home regularly either.

Needless to say, I have a new list of Things To Figure Out.

Number One on that list is how to let go of the impossible standards to which I hold myself. Perfection is impossible--I know that intellectually--and yet I cannot let my mistakes go. I'm not entirely certain why though I know it has been a life-long problem.

Anyway, I'm going to stop thinking about it for now because it is distracting me from Things I Should Be Doing, which is not productive at the moment.

I hope you are all well and happy.

Love to you all!

When Life Hands You Free Lemons, Do You Still Have to Make Lemonade?

Because, apparently, when the Free Avocados are out of season, it is then time for Free Lemons. And let me just tell you what Free Lemons taste like, shall I?

Because Free Lemons come directly off of someone's personal lemon tree, these lemons are BEYOND fresh. Their skins are soft and fragrant with floral notes worthy of any bee. Their flesh is more sweet than sour and so delicate. Also, did I mention that they are the size of hand-grenades? I mean, really. LEMON-FLAVORED HAND-GRENADES! It boggles the mind.

In any case, I shall consider making lemon curd and lemon ice cream and lemon vinaigrette in addition to the lemonade because lemons are not just a one trick pony. No siree!

The Free Clementines and Free Oranges season is also upon us now. We have those right outside our window, so I will not be picking up many. But still. Free Citrus is nothing to shake a stick at. Unless they are Free Zombie Citrus and then you have a whole host of other problems that deserve a higher priority. Like adjusting your medications.

But I digress.

Today is my first day back at work as a person who is officially engaged to be married (present political ideology aside) and I find I am strangely more...settled. Is that odd? To feel more settled once one has asked for the hand of the love of one's life?

I don't know if it is odd or not; I just like the feeling. :)

So yeah, I asked Amazing GF if she would marry me and she (oh joyful me!) said yes. After which I notified our 15 year old niece, as I had promised to do. Amazing GF put the kibosh on any wedding planning until after her fourth and final semester of nursing school is over (this upcoming May) but I pointed out that Awesome Niece probably had the entire wedding planned for us already and would let us know when to arrive and what to wear.

I am not even half kidding. ;)

I've known for a while that I was going to propose on our second anniversary and I once asked Dr. BestFriend if she thought that was too soon. To which she said, "You'll have been dating for two years and will have known each other for thirteen years by then. I think you're okay."

Which is true. And we were better than okay. :) But the fancy schmancy speech I had planned before I asked kinda...evaporated when the moment arrived and, while it wasn't the most romantic or most beautiful proposal in the history of Humankind, it was everything I had hoped it would be and (oh joyful me!) she said yes. Which is really the most important part. ;)

Hours later, Amazing GF realized that she could have given an altogether different answer and she wondered what I would have done if she had. I told her that if she had said no, I would have accepted her answer as gracefully as possible but that it wouldn't change how I felt about her or my commitment to her. For those of you who watch "Bones," basically I told her I wouldn't have gone all Booth-y on her.

(For those of you who don't watch "Bones," start. The seasons can be obtained fairly inexpensively from Costco or Netflix. The writing is superb even if the special effects can sometimes be...gooey. Strong female characters interacting with strong male characters and the whole series just ooooooooozes intellect. Just sayin'.)

Anyway, I am so fabulously happy to be marrying such a wonderful and amazing woman and I cannot tell you how over the moon I am about the whole thing. Words do not seem to do my feelings justice at all.

So...what did you do on your vacation? ;)

Love to you all!

Is This Fog I See Before Me?

Well, as I feared, sometimes I am not going to have so much time to update what is going on out here in Sunny California.

However, I have a few minutes here and there today to devote to updating you, My Loyal Readers, and so I shall begin.

First, fog.

Good Golly, Miss Molly, I have discovered what the opposite of sunshine out here is and it is fog. LOTS AND LOTS OF FOG.

And the infamous Bay Area, where one would expect such a weather phenomena, is over two hours away by car, so I cannot blame it. More's the pity.

Accompanying the fog and, really, the last two weeks or so, are increasingly colder temperatures, such that turning on my electric blanket is now a nightly occurrence and I have also altered my showering schedule so that I take them in the evening just before bed. This allows me to get into a warm bed directly afterward instead of into a cold car, making my morning commute much more pleasant, I must say.

One interesting consequence of turning on the electric blanket nightly is a phenomena (today's episode is apparently brought to us by the word 'phenomena') known as "catacles." You have, of course, heard of barnacles, which is not a skin disease you contract while mucking stalls but rather a sea creature of some strength that makes its home on the hulls of ships and the outer cartilage of large sea mammals, for example. The barnacle "gloms" onto whatever surface will support it with such strength that one would have to scrape it off using some sort of metal implement if one wished for it to go away.

The "catacle" works in the same way except the surface is generally me (under the electric blanket) and the "catacles" are The Furry Babies (i.e. our cats). While I don't generally need something to scrape them off, getting out of the bed in order to make a visit to the bathroom is often a contortionally complex feat worthy of Houdini himself. Getting back into bed is no easier and, quite frankly, I think I deserve extra points for doing both while more than half asleep.

This morning, after extracting myself and getting ready for work, I returned to the bedroom to find The Furry Babies curled up together on my side of the bed, their sweet little feet tucked under themselves to keep warm. The were both giving me baleful looks and, when I checked the controls, I saw why: the electric blanket had turned itself off. Since they do not understand safety features and since Amazing GF was still asleep on her side of the bed, I turned my side back on. Sometimes, it's better to keep the peace. (And generally, I don't schedule extra time in the mornings to tend to multiple lacerations....)

I have begun my walking program again. Transitions and health matters kept me from making this a new habit but I believe I have all of this worked out now and, weather permitting, I will be walking 1.75 miles every day at lunch. I mapped my route on WalkJogRun.net, which I highly recommend as a way both to map a suitable walking route and to monitor/record your progress. I also recommend Sparkpeople.com for those of you wanting to record both caloric intake and fitness issues. Since I am not encouraged to count calories at the moment (dietary restrictions make counting calories a somewhat depressing chore as I am not really able to keep up with my nutritional needs so much right now) I am only recording fitness goals at the moment.

I am under the impression, currently, that I simply need to be more active and my weight will improve--just like it did the last time. It really was that simple the last time. I simply parked a mile away from my office and walked to and from the building every (clement) day. Weight simply vanished. I changed some of my eating habits (before they were changed for me by a persnickety gut) but nothing too dramatic. Yet still, I went from a size 22/24 to a 16/18. It's time to get to my goal of a size 12.

Now I would like to wax perplexed about my morning breakfast habits.

I eat two meals a day at work during the work week: breakfast and lunch. Lately, as I am walking in from the parking lot, I have thought to myself, "Oh, good. I'm almost inside and I can toast my bagel and have my tea." Tea, coffee's older, more demure cousin, has been my recent obsession since I can no longer have coffee. I have six boxes of tea on my desk right now. I love having something hot to drink in the morning that will help take the chill away.

Except.

Except invariably, I will pour the hot water over the tea bag...aaaaaaaaaaaand completely forget about it! I cannot figure this out at all. I crave a hot drink in the morning, look forward to it practically my entire commute, go through all the trouble to have myriad choices of tea for my imbibing pleasure--then completely bollocks it all up by forgetting it's there until it is, at best, lukewarm.

Oi to the frakkin' vey.

Anyway, this has been another incredibly varied and confused episode of My Life in the Sunshine for your reading pleasure.

I hope all of you are well and happy and enjoying Fall.

Love to you all!

My Work, Let Me Tell You of It

Several of you have asked and let it not be said that I am not a slave to the demands of my loyal followers. So, today, I bring you word of what my new work-life is like.

May the tale not bore you to tears (though I happen to find the work riveting and my days just FLY by!).

So I am the new Network Coordinator at a large Northern CA University in charge of maintaining the delicate ratio of data entry going out of my cubicle and the telephone calls coming into my cubicle. So far.

I am also in charge of a certain number of meetings and conferences per year (bigger than a breadbox in size and yes, I will travel) and the maintenance of my department's website, aka it's window to the world.

I have been here a total of 18 business days and I adore my work. I cannot stress that enough. It is a chaos manager's dream.

I get data. I move data along a process pathway until the data is "complete."

I plan/organize/execute meetings, then I write and distribute minutes for those meetings.

I process reimbursements until the reimbursement is deemed approved and is paid.

I shepherd graduate certificates from one eminent physician/dean to another for signatures then send those certificates on to the correct site for distribution to the hardworking physician who earned it.

I maintain and update our department's segment of our website.

I troubleshoot with applicants, colleagues, etc. to solve their particular problems when they arise.

This job is a checky-box lover's dream.

No, it really is. I have taken it upon myself to see how many days a week I can leave the office with all my data entered/moved/processed for the day. I'm competing with myself to see how up-to-date I can be. I enjoy this greatly. I love--love--things that can be finalized eventually. Even if it is an ongoing process, even if the deadline isn't for 12 months, knowing that 95% of my work HAS a deadline is heady stuff.

Efficiency. Organization. Completion. Structure.

Watch me soar. No, really. Watch me.

Now, I know that eventually there will be bad days and mistakes and things I wish had gone better. I know that somewhere along the line, someday, something is going to get overlooked or fall through the cracks or just completely fall apart.

That's okay. That's life. That's what keeps us all from wearing capes and tights and generally being insufferable all the time.

That being said, I see myself working here indefinitely. I genuinely like the people. I love the work. I feel like the position fits me very well and that I have the opportunity to make it grow into something no one has yet envisioned.

Like I said--very heady stuff.

I was telling Amazing GF the other day that I don't know how or even when it happened, but a very long time ago, somewhere in my development, I developed a sense of validation whenever I helped another being. Helping people to solve their problems, helping make systems and structures more efficient and productive, making people's lives easier somehow--all of this is what I love to do.

Seriously, maybe I was an English butler in a past life. I loved the movies Remains of the Day, Gosford Park, and My Man Godfrey not only for their individual merits as entertainment but because I identified with the butler. Let me be very specific here: the butler. Not the head housekeeper. Not ever her (though Emma Thompson did a magnificent job portraying hers in Remains of the Day).

In my mind, the housekeeping staff in those films, while important and critical to the smooth running of the home, did very little to directly affect the efficiency, productivity, and pleasure of the people living in or visiting the home. Butlers, on the other hand, (and to a certain extent, personal maids) made those things their life's work. To the point that Stevens' professional duty even outweighs his personal happiness and he forgoes a relationship with Miss Kenton (Emma Thompson) in deference to his duty (yes, Remains of the Day again--I did mention I loved the film, right?).

Let me be the first to assure you, though, what happened to Stevens is not going to happen to me. I would never, ever place my profession above my love and family. I couldn't do that to Amazing GF, our Babies, or my fabulous family. But I can relate to it. Very much so.

Hmmm... Perhaps I should look for fictional and non-fictional accounts of English butlers' lives to read for a while. If I ever get back to reading.

Okay, it's time for work now. I got here a whole 45 minutes early today, so I thought I'd finish this post.

Love to you all!

It Never Fails

You know that old adage? The one about growing up and becoming just like your same-gendered parent? The adage doesn't really specify whether that happens gradually, like erosion, or suddenly and without warning, like a really bad sneeze. All I know is

a) It's true and
b) It's not a bad thing.

In the short amount of time since I've moved in with My Amazing GF and our Babies, I have become my mother. Or, rather, like my mother to a certain extent.

All right, I'll stop beating around the bush: I get up before 6am, make the bed every morning, and wash dishes every night. A significant amount of my weekly pondering is now made up of thoughts along the line of "How can I make our little home more [efficient, prettier, comfortable, happier] for everyone?" or "We need a [storage shed, outdoor patio set, new lawn mower, garden, quad]." I love to do laundry. Hanging up my clothing in the closet is a joy (especially with my new life-changing hangers, but more on that later....)

Those of you who know me well know what this means. I've become (happily) domesticated.

No longer the wild (Ha!), untamed (HA!) single woman with no attachments, I have become the Happy Little (Lesbian) Homemaker.

Well, it was bound to happen, really. All those years of effort and investment by my wonderful mother should not have gone to waste in the end. I even wear dresses and make-up occasionally now, too, so I can't even claim to be untouched by that societal norm, either. Though that has more to do with Dr. BestFriend than it does my mother. Dr. BestFriend was there when I tried on 25 outfits, most of them dresses/skirts, was there when I purchased $140 worth of make-up, and even bought me a dress for the occasion of my conversion to Judaism. Dr. BestFriend is truly an Eshet Chayil, a Woman of Valor.

Segue with me, won't you? Did you know that there is no feminine equivalent for the Yiddish word mensch? Dr. BestFriend and I decided that was not acceptable and the closest I could come to a feminine alternative was Eshet Chayil, A Woman of Valor.

There you go. Your language lesson for the day.

Segue again, yes? You know what I absolutely love? I love having lunch during the workday with My Amazing GF. Do you know what that's like for me after having been on opposite sides of the country for so long?

Anyway, we now return you to your program, already in progress....

What was I talking about? Oh. Yes. How I've begun exhibiting signs of becoming like my mother.

Let me reiterate that I do not, in any way, consider this to be a bad thing. In fact, it's a very good thing. But it does occur to me that I will be sending a very long T'shuvah letter to my mother this year, apologizing for all those years that I dismissed her teachings as...unnecessary to my life. Clearly, I was mistaken.

So, let this be a lesson to you, my lovelies. Never say never. Some lessons ripen in time and after much experience.

I will try to give you all an update on my new work life in the next few days. The more I learn there, the more I love my new job and my new department.

Have a great weekend!

Love to you all!

The Land of Free Avocados

So, I thought I should blatantly steal take inspiration from my friend Stefanie and her amazing blog (http://onelifepercustomer.blogspot.com/) and start a blog of my own to keep everyone caught up on the goings on here in Sunny Northern California without having to make 17 phone calls a week. Difficult to do unless I make Very Good Use of my evening commute. I mean, it's long, but not that that long. And, frankly, I don't want it to be any longer.

Really, I don't.

The Babies and My Amazing GF need me to be home at a reasonable hour. Well, that's what I tell myself. In actuality, it's completely the other way around. Selfishly, selfishly so.

So what shall I update you on?

The Big Move took three nights/four days largely due to My Amazing GF's superhero-grade driving skills. No, you don't understand. We did 1000 miles in one day and she drove 700 of that all alone. Well, I was there, obviously. But I was just sitting. Like a lump.

That segment of the trip included the entirety of Utah, which apparently was having an off day or something because it--well--it smelled. The whole way across. Four hours of construction cones and a really weird smell do not make for easy driving.

Yes, of course I'm knitting her a cape for Chanukkah. What do you take me for?

We got home on the evening of 8/17 to much fanfare and applause, but very little unpacking. We held off on that until the next day because we had a few days before My Amazing GF's new semester started and before I had to begin the New Hire Gauntlet at the office. I'm so glad we had that time to transition, as brief as it was. I needed it to become accustomed to our new routine and to get to know the area better via my new TomTom, named River Song.

I named her River Song because My Amazing GF's GPS is named Hermione already (because she knows everything) and because my GPS keeps leaping off the dashboard of her own accord, suddenly and without warning. As The Doctor would say, "Yeah, she does that."

What else shall I update you on?

Oh, the weather. Yes.

While you on the East Coast battle record highs, outrageous humidity, earthquakes, hurricanes, and tornadoes, I have had the exact same weather every day since 8/18: sunny and 95, low humidity, cloudless skies. Hence, the name of this blog.

Do I go to the pool as much as humanly possible? Yes. Do I feel guilty about that? Hell. No.

However, according to my mother, my recent relocation from the East Coast caused its complete destabilization, leading to the earthquake specifically, and I am now under orders to send someone back to NC who is my approximate weight and height. I'm not certain I can fulfill that order, really. Why would anyone who has experienced summers here in Northern California suddenly want to trade that in for wading through warm orange Jello on a daily basis until the end of October?

Everyone here is positively wonderful!

Of course, it goes without saying--but I will anyway--that My Amazing GF and the Babies (of the furry feline variety) are the most wonderful, most amazing, most loving family a girl could ever have and I am--quite simply--head over heels in love. No apologies, no confusion, no doubt.

My new extended family--Super SIL, Everyman BIL, Farrier Nephew, Farrier Nephew's GF, Awesome Niece, and MIL--are as amazing as they always were even now that I've moved into their lives more permanently. Awesome Niece even brought me a banana milkshake yesterday, which shows you exactly the kind of person she is: a KEEPER. ;)

The office is wonderful, too, with wonderful people and free avocados in the breakroom, the same way I'm used to seeing free zucchini and tomatoes in NC. FREE AVOCADOS, PEOPLE. Seriously. What's not to love?

Okay, that's enough for a first post. I'll try to update somewhat regularly so all those people who I love in NC don't have to call each other up on the phone and say, "Do you EVER hear from Erin? What is she DOING out there?"

Love to you all!