Sick as a dog

I can't remember the last time I was this sick. I started feeling bad right after my birthday outing in Pasadena Labor Day weekend and it progressively got worse with the height of it last week.

It was mostly just a cough. No fever, even though I was sweating more than usual. My skin would be cold, but I'd be sweating like it was 115 degrees out. It was gross man. Aside from the cough (and incessant sweating), I was mostly sluggish. Walking the 2 blocks to the bus wore me out. And the stairs here in the office, oh man....not only did it take everything out of me, I'd go into a coughing fit for like 20 minutes.

I was taking everything you could imagine and that's saying a lot considering I'm a "let it run its course and suffer through it" kind of girl. Between Walgreens and the Albertsons pharmacy, I was buying pharmaceuticals every day. Some things helped, some temporarily, others I was just taking just to take them.

This past weekend, I detox at home; trying to get everything out of my body that I had put in during the past week, hoping that maybe then, some of the medicine would start working again. And I slept and tried to get as much rest as I could.

Unfortunately, it also meant that I missed my niece's baby shower and I didn't see any of the three new releases. :(

I took one extra day at home on Monday. One last day to recover. I even gave my body a little talk. Told it enough was enough. I had too much going on to let it keep me down this long. It didn't really work, but at least I felt much better Tuesday morning than I did Monday morning. And even though I was still grossing out my coworkers with my incessant mucus hacking, at least I didn't let it keep me down.

Nights this past week have been horrible with all the coughing, but each day I've awoken better than the day before. Today, my voice sounds worse than I feel and I'm not sweating as much as I was. Most importantly, I got up the stairs without the coughing fit and I'm not as tired. There is still a lot of crap in my throat, but it's easier to get out now. (eww! GROSS!!!)

I'd say I'm at 85% now. Can't wait til I'm back to 100% - there are lots of things I want to do. Too many movies to see!

8.31.2010

Gift from my sister - Burberry wallet - I LOVE IT!!!YUM! Chocolate cake!! :)
My mom (forgive her, she had 2 glasses of wine), me, my sister

Happy Birthday to ME!!!

(2006 - 28th Birthday)

Weird weather

Yesterday I came off the plane in Hailey and it was hot, 95 degrees. We drove over an hour to the lake where it was nice and warm. Driving back from the lake, though, we hit a big rainstorm with thunder going through the forest. Back at the house, no rain. The night was a bit chilly and this morning I awoke to rain. Now the sun is starting to peak out.

Sun Valley here I come

Sitting in the Seattle airport waiting for my connecting flight. I woke up late this morning since I went to sleep at 3:30am. I don't know why, but I always have problems sleeping before I fly. I ended up sleeping the entire flight up here.

I swear we don’t always drink when we get together…

On Thursday, my friend, MG, called to see if I wanted to get together that night for dinner or a movie. I already had plans to meet another friend, TS, for happy hour at the BJ’s by my work. She sounded so bummed about my already having plans, so I invited her to join us. She had met TS a few years ago at my Goddaughter’s Baptism, but the three of us have never really hung out. In fact, pretty much all of my friendships are mutually exclusive. The majority of my friends have only heard about others, but they’ve never really hung out together. The only exceptions are my high school friends.

MG and I both arrived before TS and MG asked me when I last hung out with TS, thinking I probably hadn’t seen her in quite a while. The truth was we’d hung out the month before; had spent the afternoon in El Segundo, ate and had a few drinks at Cozymel’s and then watched a movie at the local theatre. We had the same plans scheduled for the Saturday before, but I had to cancel because the pups were sick and we had to clean up the yard, so we were getting together that Sunday. Our plans were still on, but TS had text me on Wednesday asking if I wanted to join her for happy hour.

As I thought about my last outings, in general, I realized they involved two things: drinks and movies.

Thanks to my vip pass, if a movie is playing at my nearby theatre, I’ve seen it. Well, unless it’s The Last Airbender. I just refuse. It’s getting harder to refuse though, as I’m fascinated with Jackson Rathbone and he is, unfortunately, in that movie. :(

Everyone knows I don’t drink often nor as much as I did during my college years, but lately, in the last two months, I’ve had a huge hankering for margaritas. Places I go, things I do, I wonder, can I have a margarita. Do margaritas go well with sushi, I wonder. I sure do hope so.

Before anyone starts to worry, no, I’m not a lush. I’m a social drinker. I don’t like drinking alone, so I don’t. And the most I have is two drinks.

OK, I had four margaritas on Father’s Day at my uncle’s house, but it wasn’t my fault, my cousin kept them coming and I was sitting with my other cousin’s wife, that just so happens to be my age, and my younger not-quite-21-yet cousins. We were talking and laughing and the drinks just fueled it. Plus, he put sugar on the rim of the glasses and I couldn’t stop licking it off. I’ve never had margaritas with sugar rims. They’ve always been salted. And then they brought out the bottle of tequila and he and his mom’s sister’s man took shots and I mocked my cousin that he took the shot too slowly so then I had to show him how it was done.

Four margaritas and a double shot of tequila later and I was feeling no pain. I was also ready for a nap. Yes, it seems drinking puts me to sleep now. Last Sunday, I had one drink at dinner after a double feature and I was falling asleep on the ride home and I did fall asleep as soon as I lay down on the sofa to watch tv and it was only 8pm.

Today, I had to get a Coke at the movies after happy hour lunch at Cozymel’s and I only had 2 margaritas (they put sugar on the rim – yay!!) to make sure I stayed awake. Oddly enough, I didn’t get sleepy on Thursday, though, and I had two drinks that night too. Obviously, my tolerance is not what it used to be. Is that a good or bad thing….

If it makes you feel any better, to show that I don’t always drink when I go out, I didn’t have a single drink at my Goddaughter’s birthday party or at my mom’s birthday dinner. Before you say anything, yes, it is possible to drink at a 5 year old’s birthday party. Just ask my cunada – my cousin & Goddaughter’s mom – she was drunk and so was her husband, heck, they had friends spend the night cuz they were too drunk to drive. Besides, don’t you know we’re Mexican? Any celebration is cause for drinking, even a kids birthday party.

Ooh, I just looked at the time, it’s past my bedtime.

(Finished on Sunday, July 18th @ 11:45pm.)

Not as girly as I used to be...apparently...

A few weekends ago, I was hanging out at my cousin’s house, spending time with the girls. I worked on their computer – downloading anti-virus software and cleaning their computer – played with little Ruby (apparently, just like when my Goddaughter was a baby, she doesn’t like it when I sit down while holding her; need to have her high up in the air), and I let my girls play with my iPod Touch. My older niece spent most of the time playing tic-tac-toe, but my Goddaughter looked through all the photos.

Later in the evening, my cousin was flipping through the photos and came across these three from my senior year of high school:

And this one from November 2008:

She wanted to know why I didn’t do my hair that way. My hair only looks that way when I see my hairstylist. I don’t blow dry or use a curling iron. My cousin said, “Don’t you watch ‘What Not to Wear?’ You only need 5 minutes.” Um, no, I don’t watch that show. Only when I’m over at her house and she’s watching it. (She watches a lot of shows I don’t. I mainly stick to ‘Criminal Minds’ and ‘Roseanne’ re-runs.)

In the high school photos she pointed out that I was wearing make-up and a mini-skirt. She wanted to know why I didn’t dress like that anymore. “What happened???”

What did happen?

I don’t know. I got older. I went to college in Minnesota and it didn’t really matter what we wore; it was all about Birkenstocks and comfort. (Yes, I caved and bought my very own pair of Birkenstocks.) I guess looking at me you wouldn’t think I grew up and live in Los Angeles. I remember when I used to say my high school was more of a fashion show than academic. And back then, I did what I could to resemble that. I didn’t even own a pair of jeans back then. Now, I’m a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl.

In February, I had dinner with friends in Pasadena. One of my friends and I arrived earlier than our other friends, so we looked around in Sephora to kill some time. She was looking for a new perfume and some eye makeup, but suddenly decided to play makeover with my face. She started putting eye shadow on me, then cover up, blush, lip gloss, etc.
Here’s a picture of me when she was done:

She kept saying how great I looked and how much better I looked. (Gee, thanks.) And kept trying to get me to buy makeup and actually wear it. She insisted that she would do my make-up every time we went out from then on. That hasn’t happened, but maybe it’s because when we’ve gone out lately, it’s to the mall or movie, out with her daughter or out to lunch. That night we had dinner with friends and then bar hopping in Pasadena.

All of this has me thinking. Do I look that bad? (Aside from the weight issue.)

Most recently, just last weekend, there were two events I had to dress up for; we had a mixer at a Hollywood club and a black-tie dinner honoring Simon Cowell and Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York. For the club mixer, I wore a short black skirt paired with a lace blouse and beaded see-through shrug. I didn’t wear heels, but nice sandals with a slight platform. No make-up, except for lip gloss and my hair was down. For the dinner, I wore the same shoes with a black lace dress I bought two years ago, but hadn’t worn yet. With both outfits, everyone was like, “wow, you look great!” They appeared to be highly surprised. Even he that has disappointed me said I looked lovely.

I am all about comfort. I don’t wear heels because I can’t walk in them. I do like to dress cute, though, I realize that sometimes my cute outfits are cuter in my head than in reality. But I do dress up when need be and I do have nice clothes. I just don’t get all dressed up every day, day in and day out. I get hot a lot so I don’t wear make-up and my hair is very thick and it takes too long to blow dry, so it’s easier to put up in a bun or clip.

Most importantly, I just don’t feel the need to dress up if I don’t want to. I’m comfortable. Last weekend I couldn’t wait to get out of my “fancy” clothes and into comfortable clothes, especially shoes. Even though I wasn’t wearing heels, it was hell walking in them, so as soon as I could, they were off and my toes felt a whole lot better in my flat sandals and flip flops. :-)

Unnecessary concern

In the last few weeks I’ve gotten more questions about my job and future plans. Everyone else seems more concerned with what I’m going to do than I am. I’m just trying to take one day at a time. The days, weeks and months are just flying by and I’m still trying to settle in.

I may be overqualified for my position. My skills may be underused. But shouldn’t that be my concern? I’m wondering why everyone else seems more concerned about it than I am.

I’m trying to take my time, give things a chance, and see where they go. I really don’t want to rush into another position until I’m comfortable and know where it’s going. Things need to be just right before I make any moves.

The great thing is that my current position gives me time, lots of time. My work stays at work and I have time to see my girls, go out with friends (have I mentioned how full my social calendar is? a free weekend has been rare these last few months.), and most importantly, I can work on all my YV/Variety activities. I’m on four planning committees – two events done, third done in a week – plus at least a couple more events/committees in the fall.

All these activities and events, I couldn’t be happier.

Everyone’s lives and paths are different. I just don’t want anyone using mine as an excuse. Things may be a little more financially difficult, but it hasn’t stopped me from doing things, from going out. I may have to think a second about an activity, but all it means is that I’m doing things that really mean something to me.

I’m about to turn 32 in 3 1/2 months, I’m not a kid anymore. I may feel like one most of the time, but I’m not; that ship has sailed. I’ve taken responsibility for my actions and I do the things that are going to make me happy. In the end, that’s all that matters: doing what makes you happy.

So question yourself, question your choices and life. Not mine. If I’m not questioning it, no need for someone else to do it for me.

eat pray love

I finished reading “eat pray love” by Elizabeth Gilbert last week. I had tweeted that I was finally reading the book and a friend mentioned that she couldn’t get past the first section of the book on Italy because she felt the author was “too whiny.” Truth is, yes, she was extremely whiny, up through half of the second book. OK, she had bouts of whininess throughout the book.

You can’t blame her though. She’d been depressed for two years plus, had an awful divorce and painful break up. She went on this journey just as it had all happened in order to get over it. So the entire time she was in Italy, she ate and wallowed. It wasn’t until she had her spiritual breakthrough in India that she came to terms with everything.

As I read, I thought about my life and how lucky she was that she could take a year off to get her life back on track. Let’s face it, a regular joe-schmo like me can’t do that. I can’t afford to take a year off to travel on a spiritual journey. I have bills to pay and have to work to cover those bills. No one’s going to hand me a book advance to travel and find myself.

I have to find ways to create this peace for myself here, in this hectic world of work, commitments and friends. I’m quite happy to say that my misery is not near the level of her depression and sadness. Not even close. But it is imbued with negativity and whininess. This blog is a clear example of that. I’m resolved to change that. The past year has been hard, but it could’ve been so much worse. I have many things to be grateful for and I just need to fight to change my life.

Bad things are going to happen. That’s life. But when bad things happen, we can’t dwell on them and be overcome by them. All we can do is accept them and move on. We’re the only ones that can do that. We learn from our mistakes, from the bad things. They become a part of us, but don’t define us.

I want to surround myself with positivity. Have fun and enjoy myself. It won’t be easy, especially considering my last post was about the resentment building up inside me. But while my home life may not change right now, I can work to change other parts of my life; the social aspects. I’ve already begun limiting the people I spend time with. By that I mean people that don’t add anything to my life, but only bring me down. And somehow, these past few weeks and months, my social calendar has been a flutter. There’s hardly a weekend I’m actually at home and that’s a good thing.

My life may not be what I thought it would be at this age, or what others think my life should be, but all I can do is take one day at a time. Find happiness and joy and take them day to day.

I leave you with an excerpt from “The Sleeping Beauty Proposal” by Elizabeth Strohmeyer.

“I’m beginning to learn that anything worth having in life begins by taking a risk – love, marriage, childbirth, even loving one’s neighbor as thyself. Risk is the universe’s way of pushing us to become more than what we are. Risk is faith at the edge. Risk is the pulsating essence of life.

Without risk, we are automatons going through our days with no purpose or meaning. We are safer, perhaps, but we are also, ironically, closer to death."

Resentment

Resentment grows and builds upon more resentment. By all accounts last year was horrific and this year has emerged as a renewal; a new beginning. But even in starting over, not everything is wiped cleaned. There are holdovers from one year to the next and, well, a new beginning doesn’t mean they get forgotten or change.

I’ve begun my career over. The clock has rewound almost 10 years. Now if only my expenses would do the same. Ten years ago I had no “real” expenses, keyword real. So making a salary slightly higher than I had 10 years ago, and half of what I was making 2 years ago, but with the same expenses as the last two years, is, simply put, hard.

Making it harder is that no one around me realizes nor comprehends this. I’m covering the house mortgage and all the house bills, and yet my mother complains that I don’t take her shopping anymore. Every time I go to Target, she wants to know what I’m going to buy her. Absolutely nothing. No, you know what I’m buying her? I’m buying her laundry detergent, dryer sheets, dishwashing soap, sponges, bathroom paper, trash bags….you get the point. My once famous trips to Target exist no more. I can’t even remember the last time I bought a DVD.

All my money goes to the house expenses and she gives me shit for not buying her new clothes. When did I last buy clothes for myself? I saw the cutest summer dress at Target, but I forced myself to walk away and igigi.com has the most gorgeous dresses that I can’t buy.

Every time she begins to whine and bitch, I just want to hit her. OK, no, I don’t want to hit her, but I do want to yell at her. She’s killing me. I’m beyond stressed and you know what, I don’t know why I do it.

Why am I putting myself through this for her? She’s my mother and I’m her daughter, so it pretty much comes down to daughterly duty. I just wish she’d actually act like my mother.

Mothers are supposed to love you unconditionally and see the beauty in you…always. They’re supposed to have your back, especially when you’ve spent your entire life trying to be a good daughter.

Every word that comes out of her mouth directed at me is a criticism. Nothing I do is right for her. I’m not right for her. I am not perfect. I am not beautiful, but she’s supposed to see the beauty inside me and tell me there’s a lucky someone out there for me. She’s not supposed to mock me when I run in and beg my sister to tell the guy that I’ve been avoiding and ignoring for months, who’s now at our front door, that I’m not home. She’s supposed to be on my side and know there’s a good reason I don’t want to see him.

This is why I don’t talk to her about my personal life. She laughed at me when I first mentioned Boston boy, back at the beginning when things were good and hopeful. And when P was only sleeping with me, she told me to do and change whatever I needed to in order to lock him down.

I may live at home with my mother, but I have a mortgage and house bills. And one simple truth remains, when I leave this house, there will be no turning back. I will not visit on the weekends and come do my laundry. She will be lucky if she sees me at family parties.