Walking in a Winter Wonderland

You know that they say: "you can take the girl out of California, but you can't take the California out of the girl". It truly applies.

Often as I trudge through the snow here in the Eastern Sierras I am amazed that I live in this unpredictable climate that sometimes has me waking up to sparkly white powder everywhere. But my next thought is always: how did I survive the first ## years of my life without this glamorous gift from mother nature, even though it can thoroughly disrupt our routine.

For example: with blizzard all around us, an official "severe winter storm warning" in affect, we went to bed last night with no snow. When we woke up today, on this New Year's Eve, we were completely burried in fluffy white snow.

Getting back to my California roots: while the kids were out enjoying mother nature's gift, I searched for a shovel to clear the snow from the walkways. No luck with the shovel. I'm sure the neighbor (who did find his shovel) thought I was real intelligent when he saw me raking the snow off of the sidewalks.

Call Me Co-Dependent

First of all: any petty issue I have to fuss about is even more lame & pathetic considering the horrible events this week. And yet I continue to fuss.

I'm home alone. Due to a severe Sierra storm, I am home alone. Some would cherish this rare occurrence. Take advantage by going for a swim in the jetted bath tub, paint some winterized toenails, sip some exotic beverage, or some really un-imaginative person might even catch up on house work.

I'm not into it. I really enjoy my kids. They are amazing. They are entertaining. I don't need to unload them on the nearest relative so I can run off to the Caribbean for even the shortest vacation. In all honesty: they make any and all trips more fun.

I did get some scrapbooking in: how daring and exciting am I? Still not done with the Thanksgiving pictures, though (that's 2004 folks).

I am really excited to have the rest of the family home. I will think about it ALL NIGHT LONG while I LISTEN TO THE WIND. Lucky me.

I can't tear myself away from these stories coming out of Asia as a result of the tsunamis. I keep going back to more pictures, more stories of parents going through what must be the most unbearable, most unimaginable life experience. I was just as obsessed after that horrendous hostage situation in Russia not long ago, when so many children died at a school in a small village. The mourning parents shoving candy and treats into the fresh dirt where their sweet babies were recently buried will forever be burned into my mind. I feel helpless as I imagine trying to cope. How I wish that I had the resources to drop everything to run off to this distant continent to comfort and to help dig out. My sweet babies are visiting their grandparents, just 150 miles away. How selfish I am to want them back home so badly.

The Cold Shoulder?

How long do you let un-returned phone calls go before you start taking it personally? My long-time friend (18 years) is a very busy girl. I understand busy. When we have talked, she says that she was just getting ready to call me. My attempts to contact her are very infrequent, maybe 4 times a year. It's been around 10 months since our last phone visit, but I called her twice in September to wish her a Happy 30th. Those calls went un-answered. Does her contact info go into my 2005 planner?

Today's Lesson

When you spend $25 at the fabulous Jamba Juice, you receive a free smoothie. Secondary lesson: watch out for the parking lot of Jamba Juice.

Not in My World

There are certain sentences that are spoken from others: friends, family, co-workers, sentences that I don't ever expect to hear come out of my mouth. Sentences that sound so far-fetched to ever apply to my life. For example: my friend is visiting a relative that happens to be the leader of one of the western states. Said friend has a four year old with some recent bed-wetting troubles. Friend mentioned that she purchased Pull-Ups because she can't have him "WETTING ALL THE BEDS IN THE GOVERNOR'S MANSION".

Cursed Cookies

Last night (during the Kings' demise) I set out to make Peanut Butter cookies. A re-occurring event during this season of Christmas parties. These cookies were intended for young 5 & unders, so they were thoughtfully decorated with oversized-Shrek-colored M&M's. My husband was taking his time with the oven: broiling hot dogs. I hurried him along, then shoved my pan in the oven, forgetting to switch from broil to BAKE. Of course it went unnoticed for 10 minutes, by then the tops of these tokens of love were black. Into the garbage. The rest of the cookies turned out beautifully. Presentation is important to me. Let's face it: they were bakery quality. As we pulled into the parking spot to deliver said cookies, guess what went flying off of the front seat of my car and all over the floor (where they remain at this hour).

I wish that I was a good public speaker. In my imagination I am funny, well poised, funny, well spoken, and funny. But not in real life. My inner-thesaurus shuts down when I'm speaking to more than 3 people. Tomorrow at our company Christmas luncheon, I have the opportunity to present our wonderful & dedicated bosses with their gifts from the rest of us. It will be held at a beautiful country club with an incredible view of the Sierras. Lunch will be elegant, starting off with a brie-baked-in-pastry-topped-with-caramel-sauce appetizer and continue for two hours, wrapping up with a "Grand Finale of Desserts". Will I be able to stand and be eloquent with my gift presentation? No! I'll fit in to this luncheon as well as a jello-carrot salad.

Off the Shelf or From the Heart?

With just a few days left to prepare Christmas gifts, I can't help but wonder: would the gift-receivers rather have my sentimental, well-thought-out homemade gifts; or would they be happier with something off of the shelf of the local retailer? My homemade gift will not save me money. I will fret and worry 'is it good enough'? I enjoy giving gifts, keeping it a surprise, watching them unwrap it. But it never fails, afterward I will wonder: should I have gotten them a sweater instead?

Where to Start...

Turning 30 has me asking lots of questions. Many of them shallow and unimportant. But as I begin this journey of barfing out my thoughts and questions, what I really want to know is: now that I'm 30, am I still allowed to shop at Old Navy?