The Education of Sam

So Andy posted this on Facebook today
"List 10 books that have stayed with you in some way. Don't take more than a few minutes and don't think too hard. They don't have to be 'right' or 'great' books, just the ones that have touched you. Tag 10+ friends, including me, so I'll see your list."

And even though he didn't tag me (ahem), it made me pause.
As an avid reader from a young age, it interested me to look back and realize what books influenced and flavored my life.

Not in any particular order, and not even promising these are books I would recommend to others. Just ones that stayed with me and influenced my style and taste.

1. Charlotte Bronte, JANE EYRE

     "I am no bird, and no net ensnares me".  Need I say more?

2. Dennis Lehane, A DRINK BEFORE THE WAR

    So bleak and beautiful and I was so upset and affected by it that my ex told me I wasn't allowed to      read anymore of his writing. I ignored him but at my own emotional peril. “I stared down the slim barrel of a gun, looked into eyes rabid with fear and hatred, and saw my reflection. Pulled the trigger to make it go away. I heard the echoes of my gunshots, smelled the cordite, and in the smoke, I still saw my reflection and knew I always would.”

3. Taylor Caldwell, CAPTAIN AND THE KINGS

     The main character's description of his first time at the symphany destroyed me. And inspired me to start my own love affair with classical music.

4. Arturo Perez-Reverte, THE NAUTICAL CHART

    Although I've had a hard and fast love for film noir, this was my first noir novel. Him: gullible, tough and rugged. A man without a ship, without prospects, without luck. Romantic in a scotch, straight way. Punch first, ask questions later. Do anything for a hard, remote, sensual blonde. Even when you know it's wrong, even when you know it can only end in disaster, even when you know someone's got to die, even when you know it might be you. My preference for bombay sapphire gin stems from this.

 

5. Emily Bronte, WUTHERING HEIGHTS

 Dark romanticism, a fever dream that pulls you under and drowns you and when you wake up from it you find yourself dizzy and unstable.

    

6. Stephen King, THE GUNSLINGER

    "First comes smiles, then lies. Last is gunfire". Over the span of eight books, King wrote the perfect epic story, mixing spaghetti westerns with a touch of apocalyptic fever and old world magic.

7. Neil Gaiman, NEVERWHERE

    A grown up fairy tale in the style of the Brothers Grimm. *swoon*

 

8. George Bernard Shaw, MAN VS SUPERMAN

     The reasonable man adapts himself to the world: the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.” Logic! Wit! Word play! 14 year old Sam didn't stand a chance.

     

9. Daphne du Maurier, REBECCA

    More dark romanticism. This segwayed into Shelley and Bronte and Byron. Whenever my love of noir leaves me in a puddle of depression about the world, the beauty in their writing brings me back to life. 

 

10. Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, DON QUIXOTE

     For a girl who grew up reading classics and had a very skewed idea what the world should be like, this book brought me up short and reminds me that I don't want to spend my life fighting windmills. 

Workout Fails

Well hello December. I'm not quite ready for you. Not even a little bit.
And I didn't get better about writing.
But I thought more about writing.
So that's something.

I didn't take more pictures.
But I ate better.
And started crossfit.
Kinda.

There is a crossfit gym a block from my house and I see the crossfiters (crossfitees? crossfitpeoples?) all the time. They are running and sweating and smiling and in such good shape. So naturally I hate them. I'd love to join them. But turns out a crossfit gym is crazy expensive. So  that's out of the question. But I figured I could do some crossfit at home. While researching crossfit I found this Spartan 30 day WOD challenge . And I decided, what the hell.

I told myself this would be difficult. But I wasn't going to try to do it in 30 days. That would be crazy. Crossfit crazy. But I'm not there yet, so I would just follow the work outs in order and take a rest day every 3 days or so or as needed. I started with the first workout.
I nearly died.

The first workout started with 400 lunges. Do you know what 400 lunges feels like? It feels like dying. The first 100 lunges is all about bargaining. "If I just do 25 lunges I'll be ok" "ok I've done 50 lunges, I can do 10 more then quit" "10 more and that'll be 100, I'll stop there, that's good right?". The next 200 lunges you go through anger "this is stupid, no one actually does the 400 lunges, i hate everyone", denial "I can't do it, and really I can get a great ass without doing lunges right?" depression "I'm going to be doing lunges the rest of my life at this right. I might as well eat ice cream and sit on the couch".  The last 100 lunges is acceptance. And fear. Because now you know you can finish the 400 lunges, but you're kind of afraid of what will happen once you stop. You're not even sure you can stop. You're pretty sure once you reach 400 lunges you will just fall over and have to do somersaults to get anywhere. Which is handy cause I can rock a somersault.

But I digress. I survived the first workout. I survived eight of them actually.
Then Fix broke the bad news.

If you actually clicked on the above link you would see that a lot (most) of the WODs (work out of the day ) involve running. Running a mile, running 400 meters...lots of running. Well we have this handy little elliptical in our closet by the sea, so I've incorporated that. And was amazed at how well I've been doing. Knocking out the mile runs, even running 800 meters when it only calls for 400 meters. I was just feeling that good. So good that I was bragging to Fix that running wasn't so bad, look how much I run now!
Fix took a look at the screen on the elliptical and very gently pointed out that the digital track I was running was only 400 meters... not the mile length I thought it was. That all the running I've been doing as part of the WODs was only a fourth of what I was supposed to be doing. To add more shame, instead of being super fast and in great shape, turns out I was running a very very slow one fourth of mile.

If this was a slapstick comedy I'm fairly certain I would have fainted. Instead, I went to his mother's house last weekend for the Thanksgiving holiday, ate my weight in stuffing and considered giving up.

But.
I'm not giving up. Because I'm stubborn. Really, I don't have a better reason than that. I'm pissed off I wasn't doing the work outs right and now I'm determined to go back and do it right. Even if that means I have to do 400 lunges again.

So December,
prepare for more writing.
And more lunges
And more running.

Baby Steps

My birthday was last month.
Fix and friends surprised me with a trip to Disneyland.
Lots of fun was had by all.

With the onset of my birthday I decided to set some goals. Little goals. Easy, manageable goals.
1. Write twice a week
2. Take pictures and post them three times a week.
3. Lose five pounds.
4. Drink a green smoothie four times a week
5. Do something new once a week
6. Keep up with laundry ( because seriously, the laundry monster in our closet by the sea has legs and drops himself all over the apartment )

See? Easy goals. Totally doable.
Well. Let's just say I wasn't very successful. With any of the goals. (especially the laundry monster one, how do we have so many clothes?)
So I told myself that November, November I would get my shit together and start working on these simple, tiny little goals. Really, if I just remind myself and do a little at a time, how hard can it be?

Well, it's the middle of November and I've still yet to be in the habit of any of those things. ( well, I mean I do laundry, I know I put things in the washer, put them in the dryer and then hang them up but somehow there is always more laundry... lurking. I think it's multiplying when i'm not home).

But I'm not giving up. I can do this.
Except every time I sit down to write, I hit a wall.
I've always known I have a hard time writing when I'm happy. It all just feels to much like bragging. Or too fake, too disney. And it's been a really good year. And I've used that awkwardness I feel when writing about how happy I am as an excuse to just not write.

Which means that now do I not only have a year of experiences and thoughts and adventures that is missing (because really, this blog is more my journal than it is any type of platform for anything), but I also have kinda forgotten  how  to write.  I'd have this great thought, something I'd be able to form into a funny story, or a moving moment that I really wanted to record, but when I sat down to type... it would sound forced, contrived and all sorts of... eh.

So. Bare with me as I try to find my flow again. It might be bumpy and awkward for a bit.
It might not get better. But I'm determined to start writing again. Just for me.

Every few years or so I fall out of the habit of writing. The last time this happened I got back into the swing of things by first recording what my workout of the day was (I was doing P90X back then) and then would just write whatever came into my head next. Sometimes it was worth reading, a lot of the time it wasn't, but it helped get me back into the habit. And since losing five pounds is also on that list of goals, recording my workouts will force me to first do a workout in order to write about it. Two birds with one laptop. Err, Two goals with one stone. No. That's not right either. See? I need some practice.

I dropped the ball on Halloween.
Again.
Second year in a row of being broke and overworked.
Kinda kills the creativity.

Halloween has always been my favorite holiday. Most years I've gone all out. Hours of making costumes, for myself and for friends. Half the fun was in making those costumes, power sewing with the girls, picking out the perfect fabric and the satisfaction of when it all comes together. I was lucky, for the last couple of years I've had different groups of friends but all of them willing to dress up and have fun, I had an amazing seamstress who was willing to not only teach me but let us use all her machines.

 

 
I was lucky, and I was spoiled. There's not many things I miss about AZ but Halloween shenanigans is one of them. I think on some level I've been pouting, knowing that I didn't have the resources that I took for granted and not willing to settle for some half arsed store bought unoriginal costume. Apparently I'm a costume snob.
There's worse things.

So tonight is just a normal night. Well, a normal night plus hiding from trick or treaters, watching Dr. Who and pouting. Fix is sick and already in bed and

Oh, and I'm making plans for next year. Because next year there will be no pouting. Next year will be legendary.

Midnights Lately

It's amazing what two nights in a row of fantastic sleep can do for you.

Working midnights has played merry havoc with my sleep schedule the last six months. Sometimes I'd come home at six and fall right asleep, other times I wouldn't be able to sleep until ten am. Too often I would fall asleep at six am only to wake up at nine am and not be able to fall back asleep until three or four pm knowing I my alarm would be going off at five thirty pm. Trying to make plans seemed impossible, since I never knew when I would actually be sleeping. Some weeks have been more foggy and sleep deprived than others.

But despite the on again off again relationship I have with sleep, I love working nights. I've been a night person since I can remember, my mom telling stories about  I would fight her even as kid on bedtime, often staying up until midnight even if she tucked me in and wouldn't let me out of bed. I've tried working morning shifts and that just leads to zomobie sam. In a bad way. Coworkers have told me that when I've worked early morning shifts that I almost never spoke. Or smiled. Or interacted with people. I believe them. Mornings and I do not get along.

I've worked a midnight shift on and off over the last five years. And loved it. The actual work is usually more urgent, more exciting, more challenging. There is less Administrative staff, less bigwigs working during nights, so everything is more relaxed. And I've almost always had great coworkers, people who are hardworkers, good at their jobs and tell great stories at three am. Some of my favorite people have been coworkers who worked the midnight shift. There is something about three am that encourages stories and questions and games that normally aren't shared unless over a few drinks. That kind of closeness, it's intoxicating in its own way.

Working midnights here has an unexpected bonus. Hills. and fog. My job is located in a business district that is surrounded by hills and empty buildings at night. I've taken to walking them, music blasting in my ears and enjoying the stars and the fact that I live somewhere that isn't flat. Lately there has been fog. Sometimes just a touch, just enough to make the distance feel fuzzy, sometimes so much that it feels as if I'm walking in the opening of a noir movie and I feel the urgent need for a trench coat, a really cool hat and dark lipstick.

Sorry. I've been reading James Ellroy. It spills over sometimes.

I'm not sure how much longer I'll work midnights. It would be nice to fall asleep next to Fix on a regular basis. It'd be nice to make coffee dates with the girls and spend an evening watching the latest episode in a living room full of friends. It'd be nice to have a similar schedule as the rest of the world.

For now, my affair with working midnights will continue. And I'll enjoy the california king bed all to myself. Well, all to myself and the two mutts.

My witness is the empty sky....

Balance
I've never been very good at finding and incorporating that in my life, balancing.
I have far too many passions and not nearly enough time and money.

"I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.” - Jack Kerouac

Since moving here the name of the game has been indulge, often and with enthusiasm. We've been soft and easy life. We've indulged ourselves in finding the perfect Indian food, the perfect cheese board, the perfect crepes, the perfect coffee. We've indulged ourselves in Netflicks, absorbing TV shows with a ravenous appetite.  We take lazy walks on the beach with the dogs and work at a desk and sit in coffee shops with friends. Or sit at kava with friends. Or hang out at the tattoo shop with friends.  

It's been nice, letting my body and mind reset and relax. But I'm getting too relaxed. My mind and body feel soft with all this indulgence. My brain and emotions are getting fuzzy and complacent. When I think of the last few months everything is tinged in sunset colors. It's been lovely. But I'm starting to get this itch, to push myself. I want to find the cliffs of this city and jump off them.

I feel accomplished and happy when my body is pushed to its limits. When I am bruised and broken. Getting into shape, being in shape is something I work for because it fits the image I want. I don't want to be a size 0, I want to be that character that survives the apocalypse. I want my body to look and be capable of swimming and climbing and hiking the Inca Trail. My life has been soft and easy these past few months. But I'm ready for adrenaline again. For extremes. I want  my body lean and strong from surfing and hiking and just being active all over. I want to try to do longer rides, to get my body accustomed to being on the bike for hours and miles at a time.

I'm not done with this city by a long shot.
What I'm feeling isn't wanderlust.
I just need a little less Gatsby and a little more Bear Grills.
Yeah. That's what I need

And maybe someday I'll learn to balance the two lifestyles I love and crave. Learn to have both at once. Learn balance.

Sunshine And Saturdays

I work Saturday nights. So I sleep most of Saturday.
I try to ignore the sunshine.
And the fun.
So that I am a pleasant person to be around at work that night.

But sometimes, you need to play.

So last Saturday day was spent in the sunshine, on a old, rarely used road, watching the boys play with their Harley's. Kristin and I opened up her jeep to let the breeze circulate while we watched and cheered from the back and danced to music.  After, there was boba tea and mexican food.

And much later, there was work. And a cranky Sam

Daily Life In Our Closet By The Sea

Daily life

I'm only one state away but everything feels so fresh..
Like someone put the joy back into every day life.
I'm fully aware that many of my daily routines could have (and possibly were) done in Arizona.
And maybe it's just the ocean air. Or just the placebo of being in a different place.
But everything feels so new.


Mornings: normally start at 2pm or 3pm
Breakfast is steel cut oats and fresh fruit or sometime eggs and fresh avocados. I'm finding that I can not get enough fresh fruit or avocados. There is a small store that I walk to that only sells fruit and veggies and keeps me happily munching all day long
Workout: I'm trying to be better about this, living in a beach city means I need a beach body. And I've let sitting at a desk sideline me for the last year. So I'm trying to do P90X2 or Insanity five days a week. I hate it, but I love it.
Depending on how the fridge looks I may go grocery shopping, sometimes clean the house and if it's a slow day, get an hour of tv or internet time. Blake gets home about 5pm or 6pm and he'll make us a green juice smoothie (yep we're those people now) of some kind while we talk about work and friends.


Work: I'm still dispatching, but it's mostly medical now. Back to working graveyards, which kills my social life but is so much better than the 5am shift I was working before. Maybe I'm just so relieved to not be waking up at 3am but I don't feel as burned out working the night shift as I did a year ago. We've got a good crew on the night shift, although I miss my Tempe friends in a bad way.  My job is located in a business area surrounded by hills, so on my hour lunches I normally just pop my headphones in and walk and explore. The moonlight and the surrounding stillness is good for my restless soul.


Evenings: I get home about 5:30am and the dogs get walked first thing. Sometimes it's a job, more often than not it's a walk. Either way I explore this place I now call home, finding new shops and restaurants, dreaming about living in the cute houses and loving all the street art that decorates this place. Sometimes I load up the Monster and we go to the beach and enjoy walking in the sand and water, it's usually pretty empty so we have the beach all to ourselves. Even with the cold water I love, love the beach in the morning.





Weekends: I don't sleep much on the weekends. Too much to do. Usually there will be motorcycles and sunny rides, coffee shops and friends, beach and books and mutts, too much good food, tattoo shops and kava, lots of Fix time, and the occasional movie. By the time the weekend is over I am exhausted, happy, sun burnt and very broke.



God I love it here

La Bella Vita

The honeymoon period continues. Four months in and San Diego and I are still firmly in love. 

Sure we bicker about a few things.
Like parking. Or rather, the lack of it.
Or how expensive rent is. That's a sore point that comes up once a month.
Or...

Actually, I think that's about it. That sums up what I dislike about San Diego.  We used to fight about traffic but now that I work nights again it's not really a problem.

So, four months. Still in love with this vibrant city that is so large and feels so intimate.  We could not have picked a better location, living in North Park we can walk to the coffee shop that all our friends use, the restaurants that are in walking distance are so good we risk becoming obese, the beach is nine minutes away. There's a little market store on the end of my street, so running out of eggs or milk or ice cream is never an issue except for my waistline. We try to take the dogs to the dog beach once a week, where they snuffle in the sand, try to eat the waves and swim until their little doggie bodies collapse and they sleep for two days. I found a bookstore that was an old house previously, so all the sections are portioned off in different bedrooms and nooks and crannies and my little nerd heart reveals in the oddness of the store.  Our closet by the sea is small, but we've found we don't need much space. After living in Arizona it's remarkable to us that we've only turned on the air conditioning twice, that we just let the sea air breeze through our windows and at night we cuddle under blankets and dogs and enjoy the coolness. I started running last week, both in an effort to combat all the fabulous food we're eating and in hopes of tiring out my one and a half year old monster. I've been running in the morning after work, when the city is still sleeping or at least hiding behind it's coffee pot. Sometimes there is fog, which is my favorite time to run. I haven't experienced fog since Hawaii and I love the surreal tint it adds to the city.  And while I still loathe running, loathe it, I've found that the cute, odd little houses that dot the neighborhood make me temporarily forget my huffing and puffing.

That was a ridiculously long run on paragraph. But trying to explain my love for this place turns my brain to mush and sentences just come tumbling out of over each other. It's hard to write about with out sounding like I'm gushing. Suffice to say, I adore it here.

We adore it here.

The Ruger Dog enjoying the beach

 The stairs leading to more secret rooms filled with books at my new favorite bookstore

Your arms around me feel like home

Last Friday marked one year with Fix

One year of adventures, of being a happymess.

"They slipped

Briskly

Into an Intimacy

From which they

Never recovered"

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

 

 

 

 

 

"'Cause I don't know where you're going
But do you have room for one more troubled soul?"

Growing up is a frightening process

I've been going through a bit of a midlife crisis.
But don't worry, this is actually more of a yearly crisis for me.
Generally it doesn't strike until a month before my birthday.
Since this is May, it's a bit premature
But, you know,  I'm dealing with it.

Usually this is brought on by my birthday. The realization that I am getting older and so clearly nowhere near where I thought I would be at this age. The slowly strangling realization that worse, I don't know what I want or where I want to be. Not knowing where I want to be is almost as bad as not knowing how to get there. When I was in my early twenties, my careless lifestyle was romantic, alluring even. There was so much time.  And there were so many of us, lost and not caring to be found, in no rush for babies or careers or structure.

However, living off the grid is only romantic when you are young and beautiful.

And then at around twenty five, I looked around and realized the crowd had gotten a lot thinner.
I had always hung around an older group of friends and they were settling down. The friends from high school were all go getters and were way a head of the curve and no longer emotionally available to someone without a 401k. The people left were the very examples of what I didn't want to be. Single parents still trying to party and leaving their kids with babysitters more often then not. Older friends that refused to leave their parents house.  A lot of drunks, some that could keep a job and some that couldn't. I didn't want to be them. I don't want to be them.

Moving here was the best decision I've made in a long time. There are so many things about this place that make me happy. From the interesting characters that have welcomed me as family, to the simple fact that I see the ocean every day on my drive and from work. That dark expanse of water does amazing things for my soul. But it's not enough to prevent the midlife crisis panic. Because even though I spend every moment outside of work in a constant state of wonder that this is now my life, I still spend 8 hours a day dispatching. It's not that I hate my job, it's not bad and the coworkers are great. In fact, I feel guilty for even thinking about complaining about my job. I know how good I have it. But still the crisis looms.  Because I want... more...   Because I don't know what I want to do with my life but I know for sure that I don't want to spend it in an office. I don't want to spend it getting fat behind a desk, with two weeks of vacation every year. I love my life right now, but when I think of spending the next twenty years, living in one place and working the same type of office job, I break out in hives.  Yet every year I get closer to leaving my twenties and every year I have wild ideas and plans on what I'll do with my life, ideas and plans that gather dust as reality laughs at them.

It's frustrating. Being so happy and so completely incapable of being content. There are moments that I think I've managed to catch both, to hold both happiness and contentment in my hands. Moments when I'm walking home in the fog at 3am, my mind whirling and spinning with the conversations and ideas explored over hot drinks and smokey tables. Moments when the only thing protecting me from a sunburn is the thin layer of salt and sand after hours in the ocean water. Moments of intimacy, moments of passion that lead to moments of almost peace. There is so much good, so much happymess in my life that these moments of panic, this restless panic that sulks in the corner, is baffling.

I can see contentment, it's in the corner of my eye, but when I turn to look at it fully, to welcome it, it slips from view, disappears.

 Conversations around the dinner table.
Well, around the couch. There's no room for a table. We eat at the couch, like heathens.


Fix (noticing that I was ravenously eating the Mexican food he ordered):  Wow, someone is hungry.
Me: Careful. That sounds close to a fat joke. You're on dangerous ground mister.
Fix: Oh right, it's that time again isn't it
Me (glaring): ...Dangerous ground
Fix: What are you going to do about it?
Me (tears well up): I might cry
Fix:.... Shit

A moment later

Me: Wait. Was that a carefully crafted ruse to get me to hand over the rest of my meal...




California living is fun. Especially with him

In Need of Will Power

... And we fell off the wagon.

Well, I fell off the Whole30 wagon. Fix never really climbed on.

He loved the idea of it. We both got really excited for it. I did a ton of research on it.
Thursday I went and bought a bunch healthy and clean food and Friday we started the challenge. I enjoyed breakfast, lunch and dinner a lot more than I thought I would. Fix enjoyed them too, as well two slices of pizza.
He came home from work all sheepish "Sam...Blonde girl... I... I cheated. I'm sorry I'm weak. Pizza is my weakness...and I am weak..". He was forgiven of course, with the provision he stay away from naked, nubile blondes holding pizza. No need to test all the man's weaknesses. 
Saturday came and went, I enjoyed the food and was enjoying knowing that I was eating well, even though I wanted cheese on top of everything.
 Luckily Jocelyn agreed to act as my Whole30 sponsor, you know, to get me through the rough spots. I was feeling pretty good about myself. And then Fix came home.

"Umm. Sam... Pretty little thing... "
Yep. They had pizza at Harley for a second day in a row.

We did just find on Sunday. And Monday. But Tuesday was Fix's 28th birthday. And I'm back to working for the first time in a month and a half and working is hard and we went to Lestat's with his friends to celebrate and there was this apple cheesecake there. Just. Taunting us. The little cheesecake floozy just begged to be eaten, what with the container pulled back to show a little bit of golden crust and an apple topping, all glazed and sugary for a night on the town.

So Tuesday we didn't so much fall off the wagon as much as jumped head first into cheesecake.

Today we had resolutions. Shamefully climbed back on the wagon and kept our heads low. Ate our eggs mixed with spinach and olives and mushrooms. Ate our chicken with carrots and radishes. We even enjoyed the meals. (ps. everything. everything. should be cooked in coconut oil. all things. cooked in coconut oil. from now on).  But lunch was as far as we made it. We had stayed out way too late celebrating and I had hurt my back and spent the day in agony as I frantically tried to pass my EMD test (EMT training for dispatchers) and the idea of grocery shopping and then cooking made me dizzy with anticipated pain. So Fix came home to a mostly comatose Sam on the floor with a pillow under my knees.

He had my favorite sandwich and soup delivered, along with running to the corner store and picking up oreo's. Because I was hurting and that's how he takes care of me.

After, much later, we discussed a new game plan.
Similar to the first but with a little more leniency. I really enjoyed the recipes and all the coconut oil cooked veggies but Fix found it a little bland.  So I'm going to follow the Whole30 for about  95% of the time, while Fix is going to follow the paleo diet.  Maybe in a few weeks we'll have more will power and try it again. Maybe in a few veggie filled weeks we won't need to.

It's hard to be regretful when my belly is full of cookies and soup and I'm curled up on the couch in my closet by the sea. There's been a lot of changes in the last few weeks. My food habits can wait another week.

A Clean Start

There is a million things to write about.

I should write about settling in, slowing down and unwinding in our closet by the sea.
I should write about the new and interesting characters that are wandering into my life.
I should write about goodbyes, and how I'm terrible at them.
I should write about the goals that I'm setting for myself.
Instead, I'm going to write about food.

I'm a foodie. I adore all food.Except cherries. And mayo.
Fix is a foodie too. And I adore that about him.
Finding the right combination of admiration of food and being healthy is hard though. We've tried to compensate by working out harder and that works to a degree. However, between the move, a minor surgery, Fix finishing school and the deathly flu that put me in bed for a week, all pretenses of working out or caring what we eat were dropped. Thrown out the window really.

So now we are moved into our closet by the sea. Things are slowing down, we're easing into a routine and having time to realize that take out can't always be the answer. Even if it's fantastic indian food from just around the corner. Or amazing breakfast food down the block. And while the sushi joint next to us is a healthier option, it's a little rough on our wallets.  We both agreed that we needed to take a breather and detox a bit. The fabulous Jocelyn and Erin had previously done the Whole30 challenge and raved about it. The Whole30 is basically a nutritionally reset for your body. You only eat healthy, clean foods. It's giving up dairy and grains and sugar, even when they are just miniscule ingredients in otherwise good food. Initially I wasn't too keen on the idea. Give up cheese and chocolate? Never! I love them too much. But then I realized that loving them too much was part of the problem. What I like about trying the Whole30, is not only does it kind of detox your system, but it helps get rid of those cravings, the need for a bite of sugar after a meal or the need to cover everything in cheesy goodness. And it's only for 30 days. I can do 30 days. I think.





Since I am amazing at justifying my actions, and giving up sugar (chocolate!!) is going to be hard on me,  I'm making sure to let as many people know as possible that we're trying this. Fix and I are determined to do this for thirty days but we're also weak willed. So hopefully this will hold me accountable. Also, I'm hoping this will get me back in the habit of writing again. Hopefully I'll start off by writing about the food and how I feel and it'll lead to other musings.
 Hopefully

It's a Numbers Game

6 Nights since we moved here

12 Boxes still unpacked

500 Square feet to live in

8 Restaurants that are walking distance from our place

2 Hours spent at a Lestat's Coffee shop with friends

3 Bookshelves bought

7 Total bookshelves now

2 60lb dogs that we are pretending are 40lbs (oops sorry landlord)

15 Times a day one of us exclaims "We live here now!"

0 Places to park

3 Episodes of Dr.Who watched

8 Times exploring the neighborhood while walking the dogs

2 Sushi dates

6 Unfortunate incidents involving me getting lost while driving

Ok it's actually been more like 10 incidents

1 Motorcycle ride 

In Sunny San Diego

New Beginnings

A lot has happened in the past few months.

The most notable being The Move.
Moving to San Diego that is.
Which hasn't technically happened yet.

But I quit my job a few weeks ago.
Fix got a job in San Diego, I've got interviews and last Wednesday, we signed a lease agreement. In San Diego.
In Normal Heights to be more specific. 10-15 minutes from the beach. Cute little shops and deli's and bakeries all around.

It'll be home. Mine and Fix's home.

It's tiny. I've nicknamed it "our closet by the sea". One little room, a small bathroom, a tiny kitchen... Just imagine every variation of the word small and you've got a pretty good description of our home.
I'm delighted.

I'll be attempting to be better about writing. and picture taking.
and working out. and eating better. and more adventures. and more books. always more books.




Here's to new beginnings.