I went to lunch with my kids today in Multnomah Village. We were walking down the street and my son saw a 'lost dog' sign.

He said, 'Hey, somebody lost their dog. His name's Lucky...I guess he wasn't that lucky.'

Funny kid.

You know what doesn't look (or feel) good?

A paper cut on your lip.

I was licking envelopes for my Christmas cards (yuck!) and as I was rushing, one of the envelopes slip across my lip and ...slice...I got a paper cut. It didn't look bad immediately, but the next day - OMG! - It looked horrible. Pure genius on my part. I looked like a leper.

IT IS WHAT IT IS

If I never hear this expression again in my life, it will be way too soon.

I don't know if it's because I didn't notice it before now or if it is suddenly taking the nation by storm, but before 3 months ago, I don't think I could tell you that I had heard this 5 word expression. However, in the last 3 months, I have been inundated by it in my personal life, at work...where ever I happen to be, someone is throwing it at me.

I know that it is an expression that is supposed to be comforting (I think), but it illicits the most violent reaction within me every time I hear it.

Maybe it's a personal problem that I must come to terms with. Maybe it's one of those - "the truth hurts" things, I'm not sure.

Maybe this expression just bites ASS!

I am reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. It's almost eerie how much her situation in the book mirrors my life right now. I only wish I had a year to take off, travel and get my life together...

Turkey France

I had a date last night. I went to meet a guy who my friend Brad calls Turkey France. (He's from Turkey, but went to college in France and lived with family there) We had coffee about a week ago, which was our first meeting. We have been communicating via email and on the phone a few times. He is an engineer and seemingly a nice guy, maybe a little nervous sometimes. He has that engineer personality...he's very detail oriented.

Anyway, we were to meet for dinner last night at La Calaca Comelona at 6:00, my pick. He had suggested Acapulco's Restaurant near Mall 205, but I pulled out the Mexican card and suggested we go to a place that was more authentic. He said, "No problem". I was headed over to the restaurant from the office and was running a few minutes late. I know that is hard to believe. I called him when I was crossing the Ross Island bridge at 6:05. He answered and said it was fine because he was circling the restaurant trying to find parking. He said he had been there for 15 to 20 minutes and that he couldn't find anywhere to park! He sounded frustrated and/or stressed out. La Calaca Comelona is on SE 23rd and Belmont. It should never take more than 2 minutes to find parking there, so I was a little surprised. He asked how long I would be, maybe 10 or 15 minutes? I said it should take me about 5 to 10 minutes. We hung up and said we would see each other there. I was a bit put off by his stressed voice and what he was stressing about, so AFTER I hung up the phone, I said out loud, "Oh yeah, this is going to be a complete waste of time."

I got to the restaurant, found parking, and headed in. I waited. I ordered a drink, a chay caan, a wonderful invention made of gin, lime juice, mint and avocado blended with ice. It's like a wonderful creamy smoothy. I waited. I talked with Orlando, the bartender, whom I met when he was just a kid when I used to work with his mother at Migrant Head Start 15 years ago. I ordered an appetizer. I watched the door. I waited. I called Turkey France. It went to voice mail. I ordered another drink and said fuck it, I'm hungry. I ordered dinner. I ate my dinner which was delicious. I called Turkey France again and left him a message as I left. "I don't know what happened to you. I guess we missed each other. I had a wonderful dinner anyway. Goodbye." I haven't heard a word from him. WTF?!?!?

My guesses are as follows:

1. He heard me say, "Oh yeah, this is going to be a complete waste of time," and decided to take off? (I swear I heard a click BEFORE I said that.)
2. He was irritated I was running late and decided to take off? (In that case - good riddance, I am notoriously tardy.)
3. He got frustrated trying to find parking and left?
4. He's a complete looney toon and likes to mess with people?
5. He got kidnapped and is being held hostage somewhere?
6. ??????????

As I got in my car and headed home, I was listening to Jamie Cullum. The song that was playing was his version of Lover, You Should've Come Over. I'm broken down and hungry for your love, with no way to feed it...

This is when I realize, I clearly am my own worst enemy.

So long Turkey France.

I saw my cousin and her husband recently. They were telling me that they think I look really good right now. I have been exercising daily and have lost some weight. I told them that I have been getting many compliments lately and how ironic it is that right now, I look the best I have since college on the outside, but that on the inside I feel the worse than ever.

"No one sees the inside anyway," responded my cousin's husband helpfully.

Laughter is good medicine.

Pat Robertson is backing Rudy Giuliani?!?

I bet Jesus is turning over in his grave. Oh, that's right, he's resurrected...then he must be looking over at God and rolling his eyes.

If Giuliani can be forgiven his trespasses by the religious right, maybe there's hope for me yet.

So, our company is disbanding it's partnership and will shortly cease to exist.

I am currently in discussions with a couple of different companies before I decide where we are going to land. I think the overhead here in this office was killing us as a whole and we were two teams short and another team that wasn't producing was just too much financial burden for the two primary partners. They didn't want to suck up the costs any longer.

In this market with so many companies going under, I am finding some good options out there for us to set up camp. The good thing is that as far as generating business, we are really busy and that is the most important thing. As long as that continues, I am not worried about where to hang my hat. This whole shake up may actually put us in a better position in the end.

It has been pretty fun around the office though. There is all of this talk going on in the hallways - Where are you guys going? - What is so-and-so doing? Are they moving stuff out of their office? Each team is going to do their own thing, although it's possible that three of us may end up together. It's an exciting drama that continues to unfold each day.

Actually, I am grateful for the distraction.

I am listening to:

"Paralyzer" Finger Eleven
"Best of Me" Chrisette Michele
"Stronger" Kanye West (yes, it's true)

Joaquin came into the kitchen wearing a t-shirt inside out and he said "Mom, what's the name of that place you take all of our old clothes to?" "Goodwill? Why?" I responded. "I need you to take this shirt there. It's a Ducks t-shirt." For some reason, he has decided he is a Beavers fan and has to put the Ducks shirt on inside out to even be able to wear it.

Apparently, he is not following their season, or is immune to the hype.

I watched "Crazy Love" this weekend. It's a documentary about a couple that made the headlines first in the late 50's, again in the 70's and then again in the mid 90's due to their bizarre history. It is the most incredible and unbelievable story. I was stunned. I have to say that fact IS stranger than fiction. If it hadn't really happened, I would NEVER have believed it.

"You shouldn't be with someone who is reckless with your heart."

I was reminded last night by a friend that I had told her this in 2001. She says she still carries this with her. I remembered the discussion, but not the specifics. It's so easy to dispense advice.

Jorge Arriaza

July 13, 1961 - September 26, 2007

Jorge passed away this Wednesday at 11:00am in his home. He had been diagnosed with liver cancer two months ago.

He was a widower who had lost his wife to Hepatitis C five years ago. He was raising his two children Jason (11) and Ann Marie (7). (Ann Marie is Lily's best friend.) He was very involved in school activities with his children and spent all his free time with them. He worked for Bluestone and Hockley providing maintenance services. He was originally from El Salvador. He came to the US when he was 17 yrs. old originally living in New York before settling in Portland, Oregon. He will be greatly missed by all who knew him.

On Friday evening, I went over to a friend's house who has a very aggressive terminal cancer. I went to help move a hospital bed into his room and break down and remove his bed. We took the mattresses and bed frame out of the room and then realized that we had to clean up the junk that had accumulated under his bed.

We got a large plastic bag and started throwing everything in it: wrapping paper, gift bows, pens, papers, napkins, a pair of scrunched up undies, old newspapers, doll clothing and other random toy parts, pillow feathers, dust, a Rubik's cube... That's when it hit me - we were really in his personal space. I can't imagine how vulnerable, invaded and helpless that he must feel to have someone picking up under his bed. There wasn't anything under there that he would have been embarrassed for us to find, but he should be able to have anything under there without having to worry about someone getting into it.

I have been over there almost on a daily basis since I found out about his diagnosis, but this interaction, more than sitting down with the hospice nurse, more than any other affected me in that it gave me some insight into how he must feel about having people come over and get in his business. He is an intensely private person and now he has been invaded by all of these "helpful" people. We are showing up with food, checking on his health, picking up and dropping off his kids, asking and giving opinions about his plans for the kids, getting involved in his finances, shit that should really piss someone off. I'm sure that he realizes that he has no choice in the matter and that he does need the assistance, but that doesn't make it welcome either.

I smoked some double apple tobacco from a hookah today.

Karina bought a hookah to take back with her to Mexico and we had to break it in. I must say it was a very interesting experience. I am not a cigarette smoker, but this was nothing like smoking cigarettes. It smelled good, like incense and was pretty mild. I enjoyed hanging out with the youngsters on the patio smoking the hookah. My dad was also there teasing us mericilessly, as is his custom.

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Michelle who met a boy named Patrick. They became quick friends through an adolescent aphrodisiac known as Outdoor School. And all was good. He was an extremely smart and kind young man with a dry sense of humor. He was able to listen to her ramble on about inconsequential topics and yet he still seemed interested in continuing to spend time with her.

The problem was that this young girl thought that there must be something more out there for her than just Patrick. It's not that she was a mean-spirited, callous, or otherwise inconsiderate person. It just seemed too simple to catch some one's eye without trying. So, instead, she focused her attention on a boy that, while he was her friend, did not reciprocate her feelings toward him. She felt that since many girls considered him the ultimate catch, that she could have no lessor goal.

This is how she came to regard a perfectly good boy, Patrick, as nothing more than her friend.

Of course now and then, when she was caught up in the moment and she forgot what it was that she was supposed to be focusing on, she would enjoy the time she spent with Patrick and even look forward to the next time that she would see him.

After high school, Patrick went off to study at Gonzaga - mathematics of all things. He was the sharpest tool in the shed. This fella's elevator went all the way to the top.

Over time, they stayed in touch, and later, when fate would bring him back to Portland and they would attend PSU together, they began to spend more time together, talking and laughing and sharing their hopes and fears.

Michelle by then was starting to set aside her previous notions about dating as a hierarchical competition. She began to wonder if she hadn't been hasty in ignoring the attentions of her fair suitor.

One night, after she had spent a particularly enjoyable evening out with Patrick, she decided to test her theory. Patrick drove her home, but instead of her regular platonic departure hug, she made a move closer to him to let him know that she was willing to consider something that had previously been off the table.

He hesitated, but then realized that this might be his only shot. He moved in for the kiss and found that he was shaking visibly. She pretended not to notice and leaned in to finally receive the kiss that had been waiting for her for the last four years. And it was pleasant.

He said in a whisper as he shook and held her in his arms, You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that. She smiled and asked him if he wanted to come inside. She had felt his body trembling, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, it was an incredibly powerful feeling to feel so desired. He mumbled something about a class the next day and headed back to his car. As he drove off in the night, she stood outside, feeling as if she had just made an incredible discovery.

Then the most perfectly bizarre thing happened - nothing. She never heard from or saw her dear friend, Patrick again. He never called and he never wrote. Why she didn't communicate with him, who knows? Maybe she was too busy or maybe she was secretly humiliated. Maybe he was too terrified and nervous to call or see her again or maybe he left her house and the next day met the girl of his dreams. Maybe just as she had changed her mind that she had held so steadfastly for the last four years, he had decided that the spoils of victory hadn't been worth the pursuit.

We hope they both lived happily ever after.

So we were at my dad's yesterday for Father's Day and we were explaining the difference between the store bought strawberries (from California) and the local ones that my dad and I went to get at a stand down the road.

We explained that the little ones taste better because they are 'local'. My son, ever the comedian, says, "They're CRAZY?!? Cool, we're eating crazy berries." These are the joys of being bilingual.

For those of you that need further explanation 'loco' in Spanish means 'crazy'.

I am having a hard day today. I am trying to resist my own urges.

You know when you are trying to do something that you know in your head is good for you, but you really don't want to do it? That is what I am trying to do. Break a habit of sorts.

It sucks and I am lonely right now. I hate feeling vulnerable. It bites.

Well, school's officially out and summer is here! We have big plans. The kids are looking forward to a long trip to Mexico, Lily has overnight summer camp, Joaquin has boy scout camp, and they are going to spend much time with their dad.

One goal I have this summer is to think about ways that I can simplify my life. I am tired of run, run, running all of the time. I need to figure out techniques and strategies to slow the pace down. I am thinking of things like yoga and scrutinizing my finances to eliminate the unnecessary expenses so that I don't feel that I am constantly working myself into the ground just to pay the bills.

We went and applied for the kids passports which got me thinking about something else. I really want my kids to fall in love with travel the way that I have and I am thinking of planning annual backpacking trips to different destinations each year with the kids where we can travel and explore and visit new places. Mexico this summer doesn't quite qualify as 'new' but I think we can take an excursion during our trip to a new place that the kids and I haven't seen yet. It is really exciting to watch my kids growing older and to enjoy their company as individuals each with unique thoughts and ideas, not just as my children. I am hoping to foster a mutual love for travel, something that we can share and do together for years to come.

Well, I haven't written for awhile. Hmmm...what's new?

The kids are bigger, they are getting ready to play ball this spring. I feel like I am settling in to this new neighborhood and getting to know others. Yesterday, for the first time, I felt almost at home when I went to the gym at school to get the kids. It was fun to walk in and be able to chat with other parents there. Normally, that is not my forte, but I walked in with a big "I need a cocktail..." which to my surprise elicited laughter from all. I don't know why I am so afraid of criticism from other parents.

Work is good, but crazy. There is major chaos going on in the market now. I am having to rethink all the files that I am working on to figure out what to do with ones that I placed in programs that don't exist any more. I know that everything will settle down and that I will find the way to make files work and get everything done. It is just taking a lot of my focus right now. I am getting ready to be without my Michelle for the first time in 9 years and I am all discombobulated about it. I know that things will be fine in the long run, but I can't imagine not hearing Michelle's voice almost every day.

Personally, I am again on the single road after Joseph and I have broken up. He has taken the no contact approach on the situation which is fine, but a bit disconcerting, especially since he is now encroaching on my professional circle. I am taking the lying low approach this time as opposed to the party train. I have been spending more time enjoying my kids and doing things around the house.

Things are good overall and I hope to keep more on top of things in the blog deptartment. Three months without a post is unacceptable.