Show and Tell

I normally don't post personal pictures on this blog, but I've succumbed to the likes of many other bloggers. Anyone who reads this will be subjected to *gasp* Christmas family photos *gasp*. Trust me, it's probably more painful for me as will be for you; therefore, please feel free to exit my blog anytime you want to.....even now.


So here's the family looking all bright and cheery on Christmas morning. My 17 year old cousin, Hormone Happy Boy (HHB) is the one sitting in front with a black hoodie, leaning against me. My brother, let's call him Fetish King (FK) is sitting atop the stairs, sporting the nice shiny, shaved, bald head. The 19 year old who acts like she's 15, we'll call her TeenyBopper (TB), is the one blowing her cheeks out like a fish, tilting her head. Don't we all look like one big happy family?




Let me introduce my cousins' dog, Mickey, in the midst of the Christmas morning chaos. A lovely bichon frise, but the laziest dog I've ever met. You can usually find him either laying on the floor with all four legs splayed out or lounging around like some little prince on my aunt's leather couch in the living room. An interesting fact about Mickey.....I discovered first-hand that he has a penchant for urinating in my cousin's bathroom floor, right by the toilet. Yours truly blindly stepped on his little mess on the way to do some urinating herself.




The lovely Caesar's Palace Hotel in Vegas. Excessive and incredibly cheesy.


Driving over the Hoover Dam. From this picture's point of view it doesn't look much. But trust me, it's pretty massive.



And here we reach pinnacle of our trip, The Grand Canyon. Magnificent. Spectacular. I am in awe of God's creativity and ingenious work on this place we call earth. Another trip will be made and next time I plan to hike down this canyon. Anyone care to join me? ;)



Dad found this posted at Hermit's Rest, one of the many points surrounding the GC. Quite befitting, isn't it?



One of the many crimson sandstone towers in Sedona, AZ. Absolutely breathtaking.


HHB and TB's poor attempt to imitate the sandstone structures in the background. I'd say it was an effect from ingesting too much refried beans earlier, at the Mexican Restaurant.



Lastly, we've got his highness, Mickey, perched atop his leather throne. I could only wish for a life like that.

So there you have it folks. A pictorial account of our "After Christmas Family Road Trip". For those who actually parused through this particular entry, my thanks to you. Really. From the bottom of my heart. Really.

I would love to blog some occurrences which took place earlier this evening with FK, HHB, and TB. Blogworthy experiences. However, it's 2AM and I really need to hit the sack. Don't worry, what transpired tonight is too good to pass up, so stay tuned.......

Family Road Trip

So the fam (family), which also encompasses my aunt and her family, decided to trek out to see the Grand Canyon, the day after Christmas. The following is an interesting account of our "After Christmas Family Road Trip".

Day 1

The fam decided to drive halfway and spend the night in Las Vegas. What should have been an easy 4 hour drive through the Mojave Desert out to Vegas, ended up being an almost 8 hour drive. My brother, two younger cousins and I drove separately from our parents, who left about 4 hours earlier than we did. Let's just say the trip out to Vegas wasn't much left to be desired. Between my 19 year old cousin who acts like she is still 15, my hormone happy 17 year old cousin, and my brother, who has a penchant for encouraging the 17 year old's "overly active" hormones, I honestly would have happily jumped in front of a fast moving train had I known I was going to be stuck in traffic moving at a snail's pace, literally all the way out to Vegas, with these three characters, two of whom have this tendency to drive me literally off the wall. By the way, did I also mention that I also had to deal with this nasty throat infection, and a horrible cough and cold throughout the trip?

Day 2

So we spent the night in Las Vegas at the Caesar's Palace Hotel on the strip. Trust me people, I don't think it gets any more cheesier than Caesar's Place. As I mentioned earlier, Vegas was our rest stop before we made the rest of our pilgrimage out to see one of the Seven Wonders of the World. I was just in Vegas this past May with some friends and since I was feeling miserable with my cough and cold, I had no desire to peruse through the strip.

After packing up our things and checking out of our hotel, my uncle herded us for the brunch buffet at the Rio Hotel. Come to think of it, a "brunch buffet" in Vegas is truly an understatement. I'd like to call it gluttony in the worst sense. My uncle, the clever man that he is, somehow timed it where we paid for the brunch price about 15 minutes before the lunch prices took in effect. Don't ask me how much I ate. Come to think about it, it was pretty embarrassing.

Day 3

We arrived at the Grand Canyon the night before and spent the night at the lovely Quality Inn. A nice step down from the Caesar's Palace Hotel, but hey, we're talking the Grand Canyon here. Don't expect the Hilton or the likes of the Waldorf Astoria.

The fam wanted to get an early start - after all, this IS "The Grand Canyon". What I found hilarious was that it's not like we would have lost out on the best seats if we had a later start. The Grand Canyon is only about 18 miles wide and 227 miles long. I must honestly say however, that with the misery I was feeling throughout the trip, leading up to this point was almost worth every minute of it. Almost. Everything that people say about the Grand Canyon is true. The place is absolutely spectacular. I would have liked to ridden an ass down the canyon or even hiked down, but unfortunately we only planned to stay for a few hours. There will definitely be a next time. The fam, of course, went crazy with the photo opps. And I, well, had to pee like a banshee the entire time we were there. Sadly enough, there were no bathrooms anywhere in sight. A National State Park and no freakin' bathrooms in sight! I normally have a bladder of steel, but somehow the OJ from this morning's continental breakfast decided to make it's way down at a quicker pace than usual. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and so guess what yours truly did? Yep. I peed behind some of the brushes in front of the Grand Canyon. Let's just say that nature and I had our "moment" together. In fact, it was almost a spiritual moment fertilizing Mother Earth.

After having our fill of the Canyon, the fam and I headed out to Sedona, AZ. A nice tourist trap of a town nestled amongst dramatic crimson towers of sandstone. These towers are actually a climbers' dream. The fam and I had lunch at a lovely Mexican restaurant and then proceeded with the eight hour drive back to San Diego. I ended up driving back with my dad, brother, and 17 year old cousin.

Eight hours with three males in a Toyota Camry.

EIGHT......

LONG........

HOURS.........

The testosterone levels in the vehicle were high enough that by the time we arrived into San Diego, in order to assure myself of my own femininity, it made me want to run to the local spa for a full spa treatment, gorge on chocolate, and hit the local mall for a nice girly shopping spree.

Isaiah's Prophecy

"For unto us a son is born,
unto us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called Wonderful counselor, Mighy God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David's throne and over
his kingdom, establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever."
Isaiah 9: 6,7

It's Christmas morning and here I sit in my aunt and uncle's living room in San Diego reflecting upon the beauty of why we are celebrating this season and determined not to let the trimmings , presents, and parties replace the true meaning of Christmas. Jesus was born, Hallelujah! And because of His birth we are free from Death. The power in Isaiah's prophesy never ceases to astound me and each time I read it, I see the love, hope, and joy infused in the passage.

Well, the rest of the household is stirring and so I must draw this post to a close. I think family time is deemed to be an important part of this season. ;)

May you all have a wonderful Christmas filled with the joy and peace that only comes from knowing Christ!!

NYC Christmas Dream - Part 1

A few weeks ago a friend of mine from church and I had a conversation about NYC and how we've never gone to the city during the Christmas holidays. As my friend, we'll call her Litgirl, and I marveled about the wonders of the Big Apple, we had this fanciful idea of what it would be like to be out there during the Christmas season. What with the lights, the tree at Rockefeller Plaza, ice-skating in Central Park and the Christmas wonderland in Macy's, how could we not aggrandize what the experience would be like? Therefore we decided to plan a day trip to NYC in order to do the "Christmas thing".

So today, after weeks of waiting and great anticipation, Litgirl and I boarded the train which transport us the 2 hours into NYC. We had a later start in the morning and so we didn't arrive in to the city until almost 1PM. Now, I normally don't do the "touristy" thing when I hang out in the city, however today was an exception because it was the Christmas season after all. Well, our grandiose plans of taking pictures in front of the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Plaza, shopping along Fifth Ave., and ice-skating in Central Park, sort of went south as soon as we arrived into the city. What with this being the last weekend before Christmas Eve, it appeared that the rest of the Tri-State area pretty much had the same idea as Litgirl and I. Upon our arrival into the city, we were met with multitudes of people. It was madness, it was insanity. What the hell were we thinking??? Nonetheless we trudged along, determined to arrive at each of our destination. Even if it was going to kill us. Let me put it this way, as soon as we saw the sea of people (and I literally mean SEA of people) in Rockefeller Plaza trying catch a glimpse of the infamous Christmas tree behind the skating rink, we decided that it wasn't worth trying to push our way amongst the crowd just to get a crappy, lopsided picture of the Rockefeller Christmas tree. Litgirl and I decided to walk over into Lexington Ave. to catch the subway down to Union Square's holiday market. Although there were a lot of people at the market, it wasn't as suffocating as it was in mid-town. After perusing though some of the stands, Litgirl and I picked up some prints of the Brooklyn Bridge to give as Christmas presents to our siblings. I decided not to give my brother the usual Gap/Banana Republic type sweater and actually put some thought into purchasing something that may add to the aesthetic faculties to his office or room. Later on we subwayed it further down into Canal Street where we haggled over goods with the ever-so-cheerful merchants. By the time we finished haggling in Canal Street, Litgirl and I were pretty much spent and so we took the subway back uptown to Penn Station, where we caught our train back into Jersey.

Despite of the insanity of the crowds, I still had a great time. Good company can usually turn a mediocre experience into something unforgettable. Thank God for Litgirl. :D

Chubbs

So my roommate, Iowagirl, rescued a Pitt Bull about a year ago. Iowagirl named this dog Chubbs. Which of course was paradoxical to the state this poor canine was in when Iowagirl found her scavenging through trash in the streets of South Philly.

Chubbs typifies the stereotypical Pitt. But the thing is, she's "special". Special, in the sense that she has "special needs". My other roommate, PAgirl, and I tend to compare Chubbs' behaviors to the foster children we work with. Needy. Attention seeking. Mental health Issues. Developmental delays. Self-harming behaviors, or in Chubb's case it would probably be the opposite. Don't worry, she hasn't bit anyone. Yet. One thing about Chubbs is that she is freakishly protective of our place. Every time the doorbell rings and someone new enters into our lovely abode, the dog goes absolutely ballistic. Although, by the time our visitor crosses the threshold into our home, Chubbs can be seen donning a lovely black muzzle.

Also, if you've ever owned a Pitt Bull, I would assume that the term "pitt-fit" is quite the familiar term to you.

What I find absolutely comical are the things that terrify this "ferocious" canine. Allow me to expound a little bit on the top three items that frighten Chubbs:

1) The kitchen broom - while in use, this quiet, yet harmless piece of stick will have Chubbs' tail between her legs, running for the saftey net of her crate.

2) The vacuum cleaner - so, when the rug is being vacuumed, Chubbs has this tendency to bark a duet along with the vacuum cleaner's melodious sounds.

3) My exercise ball - with great trepidation, Chubbs will slowly walk towards it, push it with her paw, then quickly back up. She'll do this a couple of times until I get tired of watching her push the ball, which then I'll pick up the ball and chase her around the house with it

Tonight, however, I learned of one more thing that may put this poor dog over the edge. Chubbs is completely terrified of paper shopping bags. TERRIFIED. I made this discovery while carrying some Banana Republic shopping bags to my roommate's bedroom to help her pack for her trip home to Northern Ireland. Of course, being the curious canine that she is, Chubbs pranced around me, practically begging to be part of whatever I was going to do. She was annoying me to no end and so naturally, I began to shoo her off with the shopping bag. As soon as I brought the shopping bag down, she bolted out of my way. And it wasn't because I was merely shooing her away from me. With a gleeful laugh, I decided to test out this assumption. I ended up spending the next few minutes waving Banana Republic shopping bags in front of Chubbs' face, while chasing her around the house.

It really doesn't take too much to keep me entertained.

Eros

"To love at all is to vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entangle ments; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in the casket - safe, dark, motionless, airless - it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The only place outside heave where you can be perfectly safe from the dangers of love.....is hell."

C.S. Lewis

And so I quote from C.S. Lewis's "The Four Loves". I read this book years ago and enjoyed it greatly. I mean, how could one NOT enjoy reading Lewis? This book focuses on the four types of human love: storge, philia, eros, and agape - otherwise known as affection, friendship, erotic/romantic, and the love of God. This particular quote has always unsettled me. Why? Because of the four described loves, I am comfortable with three of them: affection, friendship, and God's love. However, I find myself pretty disconcerted with the fourth one. Why? I have my reasons and I would rather not get into the boring, yet almost gory, details. I suppose hurtful experiences with romantic love will do that to an individual though. At least that's what it's done for me. Now, I'm afraid that I've become a cynic with "romantic/erotic" love. It's sad, really. I wish it wasn't this way for me. But it's like how Lewis described it to be, this impenetrable and unbreakable place feels so safe. Perhaps I am destined to remain in this safety box of hell. Or else, maybe, just maybe, I will meet someone who is willing to stay long enough to penetrate through my walls.

Sickly Betty Crocker

Over the last few days I've been fairly sick, thus, neglecting my blog and my few, but faithful readers. I took a sick day yesterday and this morning I went to the doctor's office, where I discovered having a lovely temperature of over a hundred. Consequently, I took another sick day today. Tomorrow morning before heading off to work I plan to go get my blood drawn so my doctor can figure out what's going on with me. The last few weeks have been frustrating because I haven't had much energy to do anything extra such as exercising. It's been almost two weeks since I've gone running and I am afraid that it's going to be torturous once I start up again.

So this past Saturday I had my very own Betty Crocker moment, as my roommate, we'll call her Irishgirl, and I decided to do some Christmas baking. I suppose you can say that this was done in the "spirit" of Christmas giving as the cookies and other baked goods we made are to be given away to friends, co-workers, and family. We literally baked all day.

All.

Day.

I won't bore you all with the details of what was made, however one of the things we made were gingerbread people. Not just gingerbread men, but people. Male and female. Hey, what can I say, I have both male and female shaped cookie cutters for gingerbread people. Yes, it is rather unfortunate that I would actually admit owning these cookie cutters. What's even sadder is that Irishgirl and I spent the rest of Saturday evening decorating these gingerbread people. Our other two roommates (let's call them Iowagirl and PAgirl) entered the kitchen to discover Irishgirl and I bent over our gingerbread people with our makeshift pastry bags, made from zip-loc baggies, filled with icing of a colorful variety. Of course, this resulted in much amusement for Iowagirl and PAgirl for the rest of the evening. The whole set up was so hilarious for them that they decided to capture it all by taking some photographs. Fortunately, most of the pictures were taken by Iowagirl's cell phone camera. Sorry folks, I guess y'all are gonna have to miss out on some lovely photos. :) Needless to say, Irishgirl and I finished decorating our gingerbread people around midnight.

And I wonder why I'm still single.

NPR Nerd

It's late and I had a veeeery long day. Suffice it to say, this post is going to be short. Since my mind is a bowl of mush I probably won't make much sense or sound to eloquent.

Spent most of the day driving to and from Reading, PA, on the PA turnpike, on the 95, etc...you name it, I was there. I am literally sick and tired of driving all over the city and all over the state. Thus is the life of a social worker. On the bright side, however, I was driving the agency car, which boasts a decent stereo system in it. The one in my car was ripped off and I've been too cheap to replace it. Ghetto car. Since the agency car had a stereo system in it, I was able to listen to my favorite station, which I have been deprived from enjoying these past few months: NPR, National Public Radio. I WAS IN NPR HEAVEN ALL DAY TODAY!! Yeah I know, I'm a news geek. I actually enjoy listening to NPR's shows like Radio Times where they discuss the most obscure topics and interview people named Oliver Smoot, who is famously connected to the Harvard Bridge that connects Boston and Cambridge. Smoot's MIT fraternity devised the idea of marking off the bridge in pledge lengths and decided to use Smoot's 5'7 height plus one ear, to measure out the bridge. Smoot's frat brothers literally carried him from one point of the bridge to the other in order to determine how many "Smoots" covered the bridge. And thus instigated a longstanding Boston tradition with that particular Fraternity, marking off the bridge in "Smoot" lengths. These markings have apparently helped millions of area residents and tourists measure their progress along the bridge as they walk or bike to their destination. So one might ask, "How long is the Harvard bridge in Smoots?" Answer: 364.4 Smoots plus 1 ear.

MIT math geeks.

Come to think of it, I am probably the even bigger geek for posting this. I need to get a life.

Time for bed.

Understanding The Limitations of Others

"......I thought I could handle being in a relationship with you. Really. But I can't. Right now we can only be friends." And so was the eminent phrase of the last guy that I thought I was "in love" with. Feeling numb, I slowly hung up the phone (yes friends, he dumped me over the phone) and a green book sitting on my friend's night table caught my eye. It was Henri Nouwen's, "The Inner Voice of Love", his "secret journal" written during the most difficult period of his life. Gee, how befitting. With great consternation I slowly opened this book, which perfunctorily opened to page 13:

Understanding the Limitations of Others

You keep listening to those who seem to reject you.
But they never speak about you. They speak about
Their own limitations. They confess their poverty in
the face of your needs and desires. They simply ask
for your compassion. They do not say that you are
bad, ugly, or despicable. They say only that you are
asking for something they cannot give and that they
need to get some distance from you to survive emo-
tionally. The sadness is that you perceive their neces-
sary withdrawal as a rejection of you instead of as a
call to return home and discover there your true
belovedness.

In opening this book, I did not expect it to speak to me. Little did I know.... In the midst of my shock and grief, God immediately used this as a balm for an unexpected wound, suddenly exposed. Although reading this hurt like hell, it gave me a semblance of understanding at a time when I probably needed it the most. In the midst of my conversation with him, thoughts of "I'm not good enough, I'm bad, ugly, and appalling" swirled through head. Reading this was God's affirmation that it was not me. It was him. There are times, however, that I'd like to beg to differ.

Reading this gave me a semblance of understanding, that knowledge of where he was at and possible reasons for his inability to give back. However, at the same time I just wanted to scream......"WHY THE HELL DID YOU EMOTIONALLY RAPE ME??" But I knew that the bitterness and angst would only reveal my own weakness and limitations.

One year later, after that conversation, I get an email from him........."I met a wonderful woman.......I'm engaged."

I am an Orphan......

....a geographical orphan, that is. I have parents, who are obviously still living, a younger brother, and a whole slew of relatives who almost measure up to the family from that movie, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, although a somewhat less exaggerated version of it. With that said, I am still a geographical orphan. I understand that it sounds a bit odd, but it's true. Reason being is that five years ago, I decided to venture out on my own and move thousands of miles away from the west coast all the way out to the other coast. I left my parents, my brother, and my whole slew of relatives and good friends, individuals who were closest and dear to my heart, to start a new life in the east coast. The adjustment of course was difficult, how could it not be, especially after leaving a strong and supportive network of family and friends? But gradually, over time, the pain rescinded and thus began the restoration of what I thought I had lost. See, God "called me" to move out to the east coast, to minister to some of the poorest of the poor, and in the course of time, He saw fit to place individuals across my path who have become my "family". What's remarkable is that these individuals, whom I have grown to love and care for, are also geographical orphans. We are a hodgepodge of people, from different parts of the country and the world, brought together for similar purposes. We are Geographical Orphans who created community and now call each other family.