Tales from La La Land

It is very unusual that I’m soundly sleeping when my alarm goes off. Usually I wake up around 5:30 a.m. and tell myself to fall back into a deep sleep because I have whole hour. That never happens. I doze in and out, but am usually awake when the alarm goes off.

Not this morning.

Today, I was stirred awake (THANKFULLY) by the alarm. I was in a deep sleep and in the middle of Wedding Nightmare No. 1.

Here’s what I can remember.

Someone had done my hair and my bangs were doused in Aqua Net. I kept trying to smooth them down thinking that I could fix it. But trying to smooth it only made it break. This is the visual I had in the mirror:

Eventually, I got over the hair because I looked at my watch and it was 5:30 p.m. I was supposed to be at the wedding at 6:30. I was not dressed and had no make up on. This will come as a shocker, but I was yelling at the guy who worked at the restaurant (yes, I was getting ready in a restaurant for some unknown reason) to bring me a glass of wine. I was anxious and wanted to calm down.

The wine and the make up person arrived shortly thereafter. All I know is that she proceeded to do my make up with a lot of black eyeliner. This is how it looked in my dream:

No, it was not a “cute” goth look.

Then comes the dress. I put it on and it’s long sleeved. Granted the sleeves are lacy so at first I’m kind of OK with it. But, as I start looking at myself, I realize that I’m covered in lace head to toe. It’s the most un-sexy, un-cute wedding dress ever. It looked pretty much exactly like this:

So, as we are hurrying to the beach because at this point we are late. Of course nothing is going right and I’m getting hot. I decide to stop along the way and rip off the sleeves. I feel like I can make it cuter if it’s sleeveless.

We finally get to the beach, but everyone is swimming with these whales that will carry you out into the ocean. I ride one out and am then just floating in the ocean. The whales start shooting out of the water up into the sky about 500 feet above us. The worry then becomes how to avoid them when the come back down.

I make my way back to shore where there is a seahorse waiting for me. Then I wake up.

Is this going to go on for an entire year? Will there be any dreams where I’m wearing a Vera Wang and had my make up done by Bobbi Brown and my hair done by Jennifer Aniston’s stylist?

If you are related to Laef or to me, then maybe you don’t want to read. Don’t worry, I’m not divulging the details of our sex life, but this blog does pertain to sex.

As you are aware, Laef and I just got back from St. Louis. We stayed in a smoking room at the Econo Lodge in downtown St. Louis. Needless to say, it was hardly a sensual, romantic backdrop. Unless you consider a view of a casino and bird-poop covered alley’s romantic.

Apparently, we did.

Again, I won’t give you the details, but I can tell you that there was something about being away from work, traffic, laundry, shopping, making dinner, waking up at 6:30 a.m. and basically being tired all the time that helped us rekindle our relationship. It felt like the days of early days of dating. You know, where things just happen all the time.

I used to scoff at people who would say “marriage is a lot of work.” Or, “you have to work at it to make it last.” I was a naive little bird that basically thought: “No way. Love conquers all. When you love someone, there’s no work involved. It’s just easy.”

Well, as I’m sure many of you know, that’s true in a sense. Love can conquer all, but if you don’t work towards that love, it will surely shrivel into a small ball of lint in the corner overcome with life’s daily responsibilities. Laef and I have said often that we need to work hard to stay connected. Because, let’s be honest, sometimes we would rather do things like: write a blog, browse wedding sites, watch Top Chef, reorganize the closet, play WoW than say…other things.

But, we make the effort. Granted we sometimes race to the bed to see who gets to be on bottom. Being on bottom is less work. I believe we have even ro-sham-bowed for the bottom. Nothing like keeping the closeness alive!

Anyway, there was no ro-sham-bowing in the dingy Econo Lodge because neither of us wanted to touch the sheets. It was so nice to be void of all responsibility and just get to hang out. It made a big difference. And, there’s evidence to back up this theory.

By Monday we were back home unpacking, making lunches for work, doing laundry, watching TiVO and scheduling alone time. Funny how that works.

I wonder if a trip to Compton would work also.

Which one of you fools is willing to get ordained in order to marry Laef and I for free?

I’m expecting many volunteers. You don’t need to be religious. And, you can wear flip flops.

Get back to me. This could be the highlight of the day.

I’ve been lamenting the fact that I haven’t been as dedicated to running and working out as I was when I lived in Eugene. There are many factors related to this.

1. I could leave my office during the day, go running and come back and work the rest of the day in my running clothes. Definite pro to working in an athletic department.

2. The gym I went to was exactly .5 miles from my work and from my house. This doesn’t leave ample time to talk yourself out of going to the gym. Sitting on the 405, however, gives you A LOT of time to talk yourself out of going to the gym. This is usually how it goes:

5:32 p.m. (On my way to the car): I’m totally going. AND, I’m going to start
with weights like I used to do in Eugene. And, I’m gonna do four miles on the treadmill.

5:47 p.m. (One mile in and 15 minutes later): I’m not going. I’m hungry.

5:48 p.m. (thinking about my wedding dress): Yes, I am totally going. I just won’t do weights.

5:57 p.m. (Two miles in and thinking about summertime at the beach): No, I totally have to do weights. My ass is not what it used to be.

6:03 p.m. I’m starving. I can’t work out when I’m starving. I’m not going.

6:04 p.m. (Thinking about the crap I ate three nights in a row at 3:30 a.m. in St. Louis): I have to go. Fuck. I hate this fucking traffic. I am not doing weights and I’ll do 30 minutes.

6:12 p.m. (Thinking about the couch): I’m too tired. I’m not going.

6:13 p.m. You have to go. And, you know why.

6:15 p.m. I’m not going.

6:20 p.m. (getting close to the exit). Fine. I’ll go. Just to keep in the habit. But, I’m just sitting in the steam room. That will burn at least two calories.

6:30 p.m. (Pulling in to the gym). I fucking hate this. But, I’m here so good for me.

3. There aren’t as many nifty running trails in LA.

Laef has reminded me that in order to be toned and be in shape, you have to run AND eat healthy. He is definitely not the kind of guy to get that look when I’m eating a burrito supreme, but is also not up to listen to me complain about my flabby ass either. He has a point. You can’t hate your abs and then eat fried eggs and bacon at 4 a.m. after 33 beers.

All in all, we do eat healthy. I cook for us and we don’t do fast food.

This week, I am really trying to be extra good though. And, it’s a huge pain in the ass.

Eating healthy requires a lot of planning, a lot of tupperware and a lot of cooking. For example, my lunches now have cottage cheese and strawberries (cutting strawberries) instead of goldfish. Celery and peanut butter (cutting celery, putting peanut butter on them) instead of cookies. A salad with tomatoes and walnuts (chopping, etc.) instead of a lean cuisine. And broccoli with ranch instead of trail mix with m&m’s, cashews and other yummy delights.

I have like nine tupperware containers in my fridge. And, I had to cut everything and make it. Usually, I can just grab a lean cuisine, a 100 calorie bag of oreos, an individual pack of goldfish and an apple. So much easier. But, not as good for you.

I’m 2-for-2 this week packing healthy. I’m sure by Friday, I’ll have a hot pocket and a snickers, but at least I’ll be running for 10 minutes on the treadmill.

I’ve had nothing to blog about for over a week. My muse, Laef, who does and says random things to help inspire me, was gone with the UCLA track team for a week. When he wrapped up the season, I met him in St. Louis for his annual athletic trainer convention.

Yes, there were a lot of khakis and medical conversations, but it’s hardly fair of me to make fun of such a convention when I used to frequent SID conventions. SIDs are nerds in their own right.

I must admit though, I had a blast. Sure, I couldn’t really follow the conversations when they pertained to the lower extremity something or other, but I could definitely follow their ability to drink until 3 a.m.

We finally made it back to LA late Saturday night. I was so looking forward to being fast asleep before dawn in my own bed. Too bad we’re in the middle of a heat wave and it was quite uncomfortable.

I guess I had grown used to the downtown Econo Lodge where Laef and I stayed while in Missouri. You know, the kind of place that claims to have wireless, but you have to be sitting outside on the balcony to get one bar. The kind of place that does not have shampoo in the shower, but does have full length mirror….in the shower. I’m guessing it’s not for shaving, but I could be wrong.

Let me say that this was not Laef trying to budget. This was Laef waiting until about a month before the trip to find a hotel. It’s hard to do when there are 9,000 other athletic trainers who are also descending on St. Louis. We got some great laughs out of the place and made the most of it. We will not be returning for the honeymoon.

I’m hopeful that as we settle back into our routine the blogs will start to flow again.

It my hasty excitement last week, I went to The Knot to sort of browse around.

I punched in the date that we are hoping to have the wedding: July 18, 2009. Then all these disgusting numbers came up.

409: Days to go
186: Things to Do!

What the fuck? My day consists of never-ending to-do lists at work. That 186 did not sound good to me.

But, I pressed on. The only thing I’m trying to do right now is find a place for the reception. That way, I know we have the place and the date. Then I can do nothing for a long time.

Except Laef wishes I would do nothing now.

This morning he got his wish. I called the office of the Los Angeles Beaches and Harbors so that I could move forward with getting a permit to do the wedding on the beach.

Lady: “What pier and what date? I need to check availability.”

Me: “Pier 16, 17 or 18. It’s for July 2009.”

Lady: “Um. You need to call back in November. I don’t have a calendar for next year yet.”

Me: “OK.”

In my head: Fine. Laef wins. It’s too soon to really start doing anything so I’m just going to chill for a while.

Laef has already thrown out a couple gems of quotes, but I will wait to post them until things start to pan out.

I’m engaged!!

Looks like one month of allowancing was worth it.

Mark your calendars. MB ’09.

For those of you that voted yes for In N Out: you are invited.

Does this count as a save the date?

It’s my birthday and I’ll blog about myself if I want to.

It should be noted that it is also Angelina Jolie’s birthday. I’m not doing an Ode to Angie because that bitch has enough things going for her. I am fearful that by the time I have babies she will have taken all the decent baby names in the world.

Speaking of baby names, I don’t know why, but every so often I’ll come across a name that’s a little different and quirky so I’ll pose the name to Laef. Sidenote: This does not mean anything. Nor does it mean the names I say are the ones that are the top of the list. If there were a list.

Me: “What do you think of Tilda for a girl?”
Laef: “Is she going to be born 98 years old?”
Me: “Got it.”

A few days later.

Me: “What do you think about Will for a boy?”
Laef: “No. I knew a kid in school that was mentally retarded and his name was Will.”
Me: “Enough said.”

So, when the time comes, that should be fun.

Anyway, I’m 34 today. Which isn’t really all that exciting. Rob took it upon himself to let me know that, “Cool! You’re 34! The chances of your babies have a deformity just went up by 10 percent!”

Maybe it’ll be Will after all.

Anyway…here are some of my favorite things. I left out pics of my peeps because it would have taken way too long. But, you know who you are.

LAEF!

TACO BELL! YES. A close second to Laef. Especially if it’s past midnight.

OREGON FOOTBALL!

CORONA! Enough Said.

MAKE UP.

CAMPING ’04, ’05, ’06, ’07 (RIP)

GRILLED ARTICHOKES (MINUS THE WIERD OLD GUY WHO PLAYS CIV)

EDWARD NORTON (YUMMY. MINUS THE COURTNEY LOVE PHASE)

SHOES. THE HIGHER THE BETTER.

SUSHI. WITH HOT SAKE.

Angie Sit is one of the most crafty, smart, creative girls I know! For many years we were roommates on Oregon football road trips and I always marveled at how neat and organized her make up bags were. Mine are always messy. Why do I always have loose eye shadow covering all my make up and the bag? Ang never had that problem.

And now she has a blog. This makes me excited because she always knows about fun things or has good ideas for all sorts of things.

Ang is documenting her trip to Italy. She has already posted how to say, “I have a venereal disease” in Italian (no she doesn’t, but that’s funny, right?)

Enjoy!!