Dog-Sitting

About a week ago we dog sat for a friend. And this week we are doing the same for a different friend. I am not really sure how we keep getting ourselves in these positions. Probably because we have dogs, love dogs, and now have a yard. I don't really mind, but I am starting to wonder if maybe we should start a business? You see we aren't the type to just put our dogs in the back yard and check up on them for 5 minutes a day. I just don't feel right about doing that. Though I did come from that home...you know, the one that just left a big ole' bucket of water and a big ole' bucket of dog food whenever we went on a trip. Yup, that was my family.

Well I didn't feel right about it then, and I don't feel right about it now. So of course each time we dog-sit it becomes a task that requires far more than I ever anticipate. We provide 5-star service here at Hotel Starriaza (Stier + Arriaza). And, truthfully, my husband ends up doing most of the work because he is physically at home more than I am. So I was thinking, since we are doing so much extra work maybe we should start up a business and charge a small fee. What do you think?

I would love to believe that it would be a huge success, but places like this already exist (dog hotels). Aaaand, people ask us because we are free, and they don't wanna pay. And like that a dream is crushed. You just witnessed it, mark it down in your journals. Well, at least we now have people who owe us a favor should the need and time ever come.

I have to go, Lucky can't find his doggie bed...

A long way yet to go...

It was hot today, so I wore a spaghetti strapped shirt. Makes sense right? Well let me take you back to a time when I was so scared to wear anything that showcased my femininity. I could hardly get myself to wear anything that might be mildly form-fitting. As you might have guessed this fear stems from abuse I suffered. And thanks be to God that I have worked through many of my fears and wounds. And so here I am a grown woman not afraid to wear a spaghetti strap shirt on a hot summer day until...

I walked into a store to buy some baking soda and when I approached the register there were two men "checking me out", but it wasn't flattering to me at all. This wasn't an innocent "checking out" (which I have noticed before and was not alarmed by). This was different. It felt dirty. I felt vulnerable and suddenly wished I had a sweatshirt on. And I felt like I had done something wrong, like I had provoked these men. Of course I know this is a reaction stemming out of my wounded past, but it was my response nonetheless. What is worse is that the cashier was busy doing something forcing me to linger longer than I wanted at the register, allowing those men to continue to stare, adding to my discomfort.

Friends, I wish I could tell you how I conquered those feelings, left with my head help high, striding with confidence and the power of the strong woman I aim to be. But I didn't. I kept my head down...typical victim. I rushed out of there as quick as I could trying to be strong but knowing I wreaked of anxiety. And I write to you out of anger and pain. Anger at myself for being so weak, for showing how far I have yet to go on my path to healing. Pain because it hurts to be reminded of things better left in the dark and hidden past. But I share this because where there is light darkness cannot abide. I share this because I have found that carrying the pains of these stories is made easier when many carry my story with me.

Shame on men who think it is okay to stare at women as objects! Shame on them who with their eyes send crude messages and evil thoughts. When they reduce me to breast, ass, and c**t, they have no idea they are missing my true beauty, my true light, and my unconquerable spirit. I am more than the sum of my body parts! And praise God for that!

To Keep or Not to Keep That Is the Question

The other day some friends and I were talking about our hoarding practices. I am by nature a pack-rat. I can find some reason to keep anything I own: "I might wear that again someday...you never know, styles come in and out!" "But what if I need that one day? I know the second I give this away I am gonna need it and have to buy a new one, so I am really saving money buy keeping it!" etc. This got me wondering where this came from. Why am I like this?

I am not sure exactly, but I think it is related to my childhood poverty. In the grand scope of things, we weren't truly poor, especially compared to others, but we did pinch and save, and struggle a bit here and there. I have one vivid memory of wanting to get some Fruit Stripe Zebra Gum (remember that?) and my mom telling me she couldn't afford it. I could see how she hated denying me that small gift, and I never wanted her to feel that way again. Somehow I think this story is part of the formation of my inner pack-rat.

But recently I have been wondering if that is what I want to be. One of my friends said she is a purger, to excess sometimes. We giggled over her tales of realizing she gave too many clothes away and had nothing left to wear. Yet at the same time I found myself drawn to her ways.

I have moved quite a bit over the last 5 years, and each time I do I have the burden of moving all my hoarded items. And I haven't enjoyed it. Each time I get rid of stuff, but never quite enough.

And now I wonder if what I am holding onto is worth holding onto. They say when you die you can't take your treasures with you. Maybe I need to spend less time collecting items, and more time collecting experiences. There is a purifying element to purging, a cleansing.

Perhaps a purging of past memories is what is needed, and the first step is to outwardly purge, that I would invite my soul to an inward release and cleansing...

A bit of everything...

I got back on Tuesday from a trip to Guatemala. We originally went for a wedding, and also so Jonathan could visit this beautiful country where I spent many of my childhood summers. We did way more than we ever anticipated.

There was:

a wedding

a funeral

a mob riot/lynching we narrowly avoided

an earthquake

fine dining

home cooked meals

bootleg dvd browsing

volcano climbing

exploring ancient religious ruins

priceless stories

time with family

spooking a dog

and so much more.

It was an amazing trip!

Thanks Mom and Dad.

Is it too early?

The date is September 3, 2009. Too early for Christmas music? I couldn’t help myself. I mean you should be proud of me, I held off all the way through August. But today, facing the long ride in to work, I couldn’t restrain myself. I was not in the mood for morning radio. I just wanted something happy, and soothing, and something that would lift me up and take me to a light place. So in went Vince Guaraldi’s A Charlie Brown Christmas. Isn’t that just the best Christmas album ever! I think it is one of the best albums ever, period. Sooo great. The moment Vince’s fingers dance over the keys I am transported to a place free of stress and full of youthful hope and innocence. I listen to this album all year long. Ask my hubby, who tries to understand my obsession but is perplexed by “Silent Night” in the middle of May. But if you ask me, it is not to early. It’s not possible for it to be too early, not for this album anyway.

Foiled by a Tree

A bit of advice, if you find yourself headed to Disneyland to catch the new fireworks show "Magical" and you get there early enough to sit up near the castle, don't sit to the left of the castle (when facing the castle) because if you do you might be thinking "Man how did we score such a great spot!" only to realize that the entire fireworks part of the show takes place to the left of the castle, and it so happens there is a big ole' tree in exactly the spot where the firework fun takes place. Said tree, beautiful though it may be, blocks nearly every bit firework fun from your longing eyes as though to say, "Hey what am I chopped liver?"

Even though we missed the fireworks, I really just wanted to see Dumbo fly, he is the newest addition to the fireworks fun. He was adorable!!! He flew out while "Baby Mine" played, gently reminding him that he was safe and protected. I might have gotten teary-eyed at that part. "You can do it Dumbo. You don't need the feather. You never did." Well worth the fireworks fiasco.

T-shirt Skirt

So much for posting on a regular basis! I swear I have every intention to do so, I have no idea what happens. I mean I have the post ideas in my head and I even take the pictures for the post but somehow I find myself realizing that it has been weeks since I last posted and I want o kick myself in the pants for being such a slacker. Grrrrr!!!!

My apologies. Now to the real topic of this post. Prior to leaving for Hawaii I made a couple of skirts to take with me on the trip. I made the skirts out of old t-shirts donated by my loving husband :) I got the idea from a Thread Banger tutorial. I decided to make a four-panel skirt rather than a three-panel one as seen in the tutorial.

I don't have many sewing tools and trinkets so to make the panel patterns I cut open a paper bag and used that as my pattern paper. I measured, drew and cut out my pattern and used it to cut out the panel pieces from the old t-shirts. The tutorial is pretty good, so if you want to make one just follow along with Vanina.

Here is the front of the two skirts I made.

And the back.

It's wrinkly because I wear it all the time. So comfy!

First clothing project a SUCCESS!!!