Things I Know...Thursday Edition (I Thought it Was Friday ALLLLL DAY)

Maybe, just maybe, I am ready to grow up...this is still up in the air.
Things I know to be true as of this exact moment:
* Sunday Fundays are wildly fun - until the alarm rings on Monday.  You would think I would have learned this one by now.  I have what can only be described as a contusion on my right arm from a fall I can't remember and have successfully managed to detach myself from my actions.  The problem is - I don't want to be detached.  I want to be present in my own life and learn to feel the emotions my interactions and lack there of should induce.  The majority of people don't believe me when I say I can have no emotion towards a situation.  Only the ones who know exactly how callous I can be, can wrap their mind around the fact I can "shut it off".  These tend to be the people who have actually seen me feel - and know the location of my breakdowns (What?  It's really soft bath mat). 
* There is little point in trying to understand the unexplainable.  Sometimes things just happen.  Good and bad, awful and hilarious - we can control very little in this world except our reactions to our encounters. 
* The littlest gestures make the biggest impact.  Being the voice of reason when someone over-googles medical symptoms, erasing an exe's number from a heartsick friend's phone, offering to sit on the couch with an under the weather companion, or my personal fave as of late - bringing a completely unhealthy meal of Taco Bell to a sick friend - these are the real, day to day actions of a meaningful relationship. 
* The holidays really aren't as great of a time as we all pretend they are.  Sure, we put the smiles on and pretend it's "hap, hap, happiest season of all".  In reality, the holidays make me miserable - and I know I'm not alone here.  Of course I am glad to spend time with my family (or in hindsight I will be glad I did so even if I am dreading it now) but to be honest, the holidays remind me of the relationships I don't have - of the people who aren't with us to celebrate - the emptiness my best friend must be feeling celebrating without her mom for the first time.  That sh*t sucks.  The good news is we get to start over.  We are given a chance to put all those silly, negative thoughts behind us and focus on the hope of a clean slate.  Ah, hope - how very grateful for you I am.
* Sometimes it's the most unexpected people who keep us up until ungodly hours, smiling and secretly hoping the ding of the text notification is them. 

Things I know...Wet Wednesday Edition

Today is really blah.  The weather is horrendous - but I don't mind bad weather.  I kind of enjoy the dark, damp excuse for Oregon's winter season.  I just have had zero motivation to do anything except practice my eBay skills.  It's 3:28 and I just poured a glass of wine.  Whoops.  I feel like I could complain about a lot today but I am not going to let myself.  Instead, I will focus on the blessings I have in my life, ever so small.

* The maintenance guys and I are moving on from "hi...hi" conversations in the hallway to "Hey, you!  How was the wedding?".  The joys of working from home.  It's like I have some random form of office mates.  They just work here...as do I, I suppose.  The younger of the two might be developing a crush on me.  I could be totally wrong, he just turns really red when I walk by in my super tight cropped yoga pants.  Like, realllllly red. 

* I am reminding myself I am single because I want to be.  Of course I could be involved with someone (anyone) if I actually tried.  Take the maintenance guy, for instance.  JOKING.  I consciously choose to stay home or keep my attention focused when I do go out.  I have not "put it out there" that I am looking.  Am I looking?  Sigh.

* I think I need to start researching under-eye creams.  Things are beginning to look crepey.  It could be the fact I have had zero water today...but what if I am beginning to look "old"?????  Deep breaths.  I did just get carded for cigarettes yesterday.  Remain calm.

* I really enjoy sappy Youtube videos.  I won't waste your time posting links.  For reals, though...a good cry is worth it's weight in gold.  Perhaps I should research going back birth control along with eye cream.  My hormones are wacky. 

* I talked to a client named Rick Jones today...had to refrain from yelling out "I'm Rick Jones, Bitch!" at him.  I know, I know...it's Rick James...but Jones is just so close!!

Things I know...Tuesday Edition

I can't believe it's over.  THE celebration of the year is over.  OVER.  My best friend's wedding was an insanely good time, with laughter, a few tears, horrendous dancing, and, well...

Let me put it this way.  As I have stated before, I choose to live with no regrets.  There's no point.  None of can go back and change our past actions.  Plus, sometimes, our indiscretions are fun.  All vagueness aside...things I know...post-wedding edition, brought to you by Tuesday.

* Watching someone you care about be extremely happy is extremely rewarding.  I am so glad the couple has each other.  Their comfort brings me comfort.  Of course, if I'm being honest, the "in your face" gushiness associated with weddings also makes me incredibly lonely.  I am so far from that spot...I know I will get there...I know I will...right?!  The acid in my stomach churns as I realize I am farther from settling down than I ever have been before.  I have not been in any kind of relationship in over two years.  I have enjoyed being single - I have learned who I am, as an adult.  The last two years have taught me about self esteem, self hatred and self discovery.  Here in lies the question - NOW WHAT?  As Danny would say I've spent single hood dating like a guy.  Unattached encounters have their place in this world - I'm just not so sure they still have a place in mine.  No man I've associated with as of late is going to ask me on a date.  My laize fair attitude about dating and men in general has left me with a sour taste.  I think if I actually think about it - if I actually allow myself to be honest, all I have done is hurt my own feelings.  The way I allow myself to be perceived in the eyes of the men in my life does not lend itself to marriage.  Causality is fun, right?  It's sexy to be the girl who doesn't need to snuggle, right?  Ugh.  (Not that I will EVER be okay with the term "snuggle)...
I'm trying to figure out if I ever actually believed it's possible to remain unattached...the semi-pro baller in Seattle, the auction co-chair, the groomsman...I think there is a part of me who might have thought they would wind up caring.  I don't know.  To be honest, I don't want to be alone anymore.  I want to have companionship.  Something that might last more than one night.  I just don't want to deal with dating.  Dating is awful.  Dating is torturous.  Dating...sigh.  Dating. 

Things I know...post wedding edition

Despite a promise to write, I haven't. Yeah, yeah. I know.

My best friend got married Saturday. Ugh. Never mind. This post requires more poise than I can give it right now. Let's just say this...her love and companionship is noteworthy. I made no strides in getting anywhere close to what she has post-reception. I had a great time...more to come.

Talent?

Around an outside fire, puffing on ciggies and drinking bourbon, wrapped in scarves and donning winter coats for the first time last night, Alex and I began the topic of talents. Alex can sing - and well, mind you. I wasn't sure what my talent would be...or if I've ever cultivated one. I can knit, I can cook, I can do lots of things...but that's different than being talented. Alex brought up my ability to write. Perhaps the written word is the closest thing to a talent I possess. So here's my pledge to you: I will work on honing my craft. I will once again blog.

Things I Know - Wednesday Edition

June 17th?!
It's been THAT long?!
Much has happened - many new doors opened and many ones shut...all in good time, my friends.

* Being made to feel useful is the best.  Useful often breeds some sort of respect - even power.  Being used has the complete opposite feeling.  The two are very hard to differentiate between.  Or they have been for me lately. 

Never mind - I'm not ready to discuss the above topic yet.  I'm never at a loss for words - this shows you what a mind fu*k the situation has been.

Alright - things I know...today:
* Sometimes a good friend, who knows how much you love Mexican food, Parliament Lights, PBR, sitting on a porch during the first rain of the season, and understands your addiction to the trendy burger joint is more valuable than a gaggle of friends rallying to celebrate you.  A good laugh, being comfortable in your own skin and in the company you are with counts for a lot.  So what if every other girl bailed on my "birthday celebration"?  My yoga-pant-wearing, little dog-toting pal made me feel celebrated - and at ease - a feeling rare around these parts as of late.

* I really do thrive when I take the time I need to decompress.  Working from home is proving to be a great situation for doing so.  I am not rushing out the door, into my car, into the office, into a meeting, out the door, to a happy hour, etc.  I am taking the time to plan things and accomplish them with the tact and level of priority I deem appropriate.  My office mate (Reggie the fish) also doesn't gossip much and rarely annoys me with talk of nonsense.

* I am feeling a bit aggressive today.  Yesterday was the same story.  I'm not naive enough to play dumb to the anger - I know exactly where it stems from.  My feelings are hurt and my ego is bruised - although I am not sure I can reconcile the latter.  I have no regrets in my 29 years...only perhaps I shouldn't have started smoking all those years ago.  Other than that...

* Jealousy is consuming.  I know to run far from the gross feeling when it enters my mind.  But let's be honest - jealousy happens.  So take your freakin' huge ass diamond ring and kiss off (aggressive - I warned you).

* Random thought - related to two separate nights in the last three months - JELLO SHOTS ARE NEVER A GOOD IDEA.  Nothing great ever materializes because of their existence.  Ever.

Things I Know...Friday Edition

 I haven't had much to say lately.  Things are pretty monotonous, boring, bland.

* I am having a dinner party tomorrow.  My first real, grown up dinner party.  The occasion is "Midsgiving", celebrating the halfway point to Thanksgiving.  A random assortment of characters will be there - people I am thankful for and whose company I value and enjoy.  Funny hats are a requirement.  Seriously.  My cooking skills will most likely fail but as long as there is wine...right???  We will be having a cheese display, salad, pasta, and Bre is bringing dessert.  Everyone is bringing their own chair and drink of choice.  I am hoping for a rowdy round of boardgames after dinner and lots of laughs.  Linens and tables were drug from work to my tiny appartment, hopefully I can find some extra white dishes and only 6 people can drink wine.  Unless someone uses the santa mug...I just want to have fun.  I am very blessed - and mostly by the strong, funny, fierce people in my life.  Celebrating them is the most fun thing I could think of. 

Things I Know...Friday Edition

* Holiday weekends are the stuff dreams are made of.  Or at least the anticipation leading up to one is.

* Everyone around me is getting married.  Really.  Granted, my profession fuels this fact.

* My friend called me her "Man Eater Hero" this week.  Proud?  Of course.  Second guessing my actions as of late?  Of course. 

* I am avoiding the DEQ.  I don't know why.   It sounds awful. 

Things I Know I DONT Want...

What THAT was ugly. 
* I am referring to my experience (2 dates, to be exact) with a guy.  I will spare you all the nitty gritty and cut to the chase.  There are some great things about this guy...andddddddd some not so great things.

* He's Catholic!
* His parents are still married...but he's a divorcee.
* He has his Master's degree...but he just got his teaching certificate 2 weeks ago.
* He has a job...but it's as a security guard at a local high school (!!).
* He is taller than me...but by less than a fraction of an inch.
* He has a car...but it's older than me.  For reals.
* He has a house...oh wait.  It's his parents'. 
* He brought wine...but it was Ravenswood and House Wine.
* He is a baseball fan...but he roots for the Yanks.
* He brought me flowers...but they were in a recycled salsa jar.
* He has tattoos...but one of them may or may not be tribal. 
* ...He had really ugly shoes.

And wait for it...wait for it...wait for it...
* He brought cheese (my favorite thing!)...but...IT WAS USED CHEESE. 

What is "used cheese" you may ask.  Well, simply put, he brought cheese from his refrigerator.  Wrapped in a Ziploc bag and I believe there was a rubber band involved?  Here's my question.  When he was at Safeway buying cheap wine and cheap flowers, why didn't he just grab new cheese?  Like, if this was his favorite kind and he wanted to share, why wouldn't he get a new block?  I just don't understand leaving one's house and grabbing open cheese from your refrigerator to take somewhere.  I can't wrap my mind around that.  Ohhhhh guess what?  He took it with him when he left.  

Needless to say, there will not be a third date.  Oves. 

Today is Wednesday...

Today is Wednesday...what this means:
* I have to attend the weekly banquet event order (BEO) meeting.  In theory, this meeting is awful.  I don't really mind it, however.  I enjoy my F & B team.  We are funny people - we have fun.   

* I have come into the best group of ladies.  Rarely do I trust women - especially like this.  When you know, you know, though, and I know.  We are all extremely opinionated, passionate and different on so many levels.  Most importantly, we are hilarious.  In the last 7 days we have gotten into a heated discussion on religion, reactivated and deactivated 3 separate facebook accounts, gotten tattoos (!!) at 1:15 in the morning at a parlor called Sea Tramp, corrupted an innocent coworker, had a 90's themed dance party, shut down a bar in tears, eaten at least 10 hamburgers, insulted the eye wear of a local skeez, designated a bar as our own...and I am talking all in one week.  There's more debauchery in the three of us than in most college frat houses.  Just sayin'. 

* I have a date tonight.  A.  Date.  I have a DATEEEEEE.  Obviously, I am freaking out.  I don't have the foggiest clue what I am doing.  I can woo the opposite sex, no problem, but attending something as traditional as a "date" has me thrown.  Cocktails after work.  Around 6.  I don't want to screw this one up.  I mean, on paper this one has real potential.  Fingers crossed. 

Things I know - Tuesday Edition

* Laughter heals all.  I mean it.  How can you be grumpy, sad, self-loathing, or lonely when you are sitting at a table of new friends - who for some reason trust more than some old - laughing so hard your face hurts? 

* Family is not made up of blood and flesh.  Farrrrr from it.  Those who carry the same DNA as me are not my family.  My family are those who have wiped my tears, laughed at my jokes, held my hand when I was scared and done so willingly.  I have no qualms about returning the favor, either. I love my family (parents and those of you who know you've earned the title) more fiercely than I hate my past. 

* I am overly needy at times.  I need to be reassured I am loved, important, good at what I do, and reassured often.  I am an extremely independent person - and I love myself.  I am not insecure - that's not the problem.  I just "need".  Does that make sense? 

* I am happy today.  I have nothing to complain about.  

Vices...

* My darling friend Kristi recently wrote on her blog about some vices she was giving up.  Her deprivation, while inspiring, just got me thinking how much I actually value my vices.  I cherish them, to be exact.  I know some might consider this "idolatry" but it's not like that.  I would consider myself a minimalist to the nth degree - so if something - like a vice - is even a part of my life, it is because I intentionally put it there.  For example:

* Parliament Lights:  This one is ironic because the little white cancer sticks are actually one of the things Kristi is letting go of.  More power to ya, Lovey, but I am going to continue to suck on the indented filter, making a tobacco-colored star on the inside.  I know it's a gross and disgusting habit which ultimately could kill me.  However, something about the curls of smoke snaking their way around me while filling my lungs with the overwhelmingly pleasurable toxins makes me feel at ease.  I don't really "smoke".  I mean, not during daytime hours.  Just alone, in the confounds of my own solitude, after a glass or two of vino do I sneak outside in my bunny slippers to puff.  Then and any other time I consume alcohol.  Or if I happen to be on a road trip who's soul purpose is to make my palms sweat with rendezvous nerves.  You get the picture.  I don't NEED to smoke.  I choose to. 

* Gummy Bears:  I am consciously trying to avoid high fructose corn sugar.  After reading Food Rules (a quick 45 min one-sitting read - I highly recommend) I cannot justify choosing to put crap like hfcs in my body.  However, I choose to ignore said rule when it comes to the little animal shaped squishy masses.  They are delicious.  No matter what.  I like the clear ones the best, then the red ones.  I eat the yellows and oranges first - they are my least favorite.  I prefer them stale, like one day after opening the package.  They leave an oily residue on your fingers after a day or two in the oxygen.  I like that. 

Back to Life, Back to Reality...

Yesterday was my first day back in the office.  Shell-shock to say the least.  My vacation was amazing, life changing, eye opening, and pretty much perfect.  I went to Italy.  I returned.  I drove to Seattle for a rendezvous.  I returned.  "What??" you ask.  "You drove to Seattle??"...

* Flirtatious banter is my favorite.  There is something so exciting about the chase.  I am a huge sucker for butterflies and love nothing more than feeling the unmistakable twinge of a good old-fashioned crush.  Obviously, this is referring to "The Boy".  We decided to take our banter on the road and meet halfway for an evening.  So, I booked a room, shaved my legs and drove 2.5 hours.  Yes, this routine-driven planner dropped everything to be spontaneous - and I LOVED every minute of it.

Now I just need to NOT drunkenly text him stupid shiz.  I need to be more alluring.  More elusive.  More...more...more UNAVAILABLE.  I might be notorious for "dating like a guy" but I get to some point where my estrogen kicks in.  I am brazenly unemotional, unattached...until I'm not.  It's not good.  I need to lock myself in a padded room and unplug all things related to communication.  Every single one of us has made this mistake - and it's cringe worthy every single time.  The flirtatious banter I love so much takes on a wine-soaked pathetic tone and no one likes a needy sot.  I'm not saying this point has been reached yet in this particular situation - because I believe it hasn't - I am just sayin' it has happened.  Right?  Eff.  Officially beginning Operation Emotionally Back Peddle.    

Day 4...

Thursday, April 7, 2011
Venice, Italy - Firenze. (I love the fact Firenze is in autocorrect)

Notorious for being early, I have realized I "inherited" this trait from my mother.  We had to catch a 10:40 am train... So we rose early and munched on our usual breakfast, coffee quickly moving through my veins.  We had to walk to the vapperetto, the water taxi which would take us to the train station.  Wheeling our bags through the tiny alleys, avoiding the dog sh*t and vendors unveiing their carts for the day, we pulled and pushed ourselves and our belongings to platform 52, a floating bus stop surprisingly lovely foe public transport.  The boat arrived, beautiful uniformed man ushering us on, his broken English urging mom and I towards the back with our bulky suitcases.  I quickly obliged, excited to feel the spray of the ocean and the final breeze of Venice on my face.  Mom was not as happy bout the open air.  I was, in usual fashion, trying to control the scene.  I imagine my schtick gets old...but I cannot handle the snail's pace.  It infuriates me.  We successfully deboarded - and the "hurry up and wait" game began.  No benches, no cafe, the train station in Venice is a far cry from pdx's beautiful Union Station.  We stood, crane- necked, for a solid 45 min, hoping the departure screen would soon update train 9504 to Roma.  hurry.  Up.  And.  Wait.  The ride in first class was better than I expected - easy and clean, despite mom's clunky bag hanging out in the aisle.  In just over two hours we arrived in Florence!  After repeating the name of our hotel 15 times to the cabby (Il Guelfo Bianco) we were on our way!  First thought...who taught these people to drive?!  Answer...no one.  They just wing it, obviously.  We checked into our room (free wifi!) and after unpacking, we decided to wander.  I am pretty sure it was love at first sight.  There are many special nuances to Florence - what struck me first was the crazy juxtaposition between old and new.  A young, modern girl, for instance, talking on Her iPhone 4, smoking, chaining her vespa to a 500 year cathedral post - crazy interwoven history and modern day.  Our hotel is very centrally located, just about a 5 minute walk down to the infamous Duomo.  The centuries old cathedral with Brunnelleschi's famous dome has always captivated me, art history texts piquing my interest years ago.  In person, Ste. Marias is massive, looming, eerie, and beautiful.  The massive church is the third largest in the world and the facade is extremely intricate.  Inside, however, is much more simplistic, with a bone-chilling breeze rambling through the nave.  Hundreds of tourists crane their necks to see the frescoed dome's interior, silently shuffling through the landmark.  We spent some time admiring the cathedral before heading back Into the sunshine.  While peak tourist season has yet to decend upon Italia, there are hoards of school children in massive packs.  Think groups of 50+ high schoolers, hormones raging, pawing at each other while traveling through historic monuments.  Annoying.  Mom and I wondered and wandered, exploring the numerous piazzas, crossing the famous Ponte Vecchio, winding up and down the very Parisian feeling streets, lined with designer labels.  I drug poor mom behind me, until she couldn't move anymore, demanding we stop and sit on a stoop for a good while.  While I appreciate my mother's aging pains, feet problems, knee problems, neck problems...I need to practice more patience.  I know I do.
We ate at --- at the recommendation of the hotel.  Directly upon sitting down at the table, a small two top on the front patio, our waiter asked what hotel we were staying at - an instant indication the joint is not recommended on culinary merit but rather on the kickbacks given to referring concierges.  Sigh.  We split a caprese salad (fine, typical, nothing special) and I had spaghetti-like noodles with shaved black truffles, i found nothing wrong with the dish - and looking back on it it really was better than I gave it credit for at the time.  Mom had risotto with asparagus - it tasted like gummy rice mixed with campbell's cream of asparagus soup.  A greasy, mustachioed middle aged man continually tried to make conversation with us (me).  He was the proprietor of Dante's Leather Factory, a crusty, plasticy Wilson's Leather type store.  Visiting America often, Dante's has trunk shows in cities like Boston and Vegas.  He would like portland to be next on the list.  Gross.  An after dinner gelato and we headed back towards the hotel.  

Day 3...

Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Venice, Italy 

Day three...we started off with our usual continental breakfast at the hotel, the breakfast room being directly outside our room. Soft, buttery croissants tasted heavenly dipped in mud-like coffee.  Deli slices of white cheese atop prepackaged crackers take on a gourmet feel when eaten in Europe.  
Planning on spending the morning trekking to the infamous Rialto Bridge.  Pleasantly surprising, the asshole of a front desk manager had his helpful hospitality pants on and was more than willing to offer up the 
"local's route", cutting our walk in two.  We climbed the famous bridge in search of the luscious food market below.  Very old and historic, Venice's fish and veggie market has been located at the base of the bridge for centuries.  I was unimpressed.  Citrus obviously boated in from Mexico sat perched atop cardboard boxes, Chicita bananas still bore their blue stickers proudly.  Yawn.  The pescitaria was housed in a very nice pavilion and stunk to high heaven.  Not my cup of tea to say the least.  Just beyond the fishy market were rows and rows of vendor carts, much like what we see at Saturday Market.  Full of mostly junk, we did find one little tiny storefront that caught our eye.  A rotund man with a full beard was manning the shop, paper machete masks hanging from every available surface, ceiling included. Crowded to say the least, mom wanted to keep looking.  Row after row of porcelain masks decorated with glitter and artificially died plumage was all we found.  I suggested we head back to the little shop whose artistic quality was unlike any of the other mass-produced Chinese crap we had been seeing.  Ha!  Not so fast.  We wandered up and down and back up the rows of trinkets and chotskes, unable to find the tiny hovel.  Finally, after much frustration, we turned the corner to find it at last!  The shopkeep was actually the artist - and a true artist he was!  These masks are insanely beautiful.  I find the whole mask thing creepy and hard to appreciate but these really are unique.  Of course, I can never come to any sort of disision so I walked away empty handed.  Mom, of course, ended up with a beautiful piece of art for her dressing room.  Sigh.
Back to the hotel around 1pm, we decided to take asshole desk man's suggestion on taking a free private charter to murano, famous island known for it's glass.  A very italian looking gentleman in designer jeans, motorcycle jacket and aviator sunglasses picked us up at our hotel and briskly walked us to the dock where our boat was to meet us.  He was a smooth one alright, talking up everything Venitian.  Mom made the mistake of saying she preferred Florence.  Ha!  I guess if someone were to say the same about seattle I would gaffaw as well...
The boat finally came, we boarded and took off for Murano.  A beautiful sunny day, I stood in the back, mom of course tucked away in the cabin.  We were escorted into Marco Polo factory, a compound which has been glass blowing for centuries.  They were making guilded leaves for chandeliers at that moment.  We stood and watched in awe, learning the kiln itself was 300 years old.  The artisans were two brothers, both older in dingy tees and stretched out jeans.  They worked silently in perfect harmony.  We were then ushered upstairs, to "the gallery", where two stories and ,multiple rooms were teeming with beautiful, light reflecting glass.  Somethings were absolutely breathtaking...the chandeliers, some of the stemware.  Some stuff was downright awful...think gaudy mobster crap.  I really was hoping to pick up a set of champagne flutes, or so,ething really pretty and functional which would serve as an amazing memory.  Yeah right.  The set of 6 flutes I had my eye on were roughly $600 Euro...a far cry from the $1.75 each I paid at ikea for my current set.  Of course Mary ended up with a set of colorful wine glasses and a beautiful pitcher.  Please note my mother has one-upped me many tmes this trip.  Meaning I find something I want, can't afford, and she buys it for herself.  Ce la vie. While mom was wrapping up her transaction, I realized we really had no way off the island unless we had purchased something.  We had no way of contacting any sort of transportation, and the charter we took over was completely controlled by the people selling us stuff and was not offered up until we bought something.  Creepy, hostage style.  We waited another 30 min for the boat, which ferried us back across the choppy yet gorgeous lagoon towards Venice, passing Ste. Michelle, the cemetery island on our way.  
After having the front desk make us a reservation at at nice restaurant for dinner, we had to cancel.  Mom's feet are not holding up well this trip and with no cars on the island, walking is the only way around.  Not up to the jaunt, we opted for something close to the hotel.  pizzeria Sacrista was just a few steps from our hotel and was written up in mom's Rick Steves guide.  Dimly lit, fake grapes in the windows, the place had a sort of quirky charm - like Ernestos meets the Old World.  Or so it seemed.  We were quickly ushered to a table and given sweet glasses of sangria (? In Italy?) rimmed with sugar.  The menu was Bible-thick, full of pre picked menus aimed at tourists.  Being Right on the water, Venice is famed for it's seafood.  Mom ordered the scallop starter, scallops served in the half shell, some sort of bacon sauce.  I started with a green salad.  Wilted greens with lemon juice and shredded carrots does not a great salad make.  Mom had to use a knife to cut scallops...just sayin'.  My gnocchi with onions and mushrooms was anything but homemade.  Each gnocchi looked exactly like the one before - machine made and swimming in a floury sauce obviously frozen at some point.  Gross.  No other adjective would properly describe mr. Rick Steves' recommendation.  I asked for my entree to go, hoping to avoid the poor server the embarrassment.  I tried to "accidentally" leave my doggie bag on the table, trying to not carry around frozen Olive Garden food around with me...no such luck.  They chased after me, worried I was forgetting their prized cuisine.  Riiiiight.  I promptly dumped it in the nearest receptacle.  Back in Piazza San Marco, I asked my mother if she was down to go out...hardy har har.  Obviously she wasn't and apparently she was appalled at the idea of me venturing around a small, isolated island alone.  "you're not going to have anymore wine, are you?"...apparently the two glasses I had at Chez Dogshit were too much as it was.  Instead of arguing, I just said fine and retreated back to the hotel to spend yet another evening in bed early with my middle aged mother.  I was not happy.  Not one bit.  I tried explaining I am almost 30 and very independent.  I tried rationalizing there is no way for me to gauge a culture hidden in a tiny chamber locked away with my mother.  big Sigh. I cracked my book, faced the wall, sheets up to my chin and cried.  I never imagined I would feel caged in Europa.  Yet here I was, texting Hanna and Stef how I wanted to be home.  I'm grateful for Hanna, for she knows my mother - and has a difficult one of her own.  She has always been able to rise and face hers, however, where I often cower out of ease and fear of the fight.  3 benedrill later and sleep finally came over me, dreams of the boy I need to forget sweeping over my european vacation.  

Day two...

Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Venice

Very shortly after writing day one, I decided to finish getting ready for the day, even if it was just a little after5:30am.  I was trying to be as quiet as possible, as mom was still sleeping.  I tiptoed towards the wall, inserting the prongs of my flat iron into the wall and BAM!  I blew the fuse and a faint smell of burnt something rose into the air.  Well, that got mary's attention, 
alright.  I tried unplugging the offender, tried toggling every switch - nothing.  I have to admit I felt awful, as no one was at the front desk and no one certainly no one was answering the calls I kept flooding into the PBX.  We had no choice but to sit there in the dark, staring at the window, waiting for daylight to begin creeping in.  Mom had yet to shower, extremely worried about the lack of ability to apply her face.  I, on the other hand, was far more concerned about the frizzy mass atop my head.  Finally, we heard movement - the breakfast attendant had arrived to setup for the daily display of fruit cocktail and croissants.  I flew the door open and begged the poor guy for help.  He chuckled under his breath as he very easily and quickly reset the box.  Sigh of releif.  There was once again yellow-tinted light in room 107.  
After breakfast we headed towards the Peggy Guggenheim Collection - an amazing collection of modern art displayed in the heiress' spralling, white palazzo.  Pollock, Calder, Ernst, Klee...Miss Peggy surely has one of the most impressive collections in the world.  I was very impressed, albight slightly annoyed with the hoards of children's field trips.  The Nasher's of Texas fame have restored the palazzo's wondrous gardens, filling the space with sculptures and creating a beautiful space for Peggy's eturnment.  
After being thorouly overwhelmed with modern art, mom and I cruised back along the rows of designer shops, browsing every floor of every shop, drooling over shoes and purses in the thousands of euros category.  A quick panini - mozzarella, lettuce and tomato wrapped in warm, dense flatbread, and we were off to stroll more of  Venice's winding alleys.  
St. Maria de Rosaria is a massive, looming marble cathedral with domes and columns - an absolutely beautiful stereotypical Italian looking display.  Facing out towards the lagoon, we thought perching ourselves on her glorious steps as we ogled our guidebook was a perfect plan.  We were able to soak in the sun reflecting off the murky water, the people strolling by, all while gleaning info about the church we were sitting atop.  Whammo!  I felt something hit the right side of head with a pretty good force.  I knew immediately what had just happened.  I turned to my mom, seated to my right and stated, "I think a bird just pooped on my head".  She started laughing.  "No, really.  Please.  Look".  Sure enough, a pigeon, in all of his Venice infamy, had dropped his fecal matter directly in my hair.  Of course.  Mom, dabbing and wiping, was completely disgusted and I was a wreck.  Crying out of disgust, embarrassment...who knows.  I pulled it together, we went inside and discovered it really was a beautiful church - even if I blatantly lied in the Lord's house claiming to be a student for reduced entry.  
In the afternoon, we headed to the Doge's Palace.  What absolute opulence!  Insanely guilded rooms seemed to go on forever, Huge fireplaces with intricate mantles crowning the extreme display of wealth.  I kid you not, these Veninicians think they really are something.  Dinner at a little place behind the hotel -artisti something - proved to be tasty - homemade ravioli with spinach in some sort of rich creamy delight.  We had to be the classless americans though, and eat and run.  We were running late to see some piano concert all the way across town.
My mom is reading a book on Venice's opera house.  Nicknamed the phoenix because it has "risen from the ashes" after two major fires (the last one in 1996 was deemed an arson), Mary has fixated herself on seeing la finice.  So, we rushed through the winding alleys, asking a local every three steps for direction (obvioously not my choice).  We arrived to the white marbled building just in time to be ushered to our PRIVATE box.  Oh my gosh, how much I felt like Mary Todd Lincoln.  We were directly in front of the piano, too.  Everyone could see us - in all of our misery.  Mom's neck was bothering her so she looked like a bobble head, bouncing her chin up and down.  I was just plain bored out of my mind.  I'm all for culture, but give me a break.  We decided to make a break for it, grabbing our purses, shopping bag and bee lining for the exit.  After dragging Mary out the main doors (she wanted to roam the lobby) we discovered it was absolutely pouring.  Not in a normal rainstorm sort of way.  In an oh-my-gosh what is happening and wtf, was that just lightning?!? Sort of way.  Yes, Venice was in the midst of an unexpected, unbelievable torrential thunderstorm.  After staring blankly for several minutes, we decided a plan of action was needed.  Mom went back into her operatic landmark while I stayed on the porch of sorts, continuing to gawk at the sheets of sideways water gleaming in the flashing of the bolts.  Now, here's where it gets good.  My mother, ever the inventor's wife, comes out of la finice with two shopping bags.  Yes, shopping bags, which we unabashedly placed atop our head to make the quick dash to Martini, a local pre-opera hoity-toity spot with dim lighting.  It was just across the piazza and looked...well...dry.  So we made a run for it, only to be viewed as the stupid Americans which we are, only made worse by the unsightly bags over our head.  We waited a good ten minutes with no service, despite at least 3 tuxedo donning waiters staring at us in disgust.  Ahhh, the judgmental servers.  So we left, dragging our pant hems through puddles and ruining our attire, all with plastic bags placed over our domes.  We moved faster than I've ever seen Mary go before, but hey, I get it.  Coifs come before tired and sore feet.  Back in room 107, mud was dragged all over the white carpet. Wool blazers were turned to crepe, silk blouses watermarked and wrinkled.  All while my adorable raincoat smiled at me from the closet.  

Day 1

Monday, April 4, 2011 -5:02am
Venice

Currently pinching myself.  Mom and I arrived in Venice yesterday about noon.  Seriously a city perched on water, no textbook or postcard could prepare you for the beauty and awe of Venice.  The history of the buildings and cobblestoned corridors silences even yours truly.  

Our flight was, well, twelve hours in very cramped seats.  Since we left at 1:30pm, the whole idea of sleep was ludacris.  Hungry, bored and in desperate need of wine, I'm surprised I didnt die.  A quick jog around the Amsterdam international terminal (nothing is quick about going through security with a bionic-hipped mother, however.  They like to swipe her down with magic wands over and over and over...) and we made it.  Paulo and his fabulous enterage of drivers and boaters greeted us at the gate, shuttling us to our private vaperetto.  The sun was shining, sparkling against the infamous filthy canal sludge.  Standing up in the. Back of the water taxi, wind literally in my hair, I found myself smiling.  Extremely exhausted just moments before, the palazzos rising up from the waterways, seemingly with no earthly foundations, blew me away.  Docked and en route to Casa V..., I realized how Truly narrow and windy all of these little alleyways really are.
Did you know Venice has no cars?  I mean, of course you do, they've been teaching us this since we were little.  But really, no cars...just boats.  Romantic couples and Asian tourists drift by in cheesy gondolas, their drivers wearing the traditional striped shirts and straw hats.  Our hotel room, hidden behind an unmarked door smack dab in the middle of the breakfast room is, well, ridiculously small.  I know Europe is notorious for it's tiny guest rooms but wow.  
We wandered aimlessly around the crowded Plaza de San Marco, shamelessly staring, groggy-eyed at the locals and tourists bustling about their Sunday.  A quick glass of wine at a tourist trap (pretty sure I forced my mom to sit.  Drink.  Damnit) and we continued our mapless journey.  After gazing at Designer boutiques, hidden parks full of kissing couples and ancient nonas and nondescript churches holding 400 year old artistic treasures, we ended up having a very quick plate of pasta at a cafe lining the plaza.  I washed my face, brushed my teeth and was out before 8.  Of course, I had been up for some ought 28 hours.  Now I'm up at an ungodly hour; the difference is I'm in Italy.  I can sleep when I'm dead.  Xo

Honestly, no idea why I am at work today.  It's not like I am getting anything accomplished.  Redic.

* I just used "here" when I should have used "hear".  I am confused, upset and feel dirty.  I never misuse.  Sigh. 

Monday Morning...

* First off, I had the best meal last night.  We took family night on the road, venturing out to Little Bird, my man-friend Gabriel Rucker's newest venture.  I even showered and did my hair - just in case I had a sighting.  I adore that man - he does everything right...good decor, excellent wine list, AMAZING food. 

* Dating sucks.  Period.

* I have an overspending problem.  I can't help it.  I must consume...must spend hundreds on clothes I will undoubtedly not be able to wear in a month.  Being a size where I can once again fit into cute clothes, I feel the need to buy, buy, buy. 

* Speaking of being a certain size - the pants I am currently wearing are my "Inspiration Pants" - the ones I have had hanging over my closet door since November.  Yup.  I am wearing them today for the first time.  Take that, old me.  Take that. 

You Ain't Got Sh*T To Do...

It's Friday...Thank Gawd.

* My mother just called.  Maria is at her house - would I like her to drop by mine?  Well, of course I do! 
       Maria has been cleaning my apartment since November.  She only comes every few months, not like, weekly or anything.  I find having "help" wonderful.  I am a neat person by nature and my apartment is so minimalistic I really never have clutter.  I make my bed everyday, my towels are always neatly folded on the appropriate rack - I just hate doing floors.  So, Maria comes every so often and gives everything a good dust, sweep, mop and vacuum - a wondrous arrangement.  Only normally I take the recycling out before she visits.  Caught off guard this time, my recycling is overflowing...awesome.  Either she is going to think I am the wine-o I am, or she will think I had a very fun party.  Fingers crossed.

Wednesdays are Not My Fav...

...Actually, I don't think I have a favorite day.  Unless Friday after 5 counts.  How cliche. 

* I have officially been at my job a year.  Yesterday marked my anniversary.  Mary sent flowers. 

Today I am thankful for:
* Distance - One of my best friends (my "sissy") lives in NYC - and I think it's a good thing.  While, yes, I would love to have her around, there is something extremely special about our phone calls.  We never plan our conversations, they just - well, happen.  One of us drinks too much wine and calls the other, then the magic begins.  Gossiping like old women, we always pick up where we left off.  Our mothers, our weight, so-and-so's one night stand, real estate, how much to tip the maid...we cover every base, taking mutual smoke breaks and bodega runs without missing a beat.  Last night we discussed the men of Million Dollar Listing as if they were our close personal posse - "Can you believe Heather is dating him?!  What was with Josh's tie??"  - really, folks.  Solving World Hunger we are not but enjoying a lifelong friendship we are.

* Ludicrous Ideas - I think it's time to get inked again.  My mother would die and my employer would probably rather I not...eh, who cares. 

* Travel - I leave in TEN days!  Wahoo!  I cannot wait to write from an Italian cafe.  You all just wait - it will be glorious.

* Memories - I am clinging to the way a certain someone's lips curled ever-so-slightly as they smiled the last time I saw them.

* Sun - Can you beat the fact it's sunny today?!  While I've said it before, I don't mind the gray, wet PNW, I feel like dancing today.  Mostly because the sun is outtttttt.

Monday...

Guess what I did this weekend? 
NOTHING.  That's right.  I did nothing.  I played on my new iPad.  I watched a movie.  I drank wine and enjoyed my own company. 
I don't know if it's considered selfish or egotistical, or weird or what - but sometimes I think I have the most fun when I am alone.  I can watch/listen to whatever I want, I can wear PJs and skip makeup...it's always a good time.  Now, don't get me wrong, I have a great time with my friends when I DO go out...
Maybe it's the fact I deal with people all day long.  When I'm working I have to be "on" 100% of the time.  Sometimes I need to decompress.  With a cigarette, bunny slippers and silence. 

New Toys...No New Boys...

I'm typing this on my new iPad. It's awkward. Perhaps I should try removing the protective plastic casing. I'm in love with it, however. The iPad, not the casing.

Thursday...

* Why does nothing beat a good, cathartic cry? Really. Last weekend, after my great Wednesday night, the earthquake, etc. I put in a sappy movie and cried. Hard. Even harder after I downloaded sappy country songs. I was sad - true - but I wanted to be. I wanted the release which only comes with sobbing until your lungs hurt. There comes a point in such a breakdown where you take a big gulp of air, tip your chin back towards the sky and let calm once again come over you. There was not one specific reason to be upset. I am in a great, happy place in my life. I just needed liberation. From everything.

Ani DiFranco- 32 Flavors

Manic Monday...

* My body clock does NOT like Daylight Savings. I'm tired. Mostly because I stayed up late to watch "Sister Wives". I find mind control fascinating.

* Realizing my youth is flying by, I think I need to be more grateful. Today I am grateful for:

* Flirtation - Really. Is there anything better than the early stages of a good, healthy flirtatious relationship?

* Butterflies - This goes back to flirtation. Joni Mitchell described this as "the dizzy dancing way you feel". Well said.

* Friends Who Listen - Even if You Are Repeating The Same Old Rant - Stef must be getting tired of the "I care but I don't" texts. Danny must think the interpreting is annoying - but they're my friends and they just keep on letting me work this one out for myself. Amazing people surround me. I am extremely lucky. For D and S, and for all the others who know me and love me just the same.

* Hope - The ability to know it, have it, appreciate it. Tattooed on muh body - might be the most important gift I have ever found within myself.

* A Job in a Field I Love - I have a love/hate relationship with it - but isn't that the point? It's work, after all.

* The 6th Sense Feeling You Get When You Know Something is Trouble - we have the choice more often than not. Today I choose to go ahead and let myself sink into the trouble I have created. Owning it is half the battle.

Yesssss...

There are days when - despite a majorly major hangover, you have to just smile. Today is one of those days. I did it up right last night. Like, really.
Drinking games. Drag queens. Shots. Dancing. Karaoke. Armenian cab drivers. Passionate kisses. Good ipod mixes. Deep talks. Lust. 4am Bedtimes. 6am Alarms. Un-awkward mornings after. No regrets. No attachment. Pure and unadulterated perfection.

I'm really proud of myself. I, my friends, am not a stick in the mud. Oh no. I am a damn good time.

Things I Know - Tuesday Edition

* Attitude is everything.

* Waking up to a twinge of daylight today, for the first time this year makes me smile. I am not one to complain about the darkness and rain - but I am excited about the idea of Spring. Spring means travel, flowers, outdoor patios, and fresh starts.

* I enjoy being good at my job. I am feeling confident in myself as of late - maybe because I am kicking ass. Or I think I am. There I go questioning myself again...

* Speaking of outdoor patios and travel - I leave in 25 days. So excited. I am pretty sure I am going to pass out at the first sight of anything Italian. It's so romanticized in my head -sitting at a sidewalk cafe, sipping cappuccino, staring at beautiful men zipping by on Vespas. Sigh.

* The idea of flying for an entire day freaks me out. I cry, shake, rash out at the very thought of flying to California, yet alone over the Atlantic. What lies on the other side is more than enough inspiration to do it, however Mary's new acquisition of Ambien has me worried about the flight for reasons even farther out of my control. Can't you just see it now? A plane full of sleeping travelers, quietly snoozing...and out of nowhere, a petite older Southern lady is dancing in the aisles, cha-cha-ing her way through the rows. Oh dear. Ohhhh dear.

Foodie???

I love everything culinary. The food, the people, the scene - all things "foodie" have me under a spell. I follow the 411 in the restaurant scene. I know the meanings of the fancy french words. My favorite show is Top Chef. Micheal Voltaggio has my heart, along with Gabriel Rucker (gotta keep it local, too). I try to learn something new about food everyday. Living in a city ripe (pun intended) with extraordinary restaurants makes me giddy. I can't imagine being stuck in a Midwestern town with nothing but Chili's and Red Lobster. My soul would wither away. The funny thing is I am a vegetarian and refuse to eat flesh. Another telling aspect to the conundrum which is my life. Perhaps it is time to venture out. Maybe bacon is the gateway meat. Just sayin'.

Grown Up Vs. Grown Ass...

* Last night was a good reminder of why I am thankful I am a grown up. I have skillz now, not dramaz. Word.

* I apparently look 12. Yes, this was told to me by someone who I would much rather view me as sexy. Hot. Smokin'. Alas, I am "cute". Cute?! What am I 12? Yes, I asked this in return. Their response? "You do look 12 sometimes You have those young features". How, do you suppose, I should interpret that?

Le Sigh...

Well, looks like I shaved my legs in vein this morning. The boy is now working until midnight tonight, instead of hanging out with yours truly. ANNOYING. I mean, I can't blame the guy for working. He needs the hours, I get that. But...I was looking forward to it. Sigh.

It's a good thing I didn't plan my entire week around him...oops.

Looks like my good friend boxed wine and I will have a very hot date this evening. I should probably invite DVR. He's always a kick in the pants. I need to start painting again. Maybe tonight would be a good time to do so. Only I don't have a clue where an art supply store is in Vancouver - and I'm not sure I would want to find out. This city scares me. I feel far more comfortable on the south side of the Columbia River. Things are just easier over there.

Example: Last night I needed gas - no way I would have made it back to Oregon. So, I put on my big girl pants and drove to the closest service station. One problem. I could. not. make. it. work. Seriously, 20 minutes of futzing with the damn thing. I turned around, hoping someone would see my distress and come to my rescue - sure enough, Justin and Mariah from the banquet staff were right there! I frantically waved my arms at Justin, asking him to please get out of the car and assist me. He begrudgingly came to my side, looking at me like I was seriously inept. Justin took one look at the pump and told me to go inside to pay. That's it. I am officially a spoiled, helpless Oregonian. Sigh.

Sheer Panic

There is a fine line between nervous energy and panic. I thrive on stress - something I discovered the first week of working in my profession. I'm addicted to endorphins, I suppose. Cute boys tend to flip the switch to panic, however. Realizing I might ACTUALLY hangout with this boy - the fact it might ACTUALLY happen - has me freaking out. Take the onset of wedding season, add a two week period I will be out of the country- unable to control anything, toss in a cute boy who is tall and mysterious and BAM. Sweaty palms, tight chest...full on freak out.
Confidence is a funny thing. Wine helps, however.

Saturday Morning Edition

Last night was monumental. Why? We found the best. bar. ever. Okay, maybe not EVER but pretty damn good for a "stumble upon". Fuzzy tvs playing the Zers game, a bonfire in the back, a Foosball table, and PBR on draft - these are a few of my favorite things. I do believe Lucky's was the perfect setting for our Friday night. Yes, my head hurts a bit this morning. And yes, I am exhausted. And yes, I am foggy enough to start two sentences in a row with "And". But I laughed. A lot. Can you think of anything more therapeutic than an accidental great time with good people who not only inspire you to be better than you are, offer wonderful dating tips, agree to call you Rachel when appropriate, and sing whole-heartedly to Madonna in a bar full of angry men sporting unkempt beards? I enjoyed being "unapologetically myself". Something I am learning is easier said than done. Sometimes the stars align and the bitter cold drives you to enter the first door you come to.

Voila. Lucky's on Friday.

Welcome Back, Kotter!

Well, well, well. It has been a longggg ass time. Thanks Kristi. Your fabulous sense of humor and wonderful writing inspired me to "get back in the saddle".

I can't stop smiling. I've been bitten by the eewy, gooey crush bug. Very similar to a 12 year old school girl, I am on cloud nine because a boy paid attention to me. While I am aware this gross feeling goes against everything I stand for, I can't help it. HE TEXTED ME!! "He" - let's call him Fred - is gorgeous. This superficial fact alone has me all atwitter. I'm not sure we have ever really spoken in person. Maybe a passing, "hi"...but that's probably it. I can't bring myself to open my mouth around him, I get too nervous. Yes, this socially capable, self-described people person is at a loss for words because of a pretty boy. Sigh. So, how, you may ask, did we progress to texting? THANK YOU Mr. Zuckerberg. I owe you. Big time. A friend request, a few humiliating drunkbook messages, a desperate attempt to share my digits...and BAM! I am pretty sure he is petrified of my very calculated scheduling of our "hanging out". Being a gal who plans things for a living, I obviously had to have the day and time frame mapped out. In attempts to not come across psychotic, I prefaced my insanity with, "I'm an event planner - I like planning. It's sick, I know. Yes, I also like spread sheets". His response? "Yeah i'm not just FYI :)". The sad thing is the use of the smiley face did, in fact, make me grin. Sheesh, Fal. Get it together! Anyway, we are supposedly going to hangout Wednesday after he gets off work. Let's see how this pans out. I want to get into trouble. Fingers crossed.