Love and Happiest of Birthdays to Me

I have been mum about my birthday and it’s quite unusual. If you’ve followed this blog for some time, you would know that July is a month-long celebration for me. I usually don’t have birth “days”. I go all out and have birth “months”.

Well, thirty five is different. 35. Doesn’t it sound so.. ominious? The week of my birthday started out with a blog post like this:

“My birthday week is finally here and I have to be honest, I dread it. If you’ve followed this blog and if you know me, this is mighty unusual. I typically welcome my birthday month with revelry and celebrate the entire month, but this year, I don’t quite have that in me. This is the first year that I’ve had the outlook of lets-just-get-this-over-and-done-with. I am in full blown denial. I’m not used to it myself.

And maybe a lot of it has to do with the fact that I’m thirty five in a couple of days. 35. It’s so in-between and I think that is what is so unsettling about it. I look at the prospects ahead and it seems like 35 really is just the age where one cruises until retirement. Yes! I’m such an existential flow that I’m contemplating life’s jarring realities as retirement! On one hand it’s melodramatic, but on the other, it’s practical and oh-so-boring. There are none of the milestones, the crazy must-do’s, the must-haves of the twenties, and even the early 30’s. Because really, when done right, at 35, you would have already done those, had those, bought those. When those have all been ticked off, what remains is just, well, what? Could anyone tell me?”

But I have learned that when I turn into an ungrateful, sourpuss bitch, someone I don’t even want around, I know to count my blessings, and those I have countless of! Between this birthday and my last one, I have traveled to many places in different corners of the world, many of which only existed in my daydreams long ago.

Just a few of my travels in between birthdays: Venice, Amsterdam, Paris, and Puerto Rico

I chose not to have a party this year, the first in a long while. I truly had wanted to evade the birthdayness. I was on full on denial. Yet all along, I just wanted to be on my mountainbike, in solace with nature where the social constructs that I allow to bog me down are absent. On a saddle, in the mountains, freaking biological clocks are silenced shut. It was one hour of “teeter-totters”, a term I’ve stolen from another rider we met on the trail. All it means is plenty of undulation in the hills – up and down and away. The dirt single tracks were narrow and sometimes, a miscalculation would send you careening down a pretty steep hill. It was not entirely running away. It was just being present and allowing an experience to transcend everything else.

On the final day of my birthday month, I do want to make up and feel the gratitude and love that has swung my way. Thank you. I am alive and I never for a second want to take that feeling of really being here for granted. As with every birthday, I resolve to strive to always have that feeling of aliveness, not just mere living. And it is always, always an uphill battle, but my prayer is that I become the best version of myself yet, regardless of circumstance, and to be the kind of person I actually love having around.

A fitting reminder at the cafe where we had lunch after the mountain bike ride

Love and happiest of birthdays to me.
Trish

The Holy Grail of Salsa Shoes

If at some point in your life you have been around a salsera, or are/have been one yourself, you would have a sense that one of the few things that cause her anguish is the lack of shoes that have it all – form, function, and at a price you would not mind paying.  Sounds like the search for Mr. Right, I know.  I am somewhat of a dashboard junkie at work so my brain sees this quandary this way:

I have gone through a couple of Very Fine dance shoes since I started salsa dancing and the forlorn-looking one on the left is my last pair that is ready to retire.  Their typical life span is six months.  They average about $50 a pop and they are quite rampant online.  I would say they are okay shoes but after a few months (i.e. regular social dancing + one festival weekend), you will find yourself Googling podiastrists in your area.  I dance on the balls of my feet and these shoes just don't have enough cush where I need it (or at all, actually).  There's also so much more left to be desired when it comes to color and style choices.  



These are Ballo shoes that I used as a practice shoe when I still danced with a team.  They are really men's shoes that fit the length of my feet.  Seemed like a brilliant idea in the beginning, but trust me, it really isn't.  There is no ball support whatsoever and the fit is sloppy.  No shock there.

Both these shoes fall short on performance and yes, style.  But they were all I had and they were still better than my non-dancing shoes so I kept wearing them.  This is how they fall in the little quirky diagram in my head:

Burju shoes are what they use in Dancing with the Stars.  True, they are very stylish and fashionable and if you have $100+ to spend on salsa shoes, eat your heart out!  But if you consider that that is already a half a festival pass somewhere, I would hold off on charging that plastic.  This is how they rate in my books...

BUT look at what I scored online at this obscure website called Light in the Box.  

I absolutely cannot wait to bust them out on the floor!  They have standard suede soles and this is the part that really thrills me - they have extra padding for the balls of my feet!  They are custom made and are shipped all the way from Hong Kong, so if you're ordering these as your performance shoes, allow eight weeks for delivery (mine came in at six weeks).  Door-to-door, they cost me $35 which is 30% cheaper than the Very Fine ones that I order online.  If you do end up ordering them, take time to measure your feet according to the instructions on the website and then order the next size down.  If you're still reading this post, you already know that these shoes stretch out after hours of dancing.

I think I just might have geocached on this holy grail!

I Must Have a Thing for Dutch Guys

I’m still reeling from a phenomenally epic night watching Tiesto perform live at the local university stadium.  It is quite surreal and I’ve had dreams all night of still thumping to the beats machinated by this Dutch genius.  I didn’t think I would be, but I was starstruck seeing him, the #1 DJ in the world for years.  Some dispute that David Guetta is #1, but seriously?  In terms of longevity, artistry, and track record, in my partial view, Tiesto rises on top among anyone around today.  And seeing him perform live proves why.

The other astounding thing is that he came to my little town for a one-night only show where the big global names rarely pay a visit.  I paid $50 for a ticket which is not a preposterous amount in a stadium large yet small enough to have a somewhat intimate feel.  From where I was, I could see Tiesto’s facial expressions.  It is cool that I did not have to resort to watching him from a screen.  What I did not come prepared for was what a total extraordinary production it was – laser lights, vivd colors, fog and smoke, fireworks shooting from the stage, confetti dropping from the ceiling – all synchronized with the music set.  I cannot help but think how this guy really knows his sh*t.  I probably would not have noticed otherwise, but in retrospect, I’m glad he didn’t come half-assed, because all that effort made it much more than a show.  It’s suddenly transformed into an experience (so much so that it merits a blog post!).

Electronic dance music is an interesting genre.  Some people don’t have the tenacity for it.  I know I didn’t up until half a decade ago.  It’s music that has so many subtle complex layers.  There’s a whole gamut of undertones left to be revealed – jazz, hip hop, Latin, rock, ballad.  It started appealing to me because in the midst of what is seemingly monotonous and formless, you tune in to it with all you’ve got – ears, mind, soul, and then finally the body - until you find IT.  And when you tap into it, it’s a glorious release that compels you to do nothing but move mindlessly.  Dance music, extremely great dance music, literally blows your mind away.

It’s music that is alive.  It can be tender, romantic, innocent, heartbroken, sad, happy, sappy, intense - but always alive and free.  I think it takes a great skill and tuning in to the collective human energy to know when to bring these elements in.  And geniuses like Tiesto are geniuses because they have that rare quality to know exactly how to do it.  Scientist?  Artist?  Both? 

And then there’s the buildup.  If I really allow myself to think about it, it amazes me how powerful music in this sense.  It’s incomprehensible.  Great DJ’s  weave and build this tension – slow, fast, super-fast, no matter.  Sometimes it’s torture that leaves you breathless and longing for what lies on the other side.  And you know it when you hear it.  You know when it is about to come.  And when you hear it, for a nanosecond, you, along with everyone around, hold your breath waiting for what will be revealed.

Then the beat drops.

And it’s mindless madness.

It’s utter unbridled chaos.

It’s beautiful.

Electric Daisy Carnival 2013, anyone?

October Surprise

I'm so behind on posting pictures and there's nothing like some airport downtime to motivate one to upload some aging photos.

They've been tapping their feet in impatience at me, "Let's go!"

Nature has yet taunted us with a significant snowfall in the autumn.  The first snowstorm of the Tahoe area happened in October again.  Instead of reading this as an indication of perhaps a great winter season, I'd defer the weather predictions to the meteorologists.  If we base it on last year's snow results, we know, "in like a lion" is not really a promise of anything.

But what is good about snow in autumn, other than the obvious water supply argument, is that it is a beautiful time to be outside.  The ground is blanketed in snow (and in the case of Mount Rose Meadows, at least six inches of fresh powder) and coats the woods in whimsy.  It's not quite freezing yet so that means, it's the perfect and rare chance for a hike in the snow.

A Dutch boyfriend with an adventurous spirit, a Garmin EDGE 800, water, a Toblerone, loads of sunshine, crisp mountain air (and proper technical gear for me this time around) and we are rockin'.

Except for the occasional chirping of birds who sounded as happy as we were to be alive at that moment and the muffled crunch of snow under our feet, the meadows were so quiet - not at all in an unnerving way, but in a solitary, almost sacred way. We occasionally passed a cross country skier or a couple on their way back from their own hike, and if it were not for some dog and ski tracks, one would think the rest of civilization had vanished and left all this wild, white beauty to ourselves.

We ascended in silence, me trailing behind the Dutch. It was not a time to talk. It was not a time to make plans.  It was a time to let the world be.  It was a time to revere nature's cycles and marvel at the unseen hand that painted a scene so idyllic. We had no real plan of where we're going or where we're supposed to end up. I followed the Dutch and the Dutch, I suppose, followed his gut.

I watched the interplay of light and shadow all around me as the late morning sun illuminated dry pine needles on the ground you otherwise would not take notice of. And I think how light is part of shadow in as much as shadow is part of light. There is no summer without winter, no heat if we don't know what cold is.

I am unaware of exactly how long we had been hiking.  When asked if we should climb this steep hill, I did not hesitate.  Little did we both know, the pay off would be magnificence like this:

Lake Tahoe, in all its splendor, as blue as the blue, blue sky, opened up before our eyes and jaws as wide as discs.  We did not seek this view, yet we were rewarded with it.  It was like waking up on Christmas morning and finding a big surprise under the tree.  

We sat on a rock, tore open the Toblerone we've been saving until we know we've earned something and shared a milk chocolate nougat goodness with the best view in the world at that moment.

The seriousness didn't last very long since a snowball fight was just too irresistible.  

After a dozen or more (failed) attempts by the Dutch to hit me with a snowball, we started our descent back, cheeks flushed and hearts bursting with those unspeakable things.  

It is often said that in one's last few moments of life, our life flashes before us.  I am certain - CERTAIN - that when my time is up, this day will flash before me, and right here and now, as I write this, I am happy that I put on those snow shoes and went out in the woods that cold October morning.

And THIS is Where They Salsa in Paris

Photo copyright belongs to Google 2012

A five minute walk from Opera Bastille is Le Barrio Latino, which is actually part of the Buddha Bar network. It's nice to have a portable passion.  I won't need to speak French here!

Oh, I can hear the Cuban music already!

Pardon... Je Ne Comprends Pas

I have been smitten with the French language and I cannot explain why.  I remember sitting on the muni in San Francisco behind two French ladies one day.  I was pretty certain they were having an argument, but they sound as though they were exchanging compliments about each other’s hair instead.  At that time, I was already taking rudimentary French but I learned that day that it will take me a very long time before I can advance to “French for Eavesdroppers”. Spare for a trip to French Canada, I have not had the opportunity to practice my “French for Babies”.  I still remember a few words here and there and if I think REALLY hard and I get desperate, I might be able to croak, “Ou est la Tour Eiffel?”. But that will be the extent of my French.

After over three years, I’ve picked up trying to learn French again - out of necessity, this time.  Friends, je vais a Paris!

It would be interesting how far I could go with listening to podcasts thirty minutes a day on my short drive to and from work and studiously working on a couple workbooks for four weeks.  I don't think I'll get the ROI from Rosetta Stone given the procrastinated nature of my trip - unless somebody is willing to loan me one?    

In about four weeks, I will be in the country of my favorite guttural and nasal speakers.  I would be sitting at a Parisian café sipping French coffee al fresco, dreamily watching Parisian life go by while the air buzzes with the melancholy of the singsong French language filled with conversations about mundane, everyday affairs like someone telling someone how much laundry she did that day or the a man complaining to the waiter that the toilet would not flush.

Somebody, pinch me!     

Make Your Own Paradise

I read an essay once written by a man who is literally kept alive by traveling. A couple of decades ago, his doctors told him he was not going to live much longer and forbade him to travel due to his illness. He rebelled against doctor's orders and twenty years later, he's still alive and he is convinced that the traveling has kept him alive. He said that through living in the midst of dying, he has learned that our only moral obligation to the world and to others is to be the best versions of ourselves. If we are happy, we really don't need much to make the others around us happy.

I don't know about you, but I tend to take life lessons from dying people, for whom death is an immediate and tangible reality that they face everyday.

With warm weather back again, I have transformed our backyard into an oasis. I am responsible for making things happen in my life and I am accountable for being my own paradise. That's not someone else's burden. And so I did! In the project-filled three or four weeks, I cannot tell you that I did not get obsessive at times. But even that can be channeled into good. If there's a passion to be proud of, one of them would definitely be to do exactly the kind of things that make YOU happy, to be living the lift YOU want to live. It sounds selfish but you will find that this same exact thing is what radiates to other people. It creates smiles, laughter, inspiration, and light.

I am content that I won't have any more major projects all summer. I am happy that I won't be consumed too much anymore about decorating ideas and where to get them at the best price.

Instead, guess where I'll be....

XOXO
Trish



Ta-da! My very own paradise...

You can have your own, too!
1. We get full sun in the afternoon and needed some type of shade so we can hang out in the backyard comfortably while we sip cappuccinos or read in the sun. After a used gazebo deal from Craigslist turned south (I got ripped off.. $30 down the hole, not the end of the world, but still a little sad), we figured it's better to invest in a brand new one. We got this IKEA Ammero Gazebo for $149. It was pretty fool-proof to assemble and the wind vents are a great idea. It's pretty windy up here and it has withstood winds, although when we had that day of about 35mph gusts, I had to take out the top. It would have held, but I didn't want to risk it. Me and my mom put the top back up in 20 minutes. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

2. Translucent/sheer curtains are about $8 apiece bought at *gulp* Walmart. The outdoor rug made of natural fibers was bought at Ross for $49.

3. SOLVINDEN Solar-powered pendant lighting for $9.99 from Ikea works great. Like I said, we get full sun in our backyard and instead of working against it, we are working with it.

4. This side gets the most sun so I decided on a more opaque fabric so we can pull the curtains if the sun gets too intense. These are actually shower curtains bought on clearance at Target for $7 each. The beauty about this is that they are the perfect length and clip on the gazebo rods using clear shower rings that only cost about $1 on average. They are also water and mold resistant (as they were made for the bathroom) and washable.

5. We decided to give Craigslist another shot and actually scored this picnic table for $60 with delivery. I grew up in a house with a picnic bench that my dad made and I remember how I loved that bench. I had to get one for pure nostalgia and also for more seating for summer BBQs.

6. Due to a drip line that refuses to be found by an amateur (i.e. Me), this side of the yard has looked pale. Until the other day, my only option for growing anything AND keeping it alive out on this side is a container garden. I had an old, non-functional BBQ that has sat in the backyard for YEARS. I repurposed it and gutted it out so I could still use the shelves. I have bunnies and gophers in the yard and I need to keep them away from helping themselves into a free-for-all salad bar. The elevation from these shelves are perfect! For the herbs and tomatoes, I used Smart Pots which are fabric pots that drain well and provide root aeration. They cost about $4 for a 3 gallon and about $8 for the 7 gallon. Not bad, considering ceramic pots cost upwards of $20 for the bigger ones. I ordered these Root Pouches which are made from recycled materials and which biodegrade themselves after a few years. They are dirt cheap, too!

Some Baby Pictures (Not What You Think)

The basil seeds germinated a few days early! Today, they came out of the mini greenhouse and got upgraded to a window seat!

I love this time of the year when it is just teeming with life outside. Birds tease and quibble. The lizards are out doing their noon-time pushups. Flowers are blossoming. The two newborn doves were in flight school yesterday and when we woke up today, the nest was empty. My gardening enterprise has been successful so far and I harvested a few stems of fresh basil for a dish for our small backyard BBQ. Garden to table, baby!

Most of all, I am amazed how seeds sprout and burst out of the earth with so much ferocity. It's mind-blowing how much vigor is contained in that tiny seedling for it to explode out of the soil and lift itself from the heavy dirt.

That is LIFE.

Miraculous.

Beautiful.

Happy Primavera!

XOXO
Trish