My Umbrella (Ella ella eh eh eh)

Altruist or ass? You decide.

Before jumping in the car to head to the grocery store I grab my over sized umbrella from the back of the truck and toss it into the back seat for easy access. It had just begun to rain and I didn't want to have to climb over the backseat to reach it in the event that the rain picked up by the time I made it to the market. And it was a good thing I did... no sooner had I pulled out onto the street than it began to downpour.

As I drove down a main street in my neighborhood I saw a middle-aged couple hunched under a tree with their dog on a leash. Obviously surprised by the sudden and heavy rain while out walking their dog, they were soaked. I drove by them feeling compelled to help, but how?

Instinctively I make a U-turn and pull up alongside them. I roll down my passenger-side window and push my umbrella outside yelling over the pounding rain and traffic, insisting that they take it. The man runs to the car looking relieved. I say that we must be pretty close neighbors and give him my cell number explaining that we can arrange to get the umbrella back to me some other time. Gratefully he accepts the umbrella and runs back to provide shelter to his wife.

As I drove past them a second time, now back en route to the grocery store - it dawns on me that he hesitated at the window when I handed him the umbrella. I KNEW he was thinking "Are you serious?" but I thought he might be thinking "Are you serious? What a nice lady." But what if he was thinking, "Are you serious? You're going to offer me a freakin umbrella instead of a ride?"

He couldn't have expected me to offer them a ride with a wet dog in tow, right? I mean, truth is, it DID cross my mind to offer to take them the presumably short distance to their house. But a wet/muddy dog and beige leather...ahhhhh, I couldn't do it!

Was I a bitch for not offering theirs a ride?

Sexy Sister

This pic is NOT digitially edited. This is a real picture (borrowed from a friends blog) taken at a local outdoor mall near the Apple Store.

Do your thing girl.

Loser

Tricked by the lyrics of "Cats in the Cradle," I thought that Cat Stevens sang the song (at the very least did a remake-- stupid mistake, I know). However, Jay, the King of Obscure Information and avid VH1: I Love the 70s fan, insisted I was wrong. So confident was he that he proposed the following wager: if I were wrong I would have to eat lunch with the crew from work every day for a week -- not so bad, but WAIT there's more... I'd have to hand over my blackbizzle for the duration of lunch (no text messaging/emailing/web surfing) OUCH!!!... AND I'd have to be completely silent -- BRUTAL! That's right - no talking -- for the entire hour.

Go ahead, laugh. For those of you who know me -- you may be laughing at the perceived impossibility of this feat or maybe you know how impossible it would be to get me to actually pay on a bet like that. For those of you who DON'T know me...I'm not gonna lie; it's kinda weird that you're reading my blog.

I'll admit, the wager itself stung a little. Does this mean I'm seen as a blackberry addicted babbler? Either way, I accepted the challenge, blinded by the allure of a win and the hilarious image of JAY NOT texting or talking for an hour. Had I thought long enough about it, I might have seen that I was falling into a common trap. Regretfully, I made haste, and it cost me.

Called out for trying to fake a win (showing them the first google result for Cats in the Cradle lyrics, which erroneously cite Cat Stevens as the singer), I agreed to take my medicine like a big girl. I am, afterall, a woman of my word.

Effective Monday - June 11, no talking and no blackberry from the time we sit to eat to the time the check is signed. Mercifully (and a bit in-your-faceish) Jay bought me a dry erase board with which I communicate during these periods of silence.

Though I refuse to wear it around my neck as intended the board has come in handy. I order my lunch with it, thank the servers, and make some small contribution to the table conversation with short comments or a simple "LOL." I use pictures and words to get my point across and have even cursed on the board.

I have to admit, it's only day 2 and I've already learned alot from this little exercise. On Day 1, true to form, I tried to keep up with the group conversation as much as possible, and carry on side conversations as well (all via dry erase board). Exhausting! By Day 2 I'd started to pick and choose my contributions so as not to wear myself out. Forced to listen more (by virtue of talking less) I realize just how much of an hour's interraction is drivel...

And I miss participating.

All of this makes me wonder, "Does what I say add substance to a dialogue? Do my quick text exchanges add value to my relationships?" In communication terms: "Is my message benefiting the receiver (or sender for that matter) in some way?"

Reminds me of a quote by Jorge Luis Borges, "Don't talk unless you can improve upon silence."

He never met my lunch buddies.


(Video) I know the MP crew can relate to some of these scenes from a BB commercial...funny.


(Music Video) Check out the leg warmers and corded phones!

My New (Para)Normal

Craving entertainment and a little curious (read: alot curious) I went to see a psychic (not psychiatrist, or psychologist, you read it right -- a psychic). I didn't see a carnival psychic nor did I drop coinage into one of those standalone scales you find in the mall that tells you how likely you are to find love or hit the lottery. Nope. I went to see an all out, bonafide clairvoyant (ok, there isnt exactly a certification process).

Referred to him by a friend, I initiated a call to Dwayne and got his voicemail. "Hmmmm, if he's really good," I thought, "he'll KNOW I called or, at the very least he'll see the missed call with my number and know who I am and what I want, right?" Not wanting to waste time or take chances, I left my first name and cell number.

We later talked and setup the appointment for later the same day at a local, little known, bookstore where cats roam the aisles freely. Nope, not kidding. But then, what did you expect? The drive happens without my noticing. I'm too busy making mental lists of questions to ask and of "bad news" that I DON'T want to know (having mostly to do with death or serious illness for myself or others).

I arrive more nervous than most job interviewees. I'm one of perhaps 4 customers in the store. The stout balding man behind the cash register whispers a joke to a tabby on the counter, half waiting for a response. This place is rich and scary all at once. I anxiously wait and scan the room for Dwayne; I can't wait for the comfort of a familiar voice even if it belongs to a member of the occult.

I hear a religious friend's voice play in my head "You're inviting the devil into your house by doing this!" I'm momentarily panicked. Then I remember that I've recently moved and didn't leave a forwarding address. The devil wouldn't even know where to begin to look. Ha!

So Dwayne comes in and gets right to work. Now, I hate to disappoint but there was no crystal ball. Turns out his medium of choice is the tarot card. He lays them out and immediately describes, with spot on accuracy, recent goings on in my life.

His predictions for the future were centered around work and love; great news in both areas (yesssssssss!)!! He explained that the Ace of Swords (shown above) represents triumph in excess and great prosperity. This particular card repeatedly showed up during my reading -- very compelling. I should expect to see triumph and prosperity at work and in love any day now, *sigh*, though a watched pot never boils.

Oh, and it turns out tarot card interpretations are like illnesses -- google them and you'll scare the crap out of yourself. I just looked up the ol' triumph card and learned that if it appears upside down or reversed in the deck it can mean "misery in excess, pregnancy" or mixed with the right (or wrong) combination of cards, "death." The next time I go to see him, I won't be able to look at the cards for fear of seeing a crooked, reversed, or upside down tarot. I'll sit at the little checkers table at the back of the book store with my eyes closed much like I do on rollercoasters when I'm brave (or stupid) enough to get on them.

Oh, and if he ever gives me the lottery numbers, I'll be sure to post them here ;)

Pheeling Philosophical

I may spend more time philosophizing than I do living - that is to say, reflecting upon life as it occurs in pursuit of establishing causal relationships and to glean a more comprehensive or deeper understanding of the truth in reality. (Even as I write this I'm philosophizing over whether the net result of such philosophizing is less or more life lived - e.g. Does the pursuit enhance the quality of life such that it compensates for the time away from living? And so on...ah the joys of logic loops!)

Anyway, I believe that philosophy, like religion, can be a spiritual medium through which man connects himself/herself to something larger and more deep rooted than the experience of his/her own life. And so I indulge myself.

Inspiration for philosophy can come from anywhere. Events, circumstances, situations, religious texts, etc. For me, I'm struck by poignant quotes (love Eleanor Roosevelt for this) and timeless triumphs and struggles (joy, pain, excitement, disappointment, contentment, and heartbreak, etc.).

I'm reading a novel in which the author quotes The Bhagavad Gita (a Sanskrit text considered sacred by the majority of Hindu traditions, I learned).

"It is better to live your own destiny imperfectly than to live an imitation of somebodyelse's with perfection."

I won't try to explain how the reference has affected me; just throwing it out there for your consumption. One of my favorites from Eleanor Roosevelt:

"One's philosophy is not best expressed in words; it is expressed in the choices one makes."

Hasta la Vez Próxima Costa Rica!

DAYS 4 & 5: Costa Rica

Day 4 (a.m.): Spent time shopping in Jaco for trinkets with Royl. As with most tourist areas all of the shops melted into each other - each store looked like the one before it - inventories and prices only slightly varying. Royl managed to make one stop very exciting - a walking stick was leaned against the wall inside a shop, it fell over knocking a framed something or other off the wall. Glass shattered and customers and clerks alike scanned the room, bewildered, looking for a culprit. But there wasn't anyone near enough to have caused the stick to fall over (it really just kind of slid on its own, I think). Royl, trying to be funny, said to the store clerk, "Haha un fantasma!"

The clerk didn't find this funny at all, in fact, Royl later tells me that she said something under her breath like "A ghost, MY ASS!" (in Spanish of course). Not knowing there'd been this awkward exchange between the two of them I continued to shop around. Royl stepped just outside the front door as I approached the register to pay. Just then the clerk (young Tica - maybe 24ish) walks out the front door and confronts Royl. I hear the exchange because her one foot holds the door slightly ajar. She's raised her voice and is speaking much faster than I can possibly process the language, but my rough translation is, "ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME BY SAYING IT WAS A GHOST? YOU THINK I'M STUPID? WERE YOU LAUGHING AT ME? YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?" Her volume and tone attracted attention and a scene was in the making. Royl, surprised at her brazen confrontation backs off and apologizes, explaining that he only was making light of an awkward situation. Put off by the clerks behavior - I leave the merchandise on the counter and walk out.

Day 4 (p.m.): We had lunch at La Colonia and then met back up with Edwin for more surfing. Unfortunately the red tide rolled in with high tide and the brownish-red water was super salty. I tried to get into it, but the thought of possibly swallowing bacteria, over grown phytoplankton, or remnants of dead sea life psyched me out. We surfed for 45 min or so and called it a day.

Day 5: Departure. Heading home at the end of holiday is sweet sorrow. The drive back through the mountains to San Jose was somber. No Cape Cods, no transportation/security saga. Eddie arrived in the marked van to pick us up right on time from the bungalow. We stopped off at a roadside fruit stand/kitchen that served familiar looking foods - namely empanadas of all kinds and fruit cups. In a momentary binge I grab a large cup of fruit (melon, papaya, mango and pineapple), order a fried plantain and take a diet coke to go (picture top of blog post).

The ride and flight home were uneventful. Half awake I drug my suitcase up the two flights of stairs to my apartment at 1am (making a whole lot of noise). Too tired to dread getting up for work at 7:30 the next morning, I put my head to my familiar pillow and was out.

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The trip was one I won't soon forget. I had the opportunity to rest, to indulge my own interests, to get sun (needed the Vitamin D), and above all, I had the distance I needed to get a better perspective of life back home. I highly recommend a like trip to all my friends -- if you have the chance to travel to Costa Rica - DO IT! It was reasonable, beautiful, and offers plenty to do. I'll definitely be back!