A Blog Away From Home

The loss of a parent. This resonated with me.

2011-03-21T20:58:00.000-07:00

"It is not just about the desire of the living to resuscitate the dead but about the ways in which the dead drag us along into their shadowy realm because we cannot let them go. So we follow them into the Underworld, descending, descending, until one day we turn and make our way back."

An excerpt appears in The New Yorker Magazine
Story's End - Writing a Mother's Death
by Meaghan O'Rourke

Damn that's good writing. I couldn't have said it better myself. A woman writes about her mother's death from Cancer.

Reading this brought me back to the days of driving my dad to doctor's appointments, when he was diagnosed with Bladder Cancer, radiation treatments, chemo, days spent in the hospital by his bedside...all of those memories came bubbling up to the surface.

It all happened so fast. He was dead a year after being diagnosed with Cancer. I'm still digesting and going over every detail in my mind, as if I could have averted what happened in the end - my dad dying.

There are days I am driving home and I get this pang in my chest that reminds me that I haven't seen my dad in awhile and that I should go see him. Pay him a visit. It happens all in a split nanosecond. That's when it hits me that I can't see my dad because he's dead.

It's been 8 months since my dad died. I still find myself in tears just about everyday at random moments of the day. There are times when I feel like he's with me. Times I'm driving by myself with the radio on and I swear it feels like he's sitting next to me in the passenger seat (just like all those times I drove him out to the VA Hospital). Or the time I was teaching my 5 year old daughter how to ride a bike. I felt his presence with us and was so sad he couldn't be there alive to see it. My daughter was in tears when she rode by me and said, "I miss Grandpa. I wish he didn't die." She felt it too.

That metaphor of following the dead into the Underworld and descending and descending is so dead on. My loved one died. He was my father. The first hurt was when his mind was going, the second when his physical body died. It's unthinkable to let him go. I'm the keeper of his memories. The last one who can prove he existed and tell you how much he meant to me. I can't abandon him. So I keep following him, while looking back the way I came. How much further before I have to turn back?

And the pain continues.

I miss my dad's voice, I miss him saying my name and his laughter and his jokes, and his warm, bear hugs. I even miss the feel of the stubble on his cheeks. I miss that he's not here to see his granddaughter grow (something that made him happy - He loved being a Grandpa). I read a blog post from a number of years back when my dad told me that he hoped he would live long enough for my daughter (his granddaughter) to remember him. And I know he hung on for as long as he did for us kids (my brother & I).

I'll follow you for as long as I can Dad, yet I know at some point I'll have to turn and make my way back. It doesn't mean I love you any less. And it will pain me to do so. The one comfort I have is knowing I will see you again when it's my time. We will hold hands like we always did and I'll have no reason to be afraid.

1776-1976 U.S. "BiCentennial" Quarter

2011-03-17T23:46:00.001-07:00

I've been finding a lot of 1976 bicentennial quarters lately. I hadn't seen one in years and now less than a year after my dad's death I've come across several of them. And each one holds a memory of my dad.

"Hold onto those. One day they'll be worth a lot of money," my dad would tell me when I was a kid. So I did. Every single one I came across I wouldn't spend it. I'd save it and put it with my collection.

(Coin collecting was a hobby we both enjoyed and would sit for hours with a magnifying glass sorting through coins together, filling up our blue books.)

So now as a 37 year old woman, my dad dead and buried, in less than a week I've come across 3 of these rare quarters that I hadn't seen in ages - and each time I thought of my dad and tears came to my eyes. I stored them away. Just like the memories of him that I keep close to my heart.

It's been 8 months since my dad died and I'm still heartbroken. I miss him. Little signs that trigger memories of him make me happy & hurt so bad. I still find myself with tears streaming down my face thinking about my dad.

I see this quarter. I smile. I think of my dad. I cry because I miss him. And I continue to cry because it's such a big loss. In more ways than I could ever imagine when he was living. And I cry even harder because I still love him very much as my life continues without him.

I love you dad. And those 1976 quarters will always remind me of you. Thank you for that memory.

Memories of Dad that make me smile & cry

2010-10-31T11:27:00.000-07:00

I do a lot of thinking & remembering Dad when I'm driving by myself. Little random memories about him that make me smile and cry.

The time Dad bought an outrageously expensive "perfect" Christmas tree that I had my heart set on at the Christmas tree lot.
All the times Dad went with me to get my car serviced and tires changed. He didn't mind paying that $500 bill b/c he knew I would be safe on the street.
Dad telling me to relax and take a "snooze". (I tell my daughter to do the same. Just saying the word "snooze" reminds me of Dad.)
Falling asleep while watching the game with my dad. (Football, Baseball, Basketball, and yes even Bowling.)
Dad "the tooth fairy" kept all my baby teeth in his bathroom medicine cabinet.
Halloween's past when my dad would take us trick or treating and walk behind us kids, so we could be with our friends and have fun, yet he'd be there if any older kids tried to start trouble.
Dad always kept a room in his house for me, even years after I moved out and he purchased a different home that I had never lived in, so I could always have a room to come home to.

Epiphany

2010-10-24T21:19:00.000-07:00

Following my dad's death, I realized he was the piece that held my family together. It's strange how you can go your whole life consciously unaware of the obvious. It's only since my dad's death that this empty void remains, where once his presence was that connecting fibre.

Not only that, but my dad was the family historian. He always talked about the past and tried to tell me about our family, my ancestors. It's a shame I never wrote anything down. I went to visit my Uncle (my dad's younger brother) a month after the funeral and asked him some questions about our lineage and who was related to who and about sibling order, etc. I had a pen and pad in hand to jot everything down. Unfortunately I found out that part died with my dad. My Uncle said my dad was the one who knew and remembered all that stuff.

If there's any good to come out of all this, it's that I had an epiphany. I had been looking to other people in the family to be that connecting fibre, including my own mother. I was sorely disappointed. It was only in the process of my healing that I realized I didn't have to look anymore, because I had stepped up into that role in my own family, connecting the 3 of us - myself, my husband and my daughter.

And as for history, once my daughter is old enough to appreciate & take part, I would like to trace back and document a family tree/lineage for her on both sides of her family, so she will know where she came from.

Being prepared for my dad's death

2010-10-24T21:16:00.000-07:00

I had thought I was prepared for my dad's death. What I realized only recently was:

My head was prepared. My heart wasn't.

My child's deduction about getting old & death

2010-10-24T20:50:00.000-07:00

A couple months after my dad died, my 5 year old daughter told me she didn't want to grow up to be an adult; that she wanted to be a kid forever. When I asked her why, I was floored when she said, "Because if I grow up, you're going to get old and die just like Grandpa." She burst into tears. She told me she always wants to be with me.

We've had many discussions about how death is a natural part of the cycle of life. All living things die. Yet I also reassured her that I exercise and eat healthy and live healthy and do all the things I can to live as long as I can. That I want to see her grow up to become a woman, and to have my grandchildren and to see my great grandchildren grow up. I want to be around for as long I can be with her. And when I say that - I really want to be there for her.

My kid and I have a special bond. I hope that we will always be close. I try to be as honest as I can with her, about my beliefs, about life, and all the while letting her know I love her unconditionally and want the best for her. Of course I hope to be a really old woman when my end comes, yet even then there will be pain caused by my death.

I don't have all the answers. I'm just trying my best. When my time comes I can only hope that she'll know her mother loved her very much.

A found momento from my dad

2010-10-24T20:32:00.000-07:00

I was recently cleaning out the garage and in a bin with my records, I found a manila envelope addressed to me from my father, in his handwriting and return address printed on it. He must have sent me some auto insurance information years back to a former L.A. home address of mine.

My heart leapt when I saw his handwriting. Big printed letters, in all capital letters, in my dad's distinct handwriting. Tears swelled up in my eyes. I don't know why I kept the empty envelope, but it was like receiving a gift. Previous to this I had been searching for a past e-mail from my dad with no luck. I'd been so quick to delete or toss things out after reading them. This envelope I'd held onto for years. Just looking at his handwriting brought back so many memories of my dad.

I put the envelope aside, in a silver bowl for safe keeping while I continued to clean out the garage.

Later the envelope was gone. My housekeeper must have seen the empty envelope and thought it was trash, tossing it out with the garbage. For a split second I was sad, yet I realized such is life. It was tragic and comical. Life happens. Stuff gets tossed out by mistake. She couldn't have known what that envelope meant to me. And life does go on regardless if we're ready or not.

My dad appeared in a dream

2010-10-03T21:16:00.000-07:00

My dad finally appeared in a dream of mine, nearly 3 months after his death. I've heard from others that when a loved one appears in your dream it can be comforting. Then again, my mom dreamt of my dad constantly after he died and she was afraid. In her dreams he was laughing and joking and she thought somehow he was going to pull her to the other side.

Luckily in my dream it was a positive one. My dad appeared to me in my dream as a ghost. I knew that he had died. I cried. We held hands.

I woke up and immediately told my husband I dreamt of my dad. When he asked me what happened in the dream, I was still groggy and answered, "It's complicated."

I was so happy to see him, even if he was just a ghost. The loss of my father has been devastating. Life must go on and I have a husband and small child to take care of, as well as a new job. Yet, I still cry everyday. The pain is still very much present. So in a strange way, the dream gave me some comfort.

Glimpses of my Dad

2010-10-03T18:39:00.000-07:00

Photographs are all I have left of my dad. So when I find glimpses of my dad in photos, my heart swells with happiness at the discovery, yet I find tears streaming down my face and I'm so grief-stricken that he's gone and the way he went out. Sick, confused, and bedridden in a hospital.
Some of those finds include this photo above taken at Astrid's 1st birthday party at my home, where my dad is standing with us, happy & laughing. It wasn't a keeper since one of the paintings in the background is hanging askew. But crooked painting be damned; when I discovered the photo today my heart leapt...."look it's my dad! And he's so happy!", followed by endless tears.

The last time I saw my dad alive there was no joy, there was no laughter, he wasn't even able to speak to me. Then the very next time I saw him he was dead. So the last images I have of my dad are those last days in the hospital hooked up to tubes. I'm haunted by those memories and of the memory of him in the morgue when I rushed to the hospital to see him.

So when I see photos of him alive in his 70's...looking like my dad...alive...it is such a find. We didn't take lots of photos of my dad. Only now can I see that we didn't take that many photos of him, because he was overweight. Towards the end he had lost a lot of weight, but then he looked sick. So there's a dearth of photos of him.

Going through my photos I've found my dad captured in photos unintentionally. He appears in one that I took of Astrid riding her scooter on the sidewalk in front of my parents' house and my dad is standing in the distance holding his cane in one hand and his pants in the other. This was when he was getting treatments for his bladder cancer and was losing a lot of weight. He had to constantly hold up his pants. In another one, my mom is playing with Astrid in front of a mirror and my dad is captured sitting in a chair to the side. My heart hurts so bad & yet I am so happy to see my dad alive.

There was a vitality to him even when he was overweight and sick. I try to hold onto those memories and block out the painful ones of him dying. The overwhelming urge that comes over me when I see my dad in photos, is that I need to hug him. I wish I had given him more hugs when he was alive. He was a good hugger, and I loved him so much.

Glasses

2010-08-22T09:13:00.000-07:00

I've been wearing glasses since my dad died. The act of putting them on, seeing through them, cleaning them, taking them off - all reminds me of my dad. My dad wore glasses everyday of his life since he was a teenager. He only took them off to sleep, shower, swim, or read. I was constantly cleaning his glasses. There's nothing worse than dirty lenses with smudges on them. And it was one of the few things I could do for him in the hospital to make sure he could see.

I've been a contact lens wearer for years. I'm nearsighted just like my dad. I can see fine up close by everything is blurry far away. I used to only wear my glasses at night. Yet I started wearing glasses during the day when my eyes were getting dry (computer, crying, late nights at the hospital) and it was just way more convenient. No hassle of saline solution to clean them and store them and take them out & put them in twice a day. Since my dad's death I've continued to wear my glasses everyday.

After my dad died, my mom brought some of his belongings to the funeral home, including his glasses. When I saw his glasses (that were tagged with his name) I burst into tears. They so reminded me on him. He always had them on. Seeing them on the table meant he was dead and wouldn't be needing them anymore. My mom asked the funeral Director what her opinion was on burying my dad with his glasses on. She replied, "Did he wear glasses all the time? Well then it wouldn't look like him if he weren't wearing them." At his viewing he was wearing his glasses & he looked like himself...my dad.

I remember the sound of the clink his glasses made when he took them off & put them on the nightstand before reading a book or going to sleep. When I hear the same clink when I set my glasses down I think of my dad.

It's a memory that comforts me. It keeps his memory alive.

I'm getting ready to drive out to Riverside National Cemetery today to visit my dad's grave. I'll be wearing my glasses and thinking of him.

Homeopathic Bath Remedy

2010-08-09T00:23:00.000-07:00

A massage therapist gave me a tip for a homeopathic bathing remedy. No surprise I've got a twinge in my neck & my body is all out of whack. I tried it. It's great. I'm hooked.

Here's the recipe...

Ingredients:
16 oz box of baking soda (pour entire contents into tub)
fill the same box with Epsom salts (pour into the tub)
Fill the bathtub with the hottest water you can withstand just enough to cover your knees
Sit it the water for a bit until you get used to the temperature & then fill the bathtub the rest of the way.
Soak your entire body from the tip of your head to your toes.
Massage those areas where you have pain & are sore.
Afterward don't rinse off - just towel dry lightly & let the salt continue to work it's magic.

So refreshing! It took away a lot of the aches & pains (at least temporarily). Especially the feet which wasn't even on my radar. Wearing high heels all day even in the most comfortable shoes gives you sore feet. After this bath potion, my feet felt great! Plus it's a natural deodorant. No chemicals - just super clean & fresh.

The first time I tried it the water was all cloudy. He said to expect this from the toxins leaving the body. Every time since the water has been clear. And he recommended stretching in the bath & massaging away those knots & getting into the muscle.

Super easy & it helps.

Thinking of you everyday Dad

2010-07-28T16:56:00.001-07:00

Dad,

There are so many things I wish I would have said & done. So many things left unsaid. I tried. I really did. When you were alive and I went to visit you on Mondays, over the course of 3 1/2 years I tried to open my heart & tell you how much you meant to me. But it was difficult. Astrid was there with us and the baby needed attention. Lots of interruptions in our conversation ensued. The Alzheimer's took you away a lot of the time & conversations weren't always possible. That would make me so sad. Not wanting to talk about death. Focusing on the present. Trying to deal with the situation & all the stress. On top of that I'm my father's daughter and peeling back all the layers to expose vulnerability is difficult for me.

The doctors kept telling us you were going to die soon. Everyone in the family was in denial, except me. And that tremendous burden was so heavy on me. I'm not complaining. What you went through was so terrible & I wanted so badly to alleviate all of your suffering. I convinced mom that she should tell you that you were dying. It was done out of love.

In the hospital, one day when you were clear headed, Mom and I were on either side of your bed, holding your hands. We didn't know how long the fog would be lifted. We both in our own way told you what was happening and that you would die soon. I'm so glad that we had that conversation with you. We wanted to know your last wishes. We wanted you to share your heart with us. I keep hearing you say, "We just need to get a better doctor." Every time I think about that I burst into tears. It hurts my heart so much because the doctors couldn't do anything for you & all the doctors told us to start preparing for your imminent death. Then you said, "I'm not ready yet. I don't want to say anything that will embarrass myself." Fuck. You were so strong. You were the strongest man I've ever met. You were a different generation. In the end you told us all you wanted was for your family to be there. Mom and I were both bawling our eyes out. I told you how much I appreciated you. I'm so glad I got to tell you while you were alive and mentally there. You heard me and I know it touched your heart. When mom told you to tell me you loved me...I said you didn't have to b/c I already knew. I've always known you loved me dad. There was never any question of that.

You always told me that your dad never told you that he loved you until you were in your late 40's. As tough & old school of a guy you were - that caused you a lot of pain & you never wanted your kid to grow up feeling unloved. So you would tell me - "You know I love you right?" you'd say. "Yes, Dad. I know." I'd say. I'm sure this was accompanied by some eye rolling in my preteen years. And you'd tell me the story of your dad and how you didn't want to make that same mistake.

You gave me unconditional love. You were the first man I ever loved. What a gift to have a father like you who thought the world of me. Growing up you always told me I could do & be whatever I wanted, except be the President of the United States (since I wasn't born in the U.S.), but you didn't think I would want that anyway. And you were right. You gave me self confidence. How I appreciate all those intangibles you instilled in me. It shows in my relationships with others. It shows in my outlook on the world. It shows in my work ethic. It shows in my marriage. It shows in my parenthood.

Not a day goes by that I don't think about you. When I look at my daughter I think of you and want to instill that self confidence and strong foundation you gave me. When I see my husband & daughter together, I think of you. Even when they struggle & have a battle of wills it reminds me of you and I. You raised me to be a strong woman & I'm striving to do the same for my child. I appreciate your life even more.

I miss you so much Dad. It's all about love. I love you & I always knew you loved me.

Sunshine through tall trees

2010-07-28T16:52:00.000-07:00

A coworker gave me a sympathy card with a beautiful photo of sunlight streaming in through tall trees in a forest. It reminds me of the forests of Germany. I cried when I saw it. It wasn't a generic sympathy card. My coworker has traveled the world and has a good taste. It shows in his bereavement card. I have the card hanging on my wall. It gives me strength when I look at it. Tomorrow is another day. I will make it a good one.

Thoughts of the day

2010-07-27T11:31:00.000-07:00

I'm back at work today, yet my mind is miles away. My heart is still heavy. My mind drifts to thoughts of my dad. Tears spring easily to my eyes. I feel like an injured animal limping along. Still so raw with emotion...

My husband responded:
Grieving takes a lot of time. Always remember: death leaves a heartache no can can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.

Anguish

2010-07-23T02:24:00.000-07:00

–noun

excruciating or acute distress, suffering, or pain: the anguish of grief.

–verb

to suffer, feel, or exhibit anguish: to anguish over the loss of a loved one.

An Emotional Day

2010-07-23T00:59:00.000-07:00

It's been an emotional day. Lots of tears. Been thinking a lot of my dad.

When I got sick, a friend told me she was glad my body felt safe enough to get sick. Wise words from a Yogi (and friend who has been there for me since my dad's death). She's right; there was too much to do & no time to get sick. Everything is over now. It's just me and my thoughts.

I keep thinking of my dad's hands. He had these amazing hands. His large palms were thick & calloused from hard labor. I received lots of spankings from those hands. I watched those hands work with tools - a wrench, a screwdriver. I can see his hands being dirty after working on the car, or plumbing, or whatever it was he had just finished fixing. I can see him washing his hands in the sink afterward to get them clean again. I can see his hands typing with one finger. I held those hands so many times. As a kid they gave me great comfort. They made me feel safe. As an adult I held those hands to let my dad know everything would be okay, when there were no words to express the moment, to let him know I was there by his side & to express my love.

In a High School graduation photo, standing next to my dad I realized for the first time that our hands were similar in shape, mine being the female equivalent. My brother reminded me of this recently and it made me feel close to my dad.

Lots of thoughts of my dad. Like the "goulash" he would make, which has no resemblance to any goulash I've eaten in my life. It consisted of ground hamburger, a can of corn, and ketchup, all mixed in a frying pan. I could go for some of that goulash right about now. He also taught me how to make grilled cheese sandwiches. So many memories.

My dad's death has given me a good kick in the butt. I will be a better parent, wife, friend, human being as a result. I will not shy away from opportunities. I will tell my loved ones how much I love them everyday. Life is too short.

Helping Astrid deal with her grief

2010-07-22T19:03:00.001-07:00

My 5 year old daughter still cries for her Grandpa and misses him. It breaks my heart. It's difficult enough for me, her mother, to understand death. I understand it physically but am still dealing with my own emotions surrounding it. For a 5 year old, it must be even more difficult for her to comprehend.

Today she told me she wants to have a picture of Grandpa in her room. After my dad died, my brother and I poured through photo albums longing to reconnect with my dad. She's at that stage too where she wants to hold onto memories of him. Missing him and wanting to be with him in whatever way possible, even if it is just through memories.

My husband and I discussed it tonight and think it would be nice to frame a photo of my dad for Astrid to hang in her room. We'd all feel a little closer to him that way.

Still thinking of you

2010-07-22T18:41:00.001-07:00

Dad,
I was in the pharmacy today. All of the stress finally caught up with me and I came down with the flu & a really bad infection of my tonsils. So as I'm waiting for the Pharmacist to fill my prescription, I started looking around at all the orthopedic devices and aides. I caught myself thinking about what I could get you. What would you need? What would help you?

I remember when I bought you your cane. A similar thought, different day - "My dad could really use a cane like that." And you loved that cane with the padded handle. I was afraid that with your Alzheimer's you wouldn't remember it, instead remembering your old cane, but for whatever reason you only remembered that new black cane I bought for you. "This is a good cane," you said. You always kept it by your side and it was the first thing you looked for when you woke up from a nap. That made me feel really good. That I could do something for you. That I could help you in some small way with all that you were going through.

Today I was standing there, staring up at the orthopedic devices with tears in my eyes. There's nothing I can do for you. That makes me really sad. You will always be my dad. I will always be your daughter. And I will always love you.

A lock of your hair

2010-07-14T05:31:00.000-07:00

Huddled around the table in the funeral home, when asked if we wanted a lock of your hair, the three of us looked at each other and Bernard Jr. said, "He didn't have any hair." Then my mom said "No. What for?" And I got choked with emotion and said "Yes, I want it."

The funeral director crossed out "0" and wrote in "1" on the request form for the mortuary.

My brother was right, my dad didn't have much hair. He had a little crown of hair, Julius Cesar style, which my mom kept short. Because of this I kept picturing my dad with a bald spot on the back of his head where they'd most likely shave it to give me a lock of his hair.

They presented it to my mom today at the viewing and she gave it to me. "Here's your dad's hair that you wanted," she said. Looking at it later back at the house that evening, I saw that they did NOT shave it. It was just a messy cutting with hair spilling out of a tiny plastic bag, glued to a piece of paper with his name on it, presented by Inland Memorial.

I'm glad that I asked for it. It's good to know that if I ever need genetic testing done they won't have to exume the body, since I have his DNA via his hair clippings. And on a more emotional level it's just a small momento of him. Something that no one else wanted but me.

50's music reminds me of you dad

2010-07-12T11:28:00.000-07:00

Dad,
I've found myself listening to a lot of 50's music after your death. It reminds me of you. You graduated from high school in 1952. It was a simpler time when you were young and healthy. You had your whole life ahead of you. I used to turn to the 50's radio channel for you when you were in the car with me, driving to your doctors appointments, hoping it would trigger a fond memory of your past. Bernard Jr. & I recently went through your old high school yearbooks looking at all the vintage photos. The 1950's era makes me think of you & all the promise your life held. Thinking of you young & healthy, rather than old & sick.

Your funeral is tomorrow

2010-07-12T10:51:00.000-07:00

Dad,
Your funeral is tomorrow. The earliest day/time we could reserve with the National Cemetery in Riverside is tomorrow at 11:45 AM. We're able to have your viewing earlier that day to have both on one day. After the ceremony friends & family will meet at Mission Inn Restaurant in Riverside. It's a beautiful location that I would have loved to have taken you to when you were alive. I hope you will be there with us in spirit feeling our love for you & overhearing all the nice things people will be saying about you.

I'm looking forward to it & at the same time dreading all the same things:
*Seeing you for the last time
*Seeing relatives I haven't seen since the last funeral or my wedding 9 years ago
*Helping my daughter to understand your death & the celebration we will be having to honor your life
*You being placed in the ground, your last resting place

The funeral is supposed to give me closure. I doubt it will give me that.

Right now I'm dealing with all the final details - contacting family & friends who will be attending the funeral, buying navy blue dresses for your granddaughters, picking up dry cleaning. All those mundane things.

I'm also going over to your house today to spend time with Mom & Bernard, Jr. I stumbled when I tried to tell Astrid where we were going today. When you were alive I always referred to your home as "Grandpa's house" or "Grandma & Grandpa's house." Today I referred to it as "Grandma's house" and Astrid corrected me - "You mean Grandma AND Grandpa's house," she said. I told her it was now "Grandma's house" since you're no longer with us. But I still feel like it's your house. Tears well up in my eyes when I think of all the memories in that house, and I can still see your clothes and hat hanging from the rack waiting for you to return.

Looking for an e-mail from you

2010-07-12T10:25:00.000-07:00

Dad,
I went through my inbox today looking for an e-mail from you. The last time you e-mailed me was over 4 years ago, before the Alzheimer's interfered with your ability to use the computer. Your e-mail address was bmhook@juno.com. I remember you used to type in all caps and your e-mails were brief. How I long to read one of those e-mails again. Usually it was a photo of Astrid I sent you, or maybe a joke or something. You'd print out photos of Astrid & post them on your office wall. When you'd respond back you'd always end your e-mails by telling me you loved me. So sad I could not find one. I must have deleted them after reading them years ago, not knowing how one day I would long to get an e-mail from you.

I love you dad.

A good day with dad (I'd give anything for one more day with you)

2010-07-11T02:33:00.000-07:00

Dad,
You passed away on Sunday, July 4, 2010, a week ago. Your viewing & funeral will take place on Tuesday, July 13, 2010, the first available date for burial in the National Cemetery. It gives me some comfort to know I will see you one last time in your uniform with your medals and ribbons, before you are buried. And I know you would get a kick out of the taps style military funeral you will receive at the National Cemetery. Yet, my heart aches to go back in time and spend one more good day with you.

I tried to describe my longing to U. and he told me that all of us want to have that last conversation. While that would be nice, to be able to say all the things to you that I wasn't able to; I know you know that I loved you very much. You knew ever since I was a kid that I adored you. I know you loved me too. When you were diagnosed with Alzheimer's over 3 years ago and your memory was failing, you didn't have to ask -I was there spending every Monday with you, bringing Astrid with me. "Remember I visit you every Monday Dad." When you were diagnosed with bladder cancer I took you to your doctors appointments, to radiation, and tried my best to care for you. God damn I miss those Mondays. I didn't know how good I had it, to be able to spend so much time with you. And at the end when you were in the hospital, I tried my best to care for you with warm blankets to keep you warm and held your hand.

What I'm really longing for is just one more summer day with you when you were able to sit outside in the backyard with me, watching your granddaughter swim in the baby pool. I wouldn't have to say a thing. I just want to spend the day with you. Hear your voice. Hear you laugh. Feel your warm bear hug. Smell your Old Spice. See the light in your eyes as they shine with happiness at spending an ordinary sunny day with your daughter & granddaughter.

You used to sneak over to my place after Astrid was born. I had flashbacks when I saw you feeding her, as you used to feed me as a child. The air conditioning didn't work well & the house would be hot as an oven during the summer, yet you didn't mind. You just loved sitting with me, shooting the breeze, watching your granddaughter.

You came over to celebrate Astrid's 1st birthday and cracked a joke that she made a good Korean in her costume. You also told me I looked pretty that day. I was the apple of your eye and your favorite I know. It hurts so much to not have you here cracking jokes. Today I'd happily even listen to your bad jokes, or ones that I'd heard hundreds of times. You had such a larger than life personality, it's still hard to fathom that you're gone.

In the photo above you're telling Astrid you love her "This much!".
I would bring Astrid over every Monday and we would spend the day together. Here you are reading to her. Christmas of 2008 I put together a Kodak photo album for you with this and other photos of you and Astrid together so that you would remember her. Now she remembers you. She misses you and still cries sometimes.

While driving in the car the other day after your death Astrid had this thought, "Oh no mom! Who are we going to have lunch with on Mondays now?" It was such a big part of our life. No matter how bad you were feeling, you somehow rallied, got dressed and went to lunch with us. Even when your feet were so swollen you couldn't wear your shoes, you put on open toed sandals and went with us. Usually it was our favorite Vietnamese restaurant next to Stater Bros. You loved their grilled chicken, accompanied with a diet Pepsi to drink. I went there the other day with mom & Bernard and I couldn't shake the feeling that you should have been there with us.
This is the kind of summer day I would give anything to have with you. You're sitting out in the backyard leaning against your cane, watching Astrid who is playing with Cathy. Gosh how I miss those days. Mondays were for you. Unfortunately you died on a Sunday, the day before I was supposed to spend the entire day with you. That still hurts my heart so much.

A friend told me that my grief & how much my heart longs to be with you again, is a testament to how much you were loved.

You had children late in life with me & Bernard being your miracle babies. Looking at these photos, reminds me how fortunate I was to have you in my life for 36 years.

I love you & miss you Dad.

Support & Grief

2010-07-11T01:05:00.000-07:00

When something terrible happens - a crisis, a death, an illness - you need support from others. A friend of mine whose son had a terrible accident & almost died and also went through the painful experience of caring for her mother who died of cancer - said that she now knows what to do. I feel the same way now. I didn't used to know what to do or say or how to support others going through a crisis, tragedy, loss, etc. Now having gone through it myself with the death of my father, I know what to do. I'll be there. I'll come over. I'll give support & speak from my heart.

The day after my dad died was a holiday. Everything was closed, including the funeral home. I felt so useless. There was nothing I could do. I had to sit and wait. I cried & cried until I thought I had no tears left. I didn't know what to do. A friend came over that day to sit with me. She brought flowers and gave me a big hug. It was so good to have her over. If it weren't for her I would have been staring out in space all day, alone with my grief. She was there for me. I cannot thank her enough. It meant so much to me.

Also, kindness from strangers - I'm FB friends with the sister & mom of a boy I went to school with. I've never met them. Yet they poured their hearts out to me sharing their experiences with the loss of their father and are coming to the funeral to support me. This was completely unexpected, yet welcomed. The mom wrote me and said I probably wouldn't recognize them at the funeral, yet they'd be there with their hearts waving at me. I was so touched.

Phone calls, texts, offers to buy groceries/do laundry, even one friend I haven't seen in ages, invited me & my family up to his 15 acre ranch for the weekend. I happily took him up on his offer. It will be great to get away.

Then there are those friends you thought for sure would be there and there's only deafening silence. Disappointing. Yet, luckily the people who come out of the woodwork tip the scales to offer their support with so many pleasant surprises.

Tips:
1) If you knew the deceased, share a nice memory. It gives so much comfort to the loved one who is grieving (rather than just "sorry for your loss").
2) Show up. Many ppl think they should leave the grieving person alone since they have a lot to deal with. Here's a fact: NO one wants to be alone when they're grieving. Just having a friend there to talk to helps so much.
3) Check in. Let them know you are thinking of them.
4) Share your experience. If you've lost your father - share that with a friend who experiencing the same loss.
5) Be there for the person & let the person grieve. The last thing a grieving person needs are reminders that the world is moving on so quickly after a recent death of a loved one.
6) Show genuine interest & concern. It's not a time to share the latest & greatest happening in your life, expecting the grieving person to be happy for you. You can chat about that later. It may come from a good place, yet is so inappropriate. A grieving person is overwhelmed with emotion, pain & loss. My husband referred to me as a clown "Trying to keep up the smile, but with great sadness underneath." Acknowledge the sadness.

Today I ran for the first time since my dad died

2010-07-11T00:07:00.000-07:00

My dad had a long battle with his health and various illnesses. There's a long list, yet in the end it was Alzheimer's and bladder cancer.

I took up running as a positive way to deal with the stress. Beginning 1/1/2010 I started training for a triathlon. The running portion of the mini-tri at Hanson Dam in August is 3 miles. For me a non-runner, a 3 mile run seemed unattainable. I could barely run half a mile. After a few months I felt ready to attempt a run around the Rose Bowl which is a 3.12 mile run. This route was something I had attempted to run around in the past & always had to stop after about a mile with a sharp pain in my side, and had to walk the rest. My goal was to continue running around the Rose Bowl without stopping, to complete the loop. I was prepared for disappointment. If I couldn't do it, I'd head right back to the gym & hit the treadmill. Yet what was so funny was I completed the loop, saw my car where I had started the run and thought, "Is that it?" My body was ready to run another mile. In my mind the distance was so much farther. That gave me a lot of confidence. I could do it!

I started to love running. Running around the Rose Bowl was a piece of cake. When traveling to Europe in May I ran through the forests in Germany for 4.5 miles. A friend referred to me as a "runner", which was the ultimate compliment. I started thinking about running more outdoors, and which running paths had the nicest views, etc.

So I continued to run and bike, 3 times a week (with Yoga on Sundays) and kept up with it for 6+ months. I had just started the swimming portion of the training, when my dad passed away on 7/4/2010. I stopped running. I stopped training. I didn't even think about running.

Until my husband said, "You need to start running again. It's good for your body & your head," tapping his temple on the side of his head.

So yesterday I attempted to run again for the first time since my dad died. My dad died on Sunday so 6 days after his death. I put on my headphones like usual, and got my heart rate up & legs pumping. As I was running I thought of my dad and my body started sobbing. I felt like I was literally crying out of every single pore of my body. I barely made it to 2 miles. My pulse was over 190. Someone once told me 180 was cardiac arrest.

Will I continue running? I don't know. It was such a help to deal with the stress of his illness & all the worry with his health worsening & caring for him. Now that he's dead I don't know if I want to keep running. I would love to think that I'd continue running & see the benefits. Who knows. Maybe I'll be like Forest Gump and hang up my sneakers. Or maybe I'll take up something new like kick boxing or something to get out all my frustration & anger. I don't know. I just know it was really sad to run again today. Afterward my face was the reddest I've ever seen it. I just kept thinking of my dad & how he's gone forever.

Gravestone inscription

2010-07-10T23:41:00.000-07:00

I've been tasked with my dad's gravestone inscription. Actually I volunteered for this. I envisioned writing something unique & personal that would set my dad's gravestone apart from everyone else's in the cemetery. Problem is, I'm limited to 22 spaces.

How do you sum up your dad's life & your love for him in 22 spaces? Examples given on the form from Riverside National Cemetery include: 1) Forever in our hearts, and 2) Mom & Dad loved by all.

I've spent the last few days wracking my brain trying to think of something personal to write. At first my dilemma was - How do I put into words how much my dad, the first man I ever loved meant to me? The last thing I want is a generic saying. When leaving the funeral home (with form in hand) my brother said to me, "You can write it. I trust you. Just as long as it mentions husband, dad & grandpa I'll be happy." He & my mom gave me their blessing to write whatever I wanted, without having to get their final approval on it. Reiterate - problem is I am limited to 22 spaces! That doesn't allow for much creativity. "Husband, Dad & grandpa" is 22 characters alone.

So here is what I came up with:

Loved Yobo/Dad/Grandpa

Yobo is Korean for "spouse". My mom & dad referred to each other as "Yobo" throughout their almost 40 years of marriage. When I hear my mom mention "Yobo" I immediately think of my dad.

Although it saddens me that I can't put more words down - at least it's unique to my dad. He was married to a Korean woman (my mom), lived in Korea while stationed in the Air Force, and had 2 Amerasian children. The Yobo is a tribute to my mom as well, acknowledging her influence in his life.

I think my dad would understand and he'd love the "Yobo" reference.

Goodbye Facebook & hello again blog

2010-07-10T22:57:00.000-07:00

After my dad passed away on the 4th of July, 2010 I was so filled with sadness & grief and longing to reconnect with him (still am) that I took to Facebook and wrote about his passing & posted some old vintage photos of him. I asked my husband, "Is it too much? Or okay?" He responded that it was just fine. Yet after a few posts he said to me, "You may want to start blogging again. People don't know how to respond to grief and anyway Facebook should be kept light."

So here I am back to my blog away from home. I hope that blogging will help me through my grief, both in mourning the loss of my dad's life & sharing my experience with others. No one knows how painful it is to lose a parent, until it happens to you. No amount of preparation can prepare you for the pain you will experience when it happens. As my husband describes it, "It's like getting kicked in the balls." It brings you to your knees emotionally.

So as I feel the need to get things off my chest, I will be blogging away. In essence resurrecting this blog. I'll continue to post on FB with more lighthearted material like pics of my daughter & what events I'm attending. Friends can click on the "like" button and see what I'm up to. Blogging will be more cathartic in nature, helping me speak from my soul, so that only those interested in reading it can, and those who would rather not be bothered, won't be.

Bernard M. Hook, Sr. Memorial Fund

2010-07-10T22:46:00.000-07:00

My father, Bernard M. Hook, Sr. (1934-2010), was a Shriner for many decades. The charity work he did for children was something he felt really good about. After retiring he volunteered as a Shriners Clown, making children smile with balloon animals, stickers & warm hugs.

In his loving memory, my family is asking that in lieu of flowers, donations be made in his name to the Shriners Hospital for Children to continue his philanthropic work to make a difference in the lives of children.

Below is a link to his memorial page to make an online contribution.

http://support.shrinershospitals.org/site/TR/Events/General?pg=fund&fr_id=1030&pxfid=1920

Thank you.

Happy birthday Dad. You would have been 76!

2010-07-08T23:01:00.000-07:00

Dad,
You died 4 days before your 76th birthday. We had hoped you would hang in there to turn 76, yet it was your time to go on the 4th of July 2010, shortly before 4 PM. Watching the fireworks will never be the same for me.

To honor your memory, I had the family over today at my house for a bbq. Me, U., Mom, Bernard Jr. and both of your grand daughters. U. grilled a small feast. We shared memories of you, ate, drank and U. gave a toast to you while mom shouted up to the sky, "Happy Birthday Yobo".

We miss you. We love you. You are in our hearts forever.

Funeral for Bernard Hook

2010-07-08T00:42:00.000-07:00

My dad will have a military funeral ceremony at the National Cemetery in Riverside, with full honors. Friends are welcome to attend.

Details:
Tuesday 7/13/2010
11:45 AM
Riverside National Cemetery - Stage 4
22495 Van Buren Blvd.
Riverside, CA 92518

My dad's military ribbons & medals

2010-07-07T03:40:00.000-07:00

My dad served in the U.S. Air Force for 20+ years & retired honorably as a Master Sergeant. My family decided that he should be buried in his full military uniform with his ribbons on his jacket & medals displayed in his coffin.

My dad's ribbons awarded over his 20+ year career in the Air Force.

Some of my dad's military medals.

Miss being by your side dad

2010-07-07T03:35:00.000-07:00

Dad, you've been gone just 2 days & I'm longing to connect with you & to keep memories of you close to my heart. Looking through old photos I found this one of you & I on a camping trip long ago at the lake. I remember how much you loved to go fishing. As a kid & as an adult, I loved being by your side.
I miss you Dad.

My dad young, healthy & handsome - RIP

2010-07-06T00:45:00.000-07:00

My dad, Bernard M. Hook, Sr. dressed in his U.S. Air Force fatigues.
Young, healthy & handsome.
1934-2010. RIP

Dream a little dream for me

2010-07-05T01:54:00.000-07:00

Dad, remembering how you grilled the best bbq chicken on 4th of July's past, adding your secret ingredient...beer. Wish you could have seen the fireworks one last time. I saw them exploding in the sky all around the hospital. Feels surreal that you're gone. Love you so much. Sweet dreams.

Dad's passing on the 4th of July 2010

2010-07-04T21:27:00.000-07:00

My dad passed away today. He was the toughest guy that I've ever known. He will be missed terribly. I have so much love for him & I will always be Daddy's little girl.

As Tears Go By

2010-07-01T22:18:00.000-07:00

Heartfelt favorite of mine. How the world can continue to go on as usual while my loved one is dying is something I'm grappling with.

Peace on Earth 2009

2009-12-21T00:29:00.001-08:00

Burning Man 2009

2009-09-14T09:10:00.000-07:00

My first Burning Man experience. After 10 years of wanting to go, I finally went this year with my husband. So glad I did. It was a wonderful experience.

Lots of preparation goes into Burning Man since you have to be 100% self-reliant - bring all your food, water, shelter, first-aide.We rented and drove this RV through the desert from El Monte RV - a burner friendly RV company - to Black Rock Desert in Nevada. Me and my baby. I drove it through the desert, the windy passes, and even up the narrow streets and hills up to my house afterwards and parked it right in front of my house. Something my husband thought would be impossible. So I did the impossible.Heading towards the entrance - excitement ramps up as we see other burners & we know we're close after driving for hours through the desert.We have arrived. The infamous fence around the perimeter we'd read so much about. Quite a feat considering how large the event is.Me driving the RV. A 1st for me & I loved it. So glad we took the scenic route.Uwe ringing the Playa Virgin bell & declaring himself a Citizen of Black Rock City.

Greeters at the gate meet individually with each and every person who arrives. Nice personal touch. Anyone whose first time it is at Burning Man is called a Playa Virgin and an initiation is in order.

We heard from other Playa Virgins that they were made to lay in Playa dust and make sand angels on their backs & stomachs. Our greeter was nice & just had us ring a bell and gave us big hugs (although he got so excited to meet virgins that he forgot to give us the printed schedule).

We felt welcome from the start.

We found a great spot on the corner to setup camp. Great vantage point to see all the lit up art cars as they drove by.

This was one of my fav's - a house. People were sitting inside drinking tea. Love the idea!

A lit up fish art car.

You could hear the art cars coming before you actually saw them. They were booming with music. I'd run to get my camera in anticipation of the next cool art car to appear before my eyes. Felt like Alice in Wonderland. So much fun! Thunderdome! Just like the movie Mad Max.

Yes, there was a tournament going on inside, but the human bodies swarming all over the outer metal dome was the most fascinating part.

Woman holding fire. Beautiful.The eternal flame they keep going for the burning of the Man on Saturday.

Someone loves their mom.

One person stands inside this spinning cylinder with thousands of led lights.

You can't help smiling when you see the grin on the face of the person inside.

One guy who experienced it asked, "Am I still alive?" Our first glimpse of the Man.Two Playa Virgins. A panoramic view of the Man. The Opulent Temple. This year it's the "temple of forgiveness" with four entrance halls, intricately carved wood, multiple floors and a central altar that opens to the sky.

It's hard to believe this also goes up in flames. They burn the temple on Sunday.

A true 3D interactive Rubics Cube, with 4 players.We knew we were getting close to our camp when we'd see this sign. Love it. Self-reliance is a big part of it, although the kindness of strangers is amazing out on the playa. People fed me and gave me drinks & good company. Uwe and I chillin' at our camp.

Our neighbor was a guy from Wisconsin fluent in German. We met all kinds of interesting people out on the playa. Got painted with friends I met at camp - Jeremy & Taylor.

Daytime wandering around was such a fun adventure. Everyday there was something new to discover.

Bronze sculpture in Center Camp.Another sculpture in Center Camp.

Having a chai latte in Center Camp was a little bit of home & felt like such a luxury. This experience makes you realize how much we take for granted in our daily lives.

Uwe's favorite interactive exhibit. The phantom you see is Uwe jumping to another colored circle. He said he could have done that for hours it was so much fun. Each time you step on a circle, it turns a different color.

It was fun to watch him be a kid again.

A couch swing. So comfy!
Uwe wearing his burner gear: head lamp, goggles, dust mask.Our camp was directly across from the Barbie Death Camp. Where else can you have a death camp and a wine bistro?A mirage in the middle of the desert - a Buddhist Temple.

Couldn't resist taking a photo with my pink, Chinese parasol.

Freshly squeezed OJ.

I met this fellow with the same tin camping cup, although his made mine look like a baby cup.

The Playa at night. The Man burning.
A crowd of 40,000 people all sat down in cooperation so that everyone could see the man burn. That blew my mind. Oh the possibilities!Even after the nuclear explosion that nearly melted my face, the man stood for a long time before finally succumbing to the fire.

Burning Man was an incredible, life changing experience. It was so much more than I expected. Everyone should experience it at least once in their life.

President Obama's statement on Iran

2009-06-21T00:55:00.000-07:00

"The Iranian government must understand that the world is watching. We mourn each and every innocent life that is lost. We call on the Iranian government to stop all violent and unjust actions against its own people. The universal rights to assembly and free speech must be respected, and the United States stands with all who seek to exercise those rights.

As I said in Cairo, suppressing ideas never succeeds in making them go away. The Iranian people will ultimately judge the actions of their own government. If the Iranian government seeks the respect of the international community, it must respect the dignity of its own people and govern through consent, not coercion.

Martin Luther King once said – “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” I believe that. The international community believes that. And right now, we are bearing witness to the Iranian peoples’ belief in that truth, and we will continue to bear witness."

The Circus is in town!

2009-05-17T13:44:00.000-07:00

Circus Vargas 2009
http://www.circusvargas.org

I haven't been to the Big Top in eons (Cirque du Soleil doesn't count - I'm talking a real circus), so I'm excited about taking my little one to see it today. They have a special interactive pre-show for the kids as well. Tickets are a bit pricey, but it depends on the section seats you purchase.

Strawberry Festival in Oxnard, CA

2009-05-16T21:09:00.000-07:00

The 26th Annual Strawberry Festival is happening this weekend - May 16 & 17 in Oxnard.

Strawberry Festival Info:
Strawberry Meadows of College Park
3250 South Rose Avenue
Oxnard, CA
1-888-288-9242
http://www.strawberry-fest.org/

I took my 4 year old daughter today and we had a great time. Kids 4 years old and under are free. Plus all of the rides and shows inside are free.

They do a great job catering to kids with a merry go round, a choo choo train, face painting, shows for kids (magician, clowns, music), and a scarier swinging boat ride for older kids. Bales of hay all around for sitting and enjoying strawberries.

Ticket Prices:
Adult admission = $12

Seniors (62+) = $8

Youths (5-12) = $5

Active military and dependents with ID = $8

Children 4 and under are FREE.

Upside:
Of course the strawberries! Including strawberry: beer, champagne, nachos, a build your own strawberry shortcake, etc.

Downside:
The long lines for everything. Last year they had 60,000 visitors and they're expecting even more this year. So expect long lines especially at the food booths. Some of the booths also sold out.

Tips:

Although it was hot in LA, it was fairly chilly in Oxnard with the cloud cover. So bring a thin jacket or sweater.
Take the 118 fwy. Do NOT take the 101 unless you love sitting in bumper to bumper traffic.
Park on the outskirts and walk in. I made the mistake of parking in the parking lot. It took an hour to go less than a mile to finally park. Once you get stuck in the Que - it's impossible to get out. Don't make the same mistake!
The website went down the morning of the festival - I guess too many ppl were accessing it - so make sure you get all the info you need the day before. Or you can call the toll free number I have above for the recorded information message.

Click here to see more photos of us.

My Mother's Day Gift

2009-05-10T23:16:00.000-07:00

U. got me this original print by @gapingvoid for Mother's Day. How true this statement is! As soon as we get it framed, we're going to hang it up so we can see it everyday.

The key is to find other lone wolves. =)

The Joy of Gardening

2009-05-10T19:06:00.000-07:00

Here's my story of a novice gardener's 1st organic vegetable garden.

Living on a hillside, having a garden is difficult without terracing. However there's a small, flat area of land that I had in mind for years. So 6 years after purchasing our home, and with my daughter's 4th birthday fast approaching, I woke up one morning determined to give my 1st garden a try.Beginning Stage:

An out of control mound of weeds. Astrid was out there helping me pull weeds. It took a good 2 hours to clear all the weeds.

My mom has a green thumb and I grew up watching her create all sorts of gardens. But I had never tried to grow anything on my own, and more importantly never thought I would be good at it. So now as a mom myself, I felt it important that I at least try especially for Astrid's benefit, to see where food comes from.Vision:

An organic vegetable garden after a lot of sweat and muscle.

My sweet husband came out with some ice water and asked how we were doing. I told him he could help by pulling some weeds and gathering them up for the green garbage. He mentioned his hay fever and said he was in the house doing laundry and washing the dishes. We both burst out laughing at the irony of the women doing yard work and the man of the house staying indoors cleaning and washing.

If I had my choice, I'd be outdoors in my garden. And I was glad he was there with his camera to take some photos of us.After laying down 2 bags of organic fertilizer and planting the seeds - here is what the garden looked like. A month later:

My tranquil, organic vegetable garden. I love it and so does my daughter. I needn't worry about forgetting to water it because my daughter reminds me everyday that we need to water the garden - morning and night.

I wasn't sure if I'd have any luck with seeds, but everything came up eventually.Butter Lettuce. Carrots. Pumpkin. They're already growing like crazy and I have a feeling they will take over the garden. Hoping for a couple pumpkins in time for Halloween.Tomato plants. Onions. End product:

Freshly picked lettuce we made into a salad with organic tomatoes and a vinaigrette. Something very satisfying about eating veggies from your own garden. However, next time I don't think I'll be growing lettuce again. It takes a lot of water and as you can see after all that we had 1 serving of lettuce.

Next I would like to try Brussel sprouts and hardier veggies, now that I'm a bit more confident of my abilities and what my garden will grow.

It feels good to learn something new and try something that I've never tried before. While I'm watering my garden I have some quiet time to meditate each day. I need that tranquility and peace, which my garden gives me. Now I get why my mom was so into gardening. It took me awhile but I finally get it.

"The Road" - In Movie Theaters October 16, 2009

2009-05-09T08:13:00.000-07:00

"The Road" movie- based on the Pulitzer Prize-winner bestseller from acclaimed novelist Cormac McCarthy ("No Country For Old Men") is set to hit movie theaters this October. "The Road" is a dramatic thriller/sci-fi story about a father and his young son struggling to survive in a post-apocalyptic America. All they have is each other.

The book was my favorite of last year. The bond and love between father and his young son and the sci-fi description of a cruel/devastated world in the future, had such brilliant writing, I ended up finishing the book in one sitting & even convinced my husband to read the book. I've been looking forward to the movie ever since. If done right it should be a beautiful movie that will move you to tears and haunt you for weeks afterward. Previously I read that it ran into budget/financing problems and they didn't even think it would be released - but now it looks like it will be.

In the movie "The Road" the father is played by Oscar nominee Viggo Mortensen, and son by newcomer Kodi Smit-McPhee. Oscar winners Robert Duvall (who plays the Old Man) and Charlize Theron (who plays the wife appearing in flashbacks) make brief but "resonating appearances". The movie is done by The Weinstein Company (the same studio that did "No Country For Old Men").

Can't wait to see it on the big screen!

My Very Own Organic Vegetable Garden

2009-03-28T22:02:00.000-07:00

This is a pretty big deal for me. I've never been one with earth, or even a weekend gardener. I have a potted plant in my bathroom that I rescued from my office I used to work at, (they were going to throw it away because it was no longer "perfect") a fern of some sort that is still living 7 years later (with many near death experiences - I sometimes forget to water it until I see it's wilting).

People who have knowledge about such things and are good at it, mystify me. But I eat organic, and know that fresh produce is so much better - taste wise and also for the environment as it doesn't have been transported via plane, trains and/or automobiles. And then there's my fantasy which goes something like this - I need tomatoes for dinner, and instead of having to run to the grocery store, I just step outside and pick a ripe one off the vine. Being self sufficient and eating the fruits of my labor are great ideals. I like it. Where can I get it?

Oh that's right that means I have to go to Home Depot and pick up a bunch of gardening stuff like organic soil, tools, seeds, and gardening shoes. That's right - gardening while wearing green rubber shoes that even your kid says look funny. And then there's picking weeds for 2 hours in the hot sun.

I sure hope my first attempt at gardening actually grows some vegetables. I planted tomatoes, carrots, lettuce, pumpkin, and onions. Simple veggies for a first time gardener.

Astrid helped me pull weeds, even out the soil, and plant seeds. She was so gung ho about doing everything until I actually let her and each time it wasn't as much fun as she originally thought. "I'm tired. It's hard and there's too much!" Yep. I felt the same way. But it will be so much fun to watch everything grow and a great teaching tool for Astrid.

I'll be so proud if I can feed my family with this garden. Now I just have to remember to water it everyday.

Mission Accomplished

2009-03-14T12:12:00.000-07:00

@convagency (aka U.) & @gapingvoid (aka Hugh MacLeod)

U. is attending the South by Southwest (SXSW) 2009 media conference in Austin, Texas. My one request was that he meet @gapingvoid and get a photo with him.

And here he is doing a drawing for me.

U. told him his wife was a big fan, so he drew me a personalized SXSW drawing, but instead of drawing a guy giving the middle finger, he changed it around a bit for me, as you can see in the pic above. Sweet! He's such a character. Wish I could have been there.

U. said he will guard it with his life to bring it back to me.

More of gapingvoid

2009-03-12T21:38:00.000-07:00

"The internet made the world I aspired to belong to a lot easier to reach, no doubt about it. I think that's why so much of us spend so much time on the the internet. Suddenly the world we want to belong to seems a lot closer. It's hard to turn that newfound excitement off." - gapingvoid (aka Hugh MacLeod)

The Bachelor - Jason Mesnick on Jimmy Kimmel (What a schmuck!)

2009-03-03T21:10:00.000-08:00

Jimmy Kimmel introduces the Bachelor Jason Mesnick as a "fickle pickle" and goes on to give him a hard time.

He asks him the question on my mind, "Why actually propose marriage? When you could have said - I pick you. Let's hang out."

What floors me is that Molly took him back and started making out with him in a nanosecond. I'm still shaking my head about it. But it did make good reality TV. This will go down in the Reality TV Hall of Fame, and EVERYONE is talking about it.

Jimmy asks the Bachelor, "Do you have the numbers of the other contestants in case you change your mind?" I love Jimmy Kimmel!

A Day at the Nail Salon

2009-02-28T20:33:00.000-08:00

This comedian talks about a day at the nail salon. Hilarious!

Great Depression Cooking with Clara

2009-02-28T19:14:00.000-08:00

Clara Cannucciari a 93 year old grandmother in upstate New York has become the latest YouTube sensation after her grandson filmed her making meals that her family ate during the Great Depression.

In this video Clara cooks what she calls “the three-course Poorman’s Feast,” which includes salad and lentils, rice and a little bit of meat cooked in lemon and oil.

Part of her appeal is of course that in these times of financial troubles people are doing whatever they can to stretch their dollar. But I enjoy it because they're simple meals with simple ingredients that are easy to replicate. As an added bonus, while the food is cooking, Clara sits down on the couch and shares stories of her life during the depression. It's like spending time with your grandmother while she cooks. Something very endearing about that.

We Need to Talk (Gapingvoid)

2009-02-26T22:59:00.001-08:00

My husband turned me on to this guy who goes by Gapingvoid. He's a social marketing guru who draws these simple little cartoons on the back of business cards. He's a genius all around, and highly entertaining. I look forward to his tweets on Twitter more than anyone else (with the exception of my husband).

If you're interested, check out his work at: http://gapingvoid.com

Depression survivors remember hope

2009-02-15T11:15:00.000-08:00

By P.J. Huffstutter, First In A Series Of Occasional Stories About Economic Struggles In America February 15, 2009

The lessons they learned during childhood in the 1930s weren't easy, but have lasted a lifetime.

In the early hours before dawn, Thelma May Beets shuffled across the cold linoleum floor for a weekly inspection of the trunk next to her bed.Her husband built the rust-colored tool chest when he came home from World War II. Now it is full of food: sugar, pasta, soup, oats, crackers, creamer.

Nearly blind, she reviewed her inventory by touch -- peanut butter jars with ridged lids, ground coffee rustling inside a can like dried oak leaves blown in the wind."If you like to eat, you better save some," said the 91-year-old widow, her fingers spotted with age and curled by arthritis. Thelma has long kept some food in the chest, but as the latest recession has deepened, she's made a point of keeping it full.

It's a compulsion she learned as a child of the Great Depression, the period of epic hardship that began with the stock market crash in 1929 and lasted for a decade.Her memories of that time have come flooding back lately. The survivors of the Depression are approaching the ends of their lives, and their tales flow freely -- of countless injuries and precious joys. They experienced humiliation and unexpected generosity, moments of fear and times of laughter.

The privation left scars that have lasted a lifetime. Thelma still smarts from the looks that other children gave her worn checkered dress, her only one. The bare walls of the abandoned home her family moved into, and snowflakes that sneaked in through broken windows, still linger in her memory.

"My age group, the older people, we came up the hard way," she said from her home in Sedalia, Ind., about 60 miles northwest of Indianapolis.

But many survivors of the Great Depression say that their youth eventually became a time of triumph for them. The country, ever resilient, learned to adapt to this society of wanting and embraced a cooperative spirit that would carry it through another world war, the Cold War and a dozen recessions to come.

The children of those times learned things that they would remember for the rest of their lives. They discovered how to make endless pots of soup, how to use corncobs for fuel, how to make undergarments from bleached feed sacks. They learned the value of a wild imagination and honest neighbors.They were good lessons.

BERTHA GREENSTEIN
It all began for Bertha Greenstein when she couldn't get a new pair of shoes.Good shoes were everywhere in New York in the late 1920s -- T-straps, Mary Janes, slip-on boots, soft leather pumps. Nothing said style like shoes.

Her father, Jacob Greenstein, was an immigrant from Romania and co-owned a tailoring shop in Lower Manhattan. He spent his days surrounded by bolts of fine cashmere and the sharp, rich scent of hair tonic. His nimble fingers smoothed the cloth across the shoulders of stylish stockbrokers and other businessmen.

Bertha was not quite 11 when the stock market crashed in 1929. Still, she was old enough to navigate New York's streets alone. On weekends, she delivered her father's lunch and watched the customers pass through the glass double doors of Tress and Greenstein.In the weeks after the crash, she heard people on the street talking about wealthy men who had lost their fortunes. Some drank poison or hanged themselves, the newspaper hawkers bellowed on the streets. She became aware that her father, now pale and drawn, was spending more time at home.

"He never talked about the business to the kids or when we were present," said Bertha, the youngest of seven. "He would say, 'Well, we'll have to look for something else to do.' "Eight months after the crash, Jacob sold his share of the tailoring shop and bought a bakery on 110th Street, a block from Central Park. It was a deep and narrow storefront with a faded green awning. People lined up for dense loaves of rye and horn-shaped rolls covered in salt.

Every couple of weeks, as customers' debts grew, her father sent her to collect. She would crisscross the neighborhood, climb flights of stairs and politely ask for the lady of the house. Everyone recognized her as the baker's daughter.

She loved to walk -- to school, to basketball games, on dates strolling through Central Park. She found jobs along the way -- tutoring children, selling paper flowers, folding bolts of cloth in a fabric store.There was a beauty to never standing still, even though it was hard on her shoes.

When holes in her soles grew to the size of quarters, she cut off a chunk of the tan cake boxes in her father's bakery and slipped them inside her shoes, over and over again."If the cardboard was thin, we'd put two layers in," said Bertha, 90, who still arches her tiny feet when she walks on a cold day, as if trying to get away from the memory of wet snow.

LEMUEL ARTHUR LEWIE JR.
It took time for the Depression to settle into the minds of children whose parents had jobs, a precious commodity at a time when the national unemployment rate would eventually hit 25%.

Arthur Lewie's father, Dr. Lemuel Lewie Sr., was the only African American dentist on Main Street in Columbia, S.C. For years, patients -- black and white -- came to him with aching jaws and throbbing teeth.Arthur began to notice that things were different when patients stopped paying cash.

"They'd bring hams, chickens, things like that, for us," he said.Arthur was 10 at the time, the eldest of three, and he had never known hard times. Unlike many of their neighbors, the Lewies owned their wood-frame home, with a wraparound porch so wide that the children could race their tricycles on it. It sat on 4 acres of rich soil with corn, flowers and grapevines running along the side of the house.

His mother, Ophelia, heard the news of banks collapsing in the North. She suggested to her husband that they pull their money out of the black-owned bank in Columbia and invest in postal bonds. "My father left all his money in the bank and, of course, he lost it all," Arthur said.

He realized that life was changing. Trips to buy clothes became less frequent. There were fewer visits to family in other parts of the South.He began spending more time with his parents, turning the land into a working farm. Sections of lawn were replaced with rows of tomato plants, cabbage and collard greens. Pits were dug into the ground to store potato slips and vegetable seeds.

His father, who had a passion for automobiles, worked on his own car to save money. He showed Arthur how to fit piston rings, adjust valves and replace crankshaft bearings.Each vegetable picked and engine repaired impressed the boy with the importance of self-reliance.

"I knew the value of being able to make things, and do things yourself," said Arthur, 89. "I could be self-sufficient. . . . I could live off the land."I wouldn't ever have to beg," he said.

REVA GOODWIN
Reva Goodwin remembers lots of strangers showing up on her family's back doorstep, asking for something to eat. There was always a bowl of soup waiting for them.

In northwest Baltimore, she grew up with the constant smell of stock simmering from the blackened cast-iron pot that sat on the stove's back burner.Her mother, Edith, would add whatever was available to the pot, depending on the season and the amount of money that Reva's father, William, made from the auto repair shop he owned.

Bunches of kale, winter squash and ruby-red stewed tomatoes went into the pot. In the summer, ears of corn were shelled to join onions, potatoes, rice and celery.Meat joined the soup whenever available: ham hocks, chicken chunks, stew beef, bacon grease -- anything to make each spoonful more satisfying.

Visiting friends would cross the kitchen's gunmetal gray linoleum, carrying a gift for the pot. A couple that worked for a caterer in the city routinely arrived with boxes of leftover chickens, extra beans, even sweet rolls to enjoy after a bowl of Edith's soup.

That pot was never empty, and nothing in the kitchen was wasted. Ketchup bottles were turned upside down to coax the last few drops.My mother "had everything imaginable in that soup, all of the vegetables that were nourishing," said Reva, the eldest daughter of six children. There was always something to share.

Her father complained that she was giving away food, but Edith shrugged it off. Theirs was a tight-knit African American neighborhood, a line of brick row houses filled with schoolteachers, chauffeurs and city workers.As children grew older, winter jackets and summer dresses were passed down from home to home, until the cloth was too thin to wear. After that, they became rags for quilts and washing.

The people asking for food were often white. It didn't matter to Edith. In her eyes, having food to share meant the difference between being rich and barely surviving."In the neighborhood, everyone looked out for each other," said Reva, 79.

"We had to mind everybody in the neighborhood. . . . People have forgotten that."

RICHARD HARDING
Even with the help of family and friends, there were sacrifices, many of them beyond the understanding of children.

In the depths of the Depression in 1933, Richard Harding's mother found a job as a nurse's aide at Whidden Memorial Hospital, just outside Boston. The pay was decent and there was a spare room in the hospital's nursing home where she could live for free. There was, however, no room for children.

Richard was 7. His father, a fisherman from Newfoundland, had drowned when he was 10 months old. His mother, Temperance Anne, had struggled to raise him and his sister, Margaret.

Anne asked two of her brothers to take care of her children, and they agreed. Earlier in the Depression, she had helped them.

"I have to work and I'm sorry," Richard remembered his mother telling him.His uncle reminded him that he was "the extra kid in the family," said Richard, who resented the chores he had to do that his four younger cousins didn't have to.

Across town, Margaret was included in most family activities, but knew she too was a burden.Both uncles were carpenters who were struggling to find work in Boston. They rose early each morning and headed to a nearby union office, waiting for jobs that came sporadically.

Anne and the children spent weekends together. They wandered along the downtown square's shops, gazing at window displays of the latest fashions. "We never talked much about how we felt about how we were doing," Richard said.

For nearly four years, they lived apart from their mother. Richard thought of running away. Margaret grew withdrawn.Then Anne met Andrew Hillier, a Newfoundlander 12 years her senior. He was a good man with a steady job, and they wed in 1937. Anne told her children years later that she remarried to bring them home.

Long after the Depression, Richard said, his uncle reached out and they slowly developed a friendship. Richard, after raising his own family and facing his own worries, came to understand his uncle's words."A lot of his abrasiveness was this constant on edge of 'How am I going to provide for this family?' " said Richard, 82. "He gave me a roof to live under and enabled my mother to work."That was worth forgiveness, he figured.

JUDY KYSER
After years of the Depression, the hardships gradually began to ease as federal spending boomed, factory jobs grew and prices slowly rose.The changes, however, were hard to notice on the farm outside Jonesville, Mich., where Judy Kyser grew up.

She was an avid reader, sneaking away from the battered metal washtub to curl up on her feather bed with a stack of movie magazines about faraway Hollywood. At dusk, when the wagonload of hay had been harvested, she sat next to the family's oil lamp with murder mysteries and dreamed of solving crimes.

But as the Depression wore on, she set aside the books and magazines from the school library once the sun set. Coal oil was too expensive to waste.She was left to her own imagination at night.

"I can remember as a teen going to bed early because then I could dream," said Judy, now 84. "I dreamed about the movie stars and the different lives and how it would be to meet these people."

In 1936, President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed the Rural Electrification Act, which promised to install electrical distribution systems to rural areas. It was one of many government efforts to pump cash and technology into the country.

It took two more years for electricians to arrive at Judy's family farm. On a summer day, they came with rolls of cabling the size of a tractor and began planting wooden poles along the road.

Judy was the youngest of seven and the only girl. Her father had passed away. Her mother and two brothers were running the farm. Crop sales were rising. So was the price of milk.

That first night, after the workmen left, she raced to her bedroom. There it was: a light fixture, with a single bulb. She tugged on its metal chain and a warm light bathed the room.Within months, the family bought an electric iron, a washing machine and a radio. "It was all the things that made life easier," she said.

World War II was coming, and the country's impending burst of production would eventually catapult the U.S. out of its economic malaise.But at that first moment, a lightbulb was enough for Judy. The dark days of her childhood would never seem so dark again.

WHO THEY ARE
*Judy Kyser briefly attended Michigan State College and, under the stage name Judy Perkins, became a country music performer, starring in the "Midwestern Hayride" television show in the 1940s. She married Robert Sinclair in 1949 and had one child. Her husband died in 1965. The 84-year-old lives in Springdale, Ohio, a suburb of Cincinnati.

*Bertha Greenstein met David Gold, at a dance when she was 17. He courted her over the counter of her father's bakery and they married in 1941. She played on the Manhattan Co-Eds exhibition basketball team in the late 1930s and later worked as a secretary. The couple traveled the world, pursuing their hobby of learning new dances. David died last spring. Bertha, 90, lives with her eldest daughter and son-in-law in Watsonville, Calif.

*Arthur Lewie, 89, served as a first lieutenant with the Tuskegee Airmen during World War II. After the war, he earned a master's degree in biology from Atlanta University and taught science and math at George Washington Carver Vocational-Technical High School in Baltimore. He met Reva Goodwin at a funeral and they married in 1948; she is now 79. They live in the Baltimore suburb of Windsor Mill, Md., and have kept a vegetable garden at home for 50 years.

*Richard Harding, 82, served in the Navy in World War II, graduated from seminary, married in 1948 and had four children and seven grandchildren. A Methodist minister, he served as pastor of the historic Old West Church in Boston. Harding, now a part-time minister in Sudbury, Mass., established a group of retired United Methodist Church pastors in New England who perform same-sex marriage ceremonies. He and his wife, Shirley, live in Concord, Mass.

*Thelma May Young graduated from high school and married Paul Beets in 1936. The mother of six became a prolific writer of historical short stories and, until her eyesight began to fail, and was one of the most successful Tupperware salespeople in Indiana. She lives in the same house in Sedalia where she raised her children.

p.j.huffstutter@latimes.com

Reunited 40 Years Later

2009-02-12T21:24:00.000-08:00

Boston Globe
Maria Cramer
February 12, 2009

In 1968, a white firefighter saved a black baby girl, touching the heart of a divided city. The two did not meet again. Until yesterday.

The firefighter crawled on his stomach through the pitch-black apartment, the smoke so thick he couldn't see his hand in front of his face. Somewhere inside was a baby and he had to find her.

A window broke, light filled the room, and he saw her lying in her crib, dressed only in a diaper, unconscious. Soot covered her tiny nose. She wasn't breathing and had no pulse.

He grabbed her and breathed life into her as he ran from the apartment.

A newspaper photograph captured their image - a white firefighter from South Boston with his lips pressed to the mouth of a black baby from the Roxbury public housing development - at a time when riots sparked by racial tensions were burning down American cities.

But despite this most intimate of introductions, they remained strangers. William Carroll won a commendation for the rescue, stayed on the job another 34 years, and retired. Evangeline Harper grew up, lost her family to drugs and illness, had six children of her own, and became a nursing and teaching assistant. And through it all someone would often tell her the story about the day she almost died and the man who would not let it happen. She always wanted to meet him and say thank you.

Yesterday, more than 40 years after the fire, she finally did.

In the neighborhood where they first met, Carroll, a slim 71-year-old, got out of his car, dressed in a navy blue uniform he had borrowed from a fellow firefighter, strode up to the 40-year-old woman, and beamed.

"You've grown a lot since the last time I saw you," he said, laughing and putting out his hand. She smiled, gently took his hand, and looked at him almost shyly.

"Thank you so much for remembering me," he told her.

Then he pulled her into a tight embrace and they held on to each other as they stood on Keegan Street, just a few yards from where he had carried her limp body decades ago.

"Thank you so much," she said softly.

The Globe arranged the meeting after Evangeline Harper, now Evangeline Anderson, introduced herself to a reporter at a community meeting and asked for help tracking down Carroll.

Anderson, who now lives in Dorchester, had tried twice before to locate the firefighter, first when she was 18, after her adoptive mother told her about the rescue, and again right after the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks.

She tried to get his address from the Fire Department, but they said they could not give out personal information. She left her name and phone number, but never heard back.

"I thought, 'Oh, forget it. He probably doesn't remember," she said. " 'He's not interested.'

That could not have been further from the truth.

"Evangeline Harper," Carroll said. "I'll never forget her name if I live to be 100 years old."
He heard once that she had been trying to get in touch with him, but somehow her phone number was lost and he did not know how to reach her.

For a while, Anderson stopped looking. Then, she heard the news about Lieutenant Kevin M. Kelley, the firefighter who was killed in January after his firetruck crashed into a Mission Hill building.

" 'Oh my God, this could have been this gentleman, and I never got a chance to say thank you,' " she recalled thinking. "I didn't want him to leave this earth or I to leave this earth without saying thank you."

Yesterday, she brought her youngest child, 6-year-old Reginald, and her godmother, Jacqueline Greer, who witnessed the rescue. For the meeting, Anderson swept her hair in a curly updo and carefully applied lip gloss.

The women brought Carroll a giant stuffed bear, and a thank-you card tucked inside an envelope addressed "To Our Hero."

Richard Paris, vice president of the firefighters union, stood nearby with Carroll's wife and little Reginald, who kicked at the frozen snow on the sidewalk as Greer, Carroll, and Anderson reminisced about the neighborhood. Gone were the brick high-rises that had once formed Orchard Park. In their place were two-level attached apartments painted in pastels and browns.

"I haven't been here in so long," Carroll said.

No one could remember exactly what started the fire on Nov. 7, 1968, but Greer said it began in the family's kitchen. Carroll, who was assigned to Engine 3, heard the report of children trapped in a burning building.

When Carroll arrived, Greer was at the scene, screaming and crying hysterically.
Carroll saved Evangeline, while Firefighter Charles Connolly rescued her 17-month-old brother, Gerry, and handed him to Lieutenant Joseph O'Donnell, who gave the boy mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

"He just cared," Greer, now 60, said of Carroll. "It wasn't that the child was black or she was white. It was a child and he was trying his best to bring her back her life."

Yesterday, both remembered who was missing from the reunion. Connolly and O'Donnell died long ago of heart problems. Anderson's brother Gerry succumbed to pneumonia as a toddler. Her grief-stricken mother turned to drugs for comfort, and died of an overdose at age 25. Her two sisters died young of natural causes. Last year, Anderson lost both her adoptive mother and uncle.

"I wish my friends . . . were here," Carroll said. "But they're up there watching over us."

"That's what I say about my family," Anderson said.

The two quickly built a rapport. He asked about her children, and she told him her eldest son was studying forensic science in college and how musical her other children are.

He told her he wanted to get to know her, and she promised to cook him some soul food.
"Oh, baby," he said, laughing. "I love it, but my stomach don't."

Carroll then took the group for lunch at Florian Hall, the union's headquarters, where Carroll still goes every week for coffee with friends or to help fellow retirees with healthcare questions. Over sandwiches, the group looked at old black-and-white photos of that day and traded stories about the challenges of raising children.

Carroll bonded with Anderson's son, who drew a picture of himself holding Carroll's hand.
Parting in the parking lot, Carroll hugged Greer and Anderson and told Reginald to call him.
"There's your new grandpa," Anderson said to her son.

"What a beautiful day," the retired firefighter said as he turned and walked back inside.

College student is excited and overjoyed to ask Obama a question

2009-02-11T12:02:00.000-08:00

A college student in Florida gets chosen to ask the last question at a town hall meeting with President Barack Obama. (Obama went boy/girl/boy/girl so that no one would get mad at him. Hehe.)

This really touched me & made me smile. I feel the same way about Obama and his new administration being in the White House. Someone is really listening and trying to do some good. It's about time!

56-year-old becomes first woman to swim Atlantic

2009-02-08T12:41:00.000-08:00

Update: The great Atlantic Ocean swimming hoax

By Danica Coto, The Associated Press

SAN JUAN, Puerto Rico – Jennifer Figge pressed her toes into the Caribbean sand, exhilarated and exhausted as she touched land this week for the first time in almost a month.

Reaching a beach in Trinidad, she became the first woman on record to swim across the Atlantic Ocean — a dream she’d had since the early 1960s, when a stormy trans-Atlantic flight got her thinking she could don a life vest and swim the rest of the way if needed.

The 56-year-old left the Cape Verde Islands off Africa’s western coast on Jan. 12, swimming about 2,100 miles (3,380 kilometers) through strong winds and waves of up to 30 feet (9 meters).

She now plans to swim from Trinidad to the British Virgin Islands, ending her odyssey at the Bitter End Yacht Club in late February.

Then it’s home to Aspen, Colorado — where she trained for months in an outdoor pool amid snowy blizzards — to reunite with her Alaskan Malamute.

“My dog doesn’t know where I am,” she told The Associated Press on Saturday by phone. “It’s time for me to get back home to Hank.”

The dog swirled in her thoughts, as did family and friends, as Figge stroked through the chilly Atlantic waters escorted by a sailboat. She saw a pod of pilot whales, several turtles, dozens of dolphins, plenty of Portuguese man-of-war — but no sharks.

“I was never scared,” Figge said. “Looking back, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I can always swim in a pool.”

Her journey comes a decade after French swimmer Benoit Lecomte made the first known solo trans-Atlantic swim, covering nearly 4,000 miles (6,400 kilometers) from Massachusetts to France in 73 days. No woman on record has made the crossing.

Figge woke most days around 7 a.m., eating pasta and baked potatoes while she and the crew assessed the weather. Her longest stint in the water was about eight hours, and her shortest was 21 minutes. Crew members would throw bottles of energy drinks as she swam; if the seas were too rough, divers would deliver them in person. At night she ate meat, fish and peanut butter, replenishing the estimated 8,000 calories she burned a day.

Figge wore a red cap and wet suit, with her only good-luck charm underneath: an old, red shirt to guard against chafing, signed by friends, relatives and her father, who recently died.
The other cherished possession she kept onboard was a picture of Gertrude Ederle, an American who became the first woman to swim across the English Channel.

“We have a few things in common,” Figge said. “She wore a red hat and she was of German descent. We both talk to the sea, and neither one of us wanted to get out.”

Figge arrived on Trinidad’s Chacachacare Island, an abandoned leper colony, on Feb. 5 at 5:20 p.m. She plans to leave Trinidad on Monday night. During this brief respite, she has avoided the hotel pool and nearby ocean, opting instead for the treadmill.

Barack Obama is now following me on Twitter

2009-02-08T12:37:00.000-08:00

From: Twitter twitter-follow-rmhook=yahoo.com@postmaster.twitter.com
To: rmhook@yahoo.com
Sent: Sunday, February 8, 2009 12:31:49 PM

Subject: Barack Obama is now following you on Twitter!

Hi, rosehook (rosehook).Barack Obama (BarackObama) is now following your updates on Twitter.

Check out Barack Obama's profile here: http://twitter.com/BarackObamaBest,Twitter

Amazing Rainbow appears after the rain

2009-02-07T11:43:00.000-08:00

My husband and daughter woke me up at 7:30 AM to view this beautiful rainbow (actually double rainbow if you look closely), that we could see from our home, after two days of rain. What a great way to greet the day!

I Am a Rock - Simon & Garfunkel

2009-01-27T19:58:00.000-08:00

I heard this song on XM radio today on the drive home. It's a song I've heard dozens of times before, and only today did I really listen and relate to the lyrics.

A Good Day with my Dad

2009-01-26T19:55:00.000-08:00

I've written previously (here) that my dad was diagnosed with dementia and it continues to get progressively worse. It's a sad topic that fills me with dread, and so I don't talk about it much.

The summer of 2007, I was able to spend a lot of time with my dad since I wasn't working, and it was important to me that my daughter bond with her grandfather and have memories of him, and vice versa. The firm that I work for now generously offered me the opportunity to work remotely on Mondays so I can continue to see my father. Monday are important because it's the one day of the week that he sometimes remembers I'm coming to see him.

We started to notice that it was getting bad and wasn't the usual "I forgot where I left my keys or wallet" type forgetfulness, when he couldn't remember if he had eaten or not. Nor could he remember the food that he had just eaten 10 minutes before. So he could have eaten 5 times or not at all and he would have no memory of it. That includes taking his medication. So now my mother makes sure he takes his medication in the morning, prepares meals for him when she's at work by attaching a note saying what time to eat it and to call her.

It has been so sad to see my dad who used to read every inch of the newspaper, and who was in the newspaper business for over 16 years, not bother anymore, and the LA Times piling up outside his house unopened. And my dad the All-American who lettered in football, baseball, basketball, wrestling, track and field, and was even co-captain of his high school football team, no longer caring about any sport. I have many fond memories of falling asleep on the couch watching a ball game with my dad, the avid sports fan. Now he doesn't even know what sport is in season.

There have been days that he has not wanted to leave the house. Others where he has been completely confused. When we are at a restaurant, he cannot remember where we are seated, so if he uses the restroom, or gets some food at the buffet, he gets lost. I also know there have been days he cannot remember my daughter's name, and calls her "the girl". And he'll ask the same questions over and over again, forgetting that he just asked it 5 minutes ago. This used to upset me immensely, but now it's so common that I've come to expect it.

When I share the latest sign of dementia with my mother, she laughs. I guess it's either that or cry right? She's seen it all, and lives with it everyday, whereas I'm the visitor who goes home at the end of the day.

So today, we went to a Chinese buffet restaurant that he loves. I spotted him sitting at another table, but he immediately got up and walked back with us to our table. And I kept an eye out for him when he went to use the restroom, so as soon as he came back out my daughter ran over to him to show him the way back to where we were sitting. We even had a nice conversation at lunch which has been missing for awhile.

Then my dad says to me, "Look at that water buffalo over there." I turn to look hoping he's talking about a painting. No such luck. Now I have a 3 year old who does the same thing, "Why is she so big mom?" A 3 year old doesn't know better. A man in his 70's does, but it's one of those things that dementia does - it takes away the filter. And it can be downright embarrassing as he has no understanding that he's being rude or that others can hear him.

After lunch we normally go to the park and sit on a bench together and watch her play with other neighborhood children. But today it was too cold to sit outside, so we played indoors instead. It was sweet to see my Grandpa and Granddaughter playing together.

I know there will come a day when he won't remember who she is, and that at a later date he'll no longer remember who I am, but I do cherish the remaining good days that he has. I know he loves me and my child. There's never a question about a lot of love being there. It just pains me to know that the man I know, my father is disappearing. I was always daddy's little girl, so that probably makes it even more difficult, as no matter how much we butt heads in the past, we always respected and loved one another. It's hard as hell to say good-bye in your own way to someone who is still living and who you love very much.

All day today, my dad was pretty clear headed, and as I was getting ready to leave and drive home, he said, "Do you still live in that house with the view of the city?"

"Yes, dad. I still live there," I answered. (What a funny thing to ask I thought, since I never moved.)

"It's funny how just now I could remember that," he said. And I could see him picturing my house and the view from my balcony in his mind. And it made me smile.

dineLA Restaurant week 2009

2009-01-26T09:48:00.000-08:00

dineLA Restaurant Week is back!

dineLA.com is the place to preview the hundreds of mouth-watering, prix-fixe menus from a spectacular list of Southland restaurants participating in the second annual dineLA Restaurant Week taking place January 25 – 30 and February 1 – 6, 2009. dineLA Restaurant Week has registered more than 150 restaurants throughout Los Angeles County, from Pasadena to the Westside, Long Beach to Woodland Hills and beyond.

For the entire list of participating restaurants and their menus and to make reservations go to dineLA.com/restaurantweek.

Dining experiences during the event will be available in three price categories: Deluxe Dining is $16 for lunch and $26 for dinner; Premier Dining is $22 for lunch and $34 for dinner, and Fine Dining is $28 for lunch and $44 for dinner (beverages, tax and gratuity are not included; participating meal periods vary by restaurant).

The dineLA Restaurant Week restaurant list, searchable by location, encompasses a wide variety of Zagat rated restaurants, including Patina, Valentino, and Water Grill, and a host of newcomers sure to make the “A” list including Gordon Ramsay at The London West Hollywood, The Bazaar by Jose Andres at The SLS Hotel, and Akasha. There are old favorites such as Chinois on Main, Campanile and Chaya Brasserie, but also many newcomers including Ivan Kane's Cafe Wa s, Royal/T Cafe and Katsuya Glendale.

LOST Premier - Season 5

2009-01-21T23:05:00.000-08:00

And just like that...I get sucked back in to watching yet another season of Lost.

The beginning was a complete waste of time with the people involved in the series talking about how great the show is and why everyone likes it. But what I did get from all that talking was that the series has aired for 4 seasons already. Wow...4 years. I can't believe it's been on for that long. I wikied it and found this piece of trivia: "The pilot episode was first broadcast on September 22, 2004."

It's one of the best shows on regular TV which is quite painful at times to watch, considering all of the really cheesy sitcoms, some TV shows that you never liked and yet won't seem to go away (ER anyone?), or bad reality TV. I mostly tune out network TV, or go to one of the cable channels for their shows (i.e., HBO, Showtime). I even stopped watching Lost for awhile, but then the writing started to get better, and I rented the DVD's to get caught up for Season 5.

This year I keep hearing that they focus on Sawyer. That would be great since they've placed him on the back burner and given him crumby lines - although his character is fascinating. The bad guy who you love to love, and who isn't really all that bad you think. Those episodes with him and Kate were the best. Okay I have to stop now, because it sounds like I'm caught up in a soap opera. Which I don't watch for the record. But everyone knows how great it is to watch a miniseries/drama and you really get into the characters and even forgive the writers when they write cheesy dialogue, and you just go with the story. That's how it feels with Lost. I'm just going with the story because it's so darn entertaining and sucks me in every time.

Obama our nation turns it's lonely eyes to you

2009-01-20T13:29:00.000-08:00

The 44th President of the United States of America -

Barack Hussein Obama II.

Pics from today's MLK Day Parade & Festivities 2009

2009-01-19T17:15:00.000-08:00

Click here to view more pics of us at the MLK parade.

Doo-Dah Parade 2009

2009-01-18T23:44:00.000-08:00

"The Pasadena Doo-Dah Parade, started in 1976, is a popular farcical and flamboyant parade held in Pasadena, California about once a year, usually in the fall or winter. Conceived in 1976 by several friends, in Pasadena, as a response to the traditional formality of the Rose Parade, which is also held in Pasadena."

A parade of Dachshunds. The parade also had Basset Hounds and Boston Terriers.

Unicycle with mime holding a parasol.

Jets flying overhead.

A bunch of mascot animal characters. The Coyote was giving out high fives.Islamic cheerleaders wearing burkas.

The parade was fun to watch and very kid friendly. People in the parade passed out necklaces and Astrid even got a pirate rubber ducky from a guy dressed as a pirate.

For Star Wars fans.

Man with a pot leaf on his hat directing the parade traffic.

Yoda.

Darth Vader and his stormship troopers.

Marching behind their spaceship.These BBQ'ers wore Kingsford charcoal bags as hats and grilled as they marched along with the parade.

U.'s only criticism was that it wasn't as outrageous as he'd expected. We'll definitely try and make it next year, as it was fun for the whole family.

Click here to view more photos of us at the Doo-Dah parade.

Martin Luther King Parade & Festivities on Mon. 1/19/09

2009-01-17T10:43:00.000-08:00

LEIMERT PLAZA PARK

4395 Leimert Blvd.

Los Angeles, CA 90008

This year we're making it a family event to see the MLK parade in Los Angeles and to participate in the festivities. It's a little slice of history, especially with Obama's inauguration the next day.

This year the parade will begin at 10:30 AM at the corner of Western Avenue and Martin Luther King, Jr. Blvd. in Los Angeles. The route goes west to Crenshaw and south to Vernon, and the entire processional should last about two and a half hours. This year’s parade will feature 18 marching bands, floats, and celebrity guests including Tyler Perry, Tony Grant, and Orlando Brown. The recommendation I'm seeing for parking is at the parade’s end near Leimert Park, where an all-day “Presidential Dreams” Fest and Gospel Celebration will be taking place with live music and food vendors.

(Previously we had planned to attend the inauguration in DC in person, but after haggling with the hotel that we reserved in November, that now wants to charge us $900 a night for a single room, that's not going to happen. Disappointing. But we all know DC is completely sold out and I've even heard people are renting tents on their property. On a positive note, it's great to see an outpouring of support for Obama and to see that it's a real movement that millions of people want to be a part of. Plus, attending the parade with our daughter on a sunny day in Los Angeles rather than in the cold - gives me something to look forward to.)

Straight from the heart

2009-01-16T17:22:00.001-08:00

When it comes to emotions of the heart, it's rare that I show uninhibited emotion, but other times I'm caught completely off guard by emotion. A lump in my throat and slow tears, or a sudden gush of tears. It could be a story I hear on the radio, something I see on the news, or in a movie, or even a song. Just bam! - right smack in the face I'm bawling like a baby. And I'm always shocked. Why am I crying and getting caught up in this? Obviously it helps when you're alone, or in a dark movie theatre where no one can see you. But it's also happened when I was driving, listening to a story on the radio and either I continue driving with a huge goofy grin on my face or tears streaming down my face ("This American Life" radio program comes to mind)- and others driving by - if they bother to look over are probably wondering "What's going on with that lady?"

Now if I was a complete cry baby it'd be one thing. But I'm not. In fact my upbringing was the complete opposite. I was taught you just don't show emotion. Even when you laugh - in the Korean culture - you're expected to put your hand over your mouth and not show pure joy - or be deemed a moron who lacks manners and a brain. "Who laughs with their mouth wide open like that?" I've heard my mom say. Or to be chided, "Don't laugh so hard." Control your emotions is what I was taught to do. My husband has remarked on occasion, "It's your Korean side coming out. You never complain or feel sorry for yourself - you just deal with it and work with what you've got." And in a test of pain endurance my husband thinks I would win.

And it's not just my Korean upbringing, it also comes from my father. He was in the Air Force for 20 years and also was born during the depression in the United States. I remember he needed stitches above his eye from a deep gash and told the doctor not to give him anything for the pain, but to just stitch him up. My father respected me for being "tough" so I was tough. I've been emotionally tough my whole life, so when something hits that soft part of my heart and gets me to emote like that it's a wonderful thing that I don't even understand myself.

For example, I was watching the movie, "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" and there's a scene where they're driving in a convertible with the top down, the sun is shining, and all you see is the back of his girlfriend's hair whipping around in the wind, and there's a U2 song blaring. I immediately burst into tears. Um excuse me, but where the hell did that come from? It just touched me so deeply. (The director Julian Schnabel is also a painter, and every scene was brilliantly crafted like a painting.)

Recently I read a book, "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy and I wept for the characters. I was there watching them, rooting for them, and hoping to keep them safe. It was such a beautifully written story that moved me and I found myself in that book for hours and days afterward. (The Road won the Pulitzer Prize in 2007, and McCarthy also wrote the novel No Country for Old Men. I read the book in one sitting by the way - and highly recommend it.)

Today I thought about my daughter and what a beautiful little artist she is becoming (I was e-mailing a photo of her most recent artwork to my husband), and thinking how proud I am to be her mother and what do you ya know - lump in my throat, warm tears in my eyes. What a sap! It's embarrassing but at the same time it makes me human. It's a human condition.

Have you had a similar experience? What things have made you burst into tears, weep, laugh out loud for prolonged periods of time forgetting everything around you? What has moved you to emote like this?

Happy New Year 2009!

2009-01-01T21:49:00.000-08:00

Pershing Square - Downtown LA on Ice

Virgin Lounge - London

2008-12-30T23:07:00.000-08:00

At the bar in our jammies

2008-12-30T11:14:00.000-08:00

Good to see a smile

2008-12-28T23:00:00.000-08:00

What a year 2008 has been. So many changes it made our heads spin. Especially for U. whose mother and father passed away a month and a half a part.

We wanted to get away for a few days. It did us a world of good, and it was great to see U. smiling. Here U. is standing in the Van Gogh Museum with a view of an ice rink in the distance.

Say Cheese!

2008-12-28T22:51:00.000-08:00

I heart Amsterdam

2008-12-27T22:48:00.000-08:00

Fugly Christmas Sweaters

2008-12-25T23:22:00.000-08:00

Tis the season for fugly Christmas sweaters like this one. I get it when old ladies wear these, but guys? U. once commented that those guys have "given up" and just let their wives dress them.

Click here to see more fugly Christmas sweaters.

Funny Christmas Card

2008-12-22T21:54:00.001-08:00

U. sent me this Christmas card this morning which made me howl with laughter. You can choose the "family" you want to be apart of.

You can make your own at http://www.basement-inc.com/holidaycard08

Celebrating my birthday at the shooting range

2008-12-21T18:39:00.000-08:00

This year I told my husband to forget the fancy dinner and get me guns and ammo.
The husband is looking hot in a Steve McQueen kind of way. Later I would show him how to lock and load.
Started off shooting 50 rounds with a .22 caliber Ruger revolver.

My husband had this pink shirt custom made for me that was perfect for the occasion. It has a peace sign on the front & a gun on the back.
Who says growing old can't be fun? Take that old age!
Taking care of business.
By the end I was shooting a 9mm semi-automatic Beretta.
This gun has some serious umph!
All smiles - holding up my target - a hostage scene.

What an awesome birthday!
Blowing out my birthday candle at The Four Seasons for brunch before all the shooting.

Flu Vaccine Mist Up the Nose

2008-12-15T14:05:00.000-08:00

Yes, it's true - no more flu shots. There's now a FluMist nasal flu vaccine that's administered by spray rather than injection.

I was with my kid at her pediatrician's office and asked about getting a flu shot. I was all prepared to get my flu shot first to show her how brave I was and how it's over in a jiffy. But the doctor recommended a nasal flu vaccine and said the only side effect is a slight runny nose (and it's $5 more). No more shots? Are you serious? We're so in!

So my 3 year old daughter and I both took it up the nose. It didn't hurt at all. You just inhale it up through each nostril. Not one iota of discomfort even. I didn't even have a runny nose afterwards.

Another added benefit: It's also a good alternative for parents who are afraid of thimerosal, the controversial mercury-containing vaccine additive that's still present in flu shots.

And even better yet, it's injection free so my kid wasn't traumatized this time!

My Birthday Wish

2008-12-10T20:38:00.000-08:00

My birthday is coming up this month and I told my husband today to forget the fancy dinner and just get me guns and ammo.

Any lesser of a man would have asked me what I had done with his wife. But my man just went with it and told me he had already made reservations to take me to The Four Seasons for brunch, and afterwards he'd make my dream come true and take me to a shooting range to pack some serious heat. Oh yeah this is going to be a memorable birthday. =)

Modern Day Lighter

2008-12-06T23:08:00.000-08:00

Yet another fun, interactive iPhone application. This photo was taken at the Cheech & Chong reunion tour performance in Los Angeles tonight.

Not a fire, but a brilliant LA sunset

2008-12-06T17:12:00.001-08:00

The view from the 2 fwy this evening.

An Oxymoron?

2008-12-06T17:09:00.001-08:00

Rose Parade 2009

2008-12-06T16:03:00.000-08:00

Preparation is already under way in Pasadena for the 2009 Rose Parade.This is what I saw today when I drove through Pasadena. The bleachers are already up.

Ever had a stalker ex?

2008-12-04T18:25:00.001-08:00

Well I have one and he found me on Facebook. No, we have no friends in common. But he's still thinking of me. Ugh.

I got creeped out just seeing his name in my inbox, when he sent me a "friend" request. And seeing his pic was downright frightening. If you've ever experienced a stalker ex - you know that at first they try and appear nice and sweet and then the true psycho behavior comes out when they won't take no for an answer.

I've been blogging about how much I've enjoyed rediscovering and reconnecting with old friends - some childhood friends going back to the 2nd grade - on Facebook. But my stalker ex finding me is obviously the ugly side of putting yourself out there, first and last name and all. For years I hesitated in publishing my last name as a precaution against something like this, but recently I threw caution to the wind and just went for it. So now I'm feeling mixed feelings about it.

But on the flip side there are all these people finder sites out there and if he really wanted to find me, he would have shown up on my doorstep by now. I just hope that seeing a recent pic of me with my family doesn't give him renewed energy to do something ridiculous like that, or fuel the fire of his delusional obsession with me. Maybe I should buy some pepper spray just to be on the safe side.

Dude looks like a lady

2008-12-02T21:56:00.000-08:00

After working late at the office, I come home, take a load off, eat a turkey sandwich in front of the TV, and watch a World War II documentary. I know what you're thinking...where's my beer?

I am because we are

2008-12-01T22:46:00.001-08:00

http://iambecauseweare.com/

I just watched the documentary, "I am because we are" about the millions of children in Africa orphaned by AIDS. Madonna narrates it - but if you can get past that - it's a very powerful documentary. It pains me to see children suffering with sickness, poverty, and no parents to protect them and care for them. On every young child's face I saw my own child's sweet face. The documentary made me cry but even more than that, it makes me want to do something to help.

Support the Bob Baker Marionette Theatre!

2008-11-30T10:52:00.000-08:00

Help support the Bob Baker Marionette Theatre to ensure it doesn't go out of business!

Bob Baker Marionette Theater

1345 W. 1st Street

Los Angeles, CA 90026

http://www.bobbakermarionettes.com/

Watch their cute 30 second promo video here.

The Bob Baker Marionette Theatre is the longest running children's theater in Los Angeles, running continuously since 1961. The theatre is celebrating their 47th year, but they're also in jeopardy of going out of business due to the economy. I hope that more people will take their kids here over the holidays to enjoy the show and support the theatre. It's a piece of LA history and a magical place for kids. It would be a tragedy if they had to close their doors. I would like to see this theatre open for many more generations.
We went there last year on Christmas eve to see the Nutcracker show. It was whimsical and so much fun! You couldn't help smiling and feeling like a kid watching the show. And my daughter who was 2 at the time was mystified by all the beautifully made marionettes. We will be going back again to watch the show this year and hope you'll join us in supporting the theatre!

They also do birthday parties at the theatre, and they'll travel to your location as well. Something to keep in mind for Astrid's 4th birthday party.

Click on the link below to see more photos of the theatre and read my write up from last year:

Christmas Eve - The Bob Baker Marionette Theater in LA

Nostalgia 101

2008-11-25T21:11:00.000-08:00

In the past couple of days I've reconnected with people I haven't spoken to since I was a kid (literally from elementary school, junior high and high school). Long lost kids (now adults with kids of their own) that I never thought I would ever see or hear from again.

It's like traveling back in time. Just crazy stuff. And then to see how they turned out is truly something out of a science fiction novel. It's like fast forwarding 20 years later.

Revelations:
My junior high crush said he remember being interested in me but also be intimidated by me. It's hard for me to picture my 12 year old self as being very intimidating. But the fact that he remembers being interested in me back then - even if it's just a figment of his imagination - made the 12 year old inside of me smile. And of course the adult smiled even more knowing I'm in a better place in my life.

I found a childhood friend who used to live up the street from me, and we were friends since 1st or 2nd grade. My dad and her mom used to work at the same company in downtown LA eons ago - so even our parents knew each other. Then in the 7th grade we got into a fight that ruined our friendship. I always regretted never having said I was sorry. And lo and behold she's on facebook - and I jumped at the chance to apologize. Both of us can't remember what the fight was even about. And she surprised me by apologizing to me as well. This was one thing that weighed heavy on my heart for many years and now it's gone. (Ever seen the move "Flatliners"? It was like that. Instead of a little boy in a red, hooded sweatshirt chasing me - it was a little girl who I had been cruel to and it had been eating away at me for years.) I'm so thankful I got that opportunity and didn't have to carry it with me to the grave. And now catching up with her has been so much fun!

Another guy I knew in high school remembers me being "really smart" as he puts it. He owns his own bail bonds company and is very successful in his own right. He owns a home in Chino Hills and when the earthquake hit, he had just put in a new pool and the water was splashing up to 2 feet out of the pool. I mean you couldn't make this stuff up.

And then there's the guy who looked like Morrissey. He's an attorney with a newborn.

All this makes me think about my next high school reunion. I really want to go now. Enough time has passed that people really have changed and they're more real (hopefully!).

I finally broke down and renewed my Classmates.com membership

2008-11-22T19:41:00.000-08:00

After all the e-mails and enticements from classmates.com to see who has visited my profile over the years and sent me e-mails, I finally renewed my membership. And wow what a flash from the past!

My "secret" Junior High School crush was listed in my guestbook. Guess it wasn't so "secret" after all. I sat behind him in a class or 2 since in those days they used to sit us alphabetically by our last names and lucky me (or so I thought) the boy with the most perfectly feathered hair had a last name that started with "He". My Junior High yearbook is covered with "I love you Jeff" all over it, circling every photo he appears in, no matter how dorky. He ended up taking a blond girl with really big, poofy hair (aka damaged - probably from all that sun-in and crimping) and braces to the Junior High prom.

Now 23 years later - and here I see his photo in my guestbook and at first had no idea who this guy was. A guy with 4 kids - 2 kids in high school, and a set of elementary school aged twin boys. And then I see a photo of him dancing with his daughter and it was something about the smile that transported me back to my Junior High days when I hoped that he'd come to his senses and realize that I was a much better catch than the peroxide queen. No such luck. He barely said anything to me, as I wished upon a star and stared at the back of his head.

Come present day, he searched through our shared Junior High School (we went to different High Schools since I moved away after Junior High). He's still living in my childhood neighborhood and his kids are going to the same schools he went to. I can't even imagine. He looks happy though in the ton of photos of himself and his family that he posted. But I can still read between the lines with his career (he left his work e-mail address to contact him) and the choices he made in his life. Plus he still seems very full of himself so I can't feel too sorry for him.

Then there was another boy who I went on a group date to the movies with in High School, who left to get some popcorn during the movie's sex scene. His younger sister Summer was a contestant on The Apprentice.

And another girl who was a cute, petite blond with a hard edge. Turns out she joined the Air Force and now has a kid and lives in Oregon working at some plant doing quality control.

I'm still searching for Justin Velo, a Diamond Bar High School classmate, also a modern day beatnik who was unique, bizarre, interesting and kind. For my 17th birthday he drove me and a bunch of my girlfriends to a party at my friend's house in his baby blue VW van, and gave me Jim Morrison's biography. I had heard he moved to San Francisco and was working in a bookstore (which is easy to imagine), but no one's heard of him since.

And why is it I didn't know we had a guy name Frankenstein who graduated in my class? Seeing all the unrecognizable names makes me realize just how few people I really knew in High School.

I'm not one of those that ever looks back and claims, "Those were the best times of my life." That's a blessing! As my adult life now is so much better in every respect from my childhood. In some respects I remember Junior High better than any other period in my life since it was so traumatic. High School is a complete blur as I saw it just as a stepping stone to college. After college is when my real life started. As it should be. But it's still fascinating to see how we all ended up in adulthood.

Barack-o-tini

2008-11-03T23:26:00.000-08:00

I was sipping on my Barack-o-tini as the election results were coming in. Ushering in a new era.

Nothing Compares 2 U - by The Coconutz

2008-10-25T06:16:00.000-07:00

I caught this flick, "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" on a recent flight back from Europe. It's a cute movie with a good soundtrack. At the end of the movie there's this version of Sinead O'Connor's - "Nothing Compares to you," by The Coconutz. Check it out - a haunting rendition entirely in Hawaiian.

Always look on the bright side of life

2008-10-11T09:51:00.000-07:00

When U. went to Germany in August, the Dollar to Euro conversion rate was ridiculously painful (for us 'Mericans'). But with Europe's economy having it's own financial crisis now, it makes our upcoming vacation to Europe a much sweeter deal - 30% cheaper and still going.

I'm voting for "that one"

2008-10-10T00:10:00.000-07:00

Too much is probably being made of John McCain's snide remark as he referred to Barrack Obama as "that one" since I'm sure it wasn't meant as "that nigger standing over there." But that whole thing just felt weird, and it's fun to poke fun at McCain.

And of course my vote is going to "that one" for sure!

And I'm so glad that "that one" won't be in the white house for much longer.

Where is a McCain bingo card when I need one?

2008-10-08T20:01:00.000-07:00

I could have filled up an entire bingo card with "My Friends".

Palin Bingo

2008-10-03T22:36:00.000-07:00

Last night U. presented me with 2 Palin bingo cards, and I couldn't help but laugh out loud. We were both looking forward to the debate between Biden and Palin, and the game made it much more bearable to hear Palin speak - and downright fun at times.

The space in the middle with Palin's face is called "Air Space" which you automatically get to cross out.

"Maverick!" we both shouted the first of the 20 or so times she said that word - as we each marked an X on our cards.

"Come on...say 'gosh' and 'working mom'," I said.

"Say 'Russia' and 'Sexism'," U. said.

"Oh yeah, she just said 'hockey mom'." "Do you have 'Al Qaeda'?"

"Too bad we don't have 'Talibani' on our cards."

You can create your own cards at: www.palinbingo.com

Andy Gibb - I Just Want To Be Your Everything

2008-09-30T23:56:00.000-07:00

A blast from the past

What a glorious LA evening!

2008-09-30T22:30:00.000-07:00

It's 10:30 at night and 82 degrees outside with a warm breeze. I sat out on my balcony tonight wearing a tank top and ate my dinner after a long day at the office. I love evenings like this.

I remember July nights that felt like this when I was a kid. Fourth of July I would take a sleeping bag and sleep outside under the stars in my backyard, long after all the fireworks ended, snuggling with my Boston Terrier.

Nights like these make me want to stay outside and enjoy the glorious warm weather for as long as possible. If only I still owned a sleeping bag...

Black Monday

2008-09-29T17:00:00.000-07:00

So my husband e-mails me with "Bailout Package defeated. Dow down 700 points. Wow."

The House on Monday defeated a $700 billion emergency rescue for the nation's financial system, ignoring urgent warnings from President Bush and congressional leaders of both parties that the economy could nosedive into recession without it.

Stocks plummeted on Wall Street even before the 228-205 vote to reject the bill was announced on the House floor.

The S&P 500 posted its biggest loss since 1987, and the Dow Jones industrials were down nearly 780 points in their largest one-day point drop ever.

The selling was so intense that just 162 stocks rose on the NYSE — and 3,073 dropped.

It takes an incredible amount of fear to set off such an intense reaction on Wall Street, and the worry now is that with the rescue plan's fate uncertain, no one knows how the financial sector hobbled by hundreds of billions of dollars in bad mortgage bets will recover.

While investors didn't believe that the plan was a panacea, and understood that it would take months for its effects to be felt, most market watchers believed it was a start toward setting the economy right after a credit crisis that began more than a year ago and that has spread overseas.

On the other hand we've seen how rushing without a well thought out plan, making decisions in haste under pressure and duress from the Bush Administration, and without weighing the consequences has worked out in the past:
1) The Patriot Act
2) Invading Iraq (weapons of mass destruction)
3) Funding the Iraq War (outside of the budget)
It's definitely an eerie feeling to be living in these times of history in the making. The only two things I can compare it to in my lifetime is the dot com boom and bust (although the Internet is still booming) and 9/11. We survived both. But each day with more banks closing and financial instability and gloom and doom, it's a very strange time period indeed. I'd love to be able to look into a crystal ball to see how all this will play out in the future. Time will tell.

Californication Season 2

2008-09-28T23:39:00.000-07:00

Californication is back for Season 2! Showtime Series on Sundays at 10 PM ET/PT. The entire 1st season is also available through On Demand in case you missed it. Highly recommend it.

It's shot in LA and is about a screenwriter Hank Moody, who moves to LA from NY after his novel gets picked up for a movie, and all the debauchery that takes place that ruins his relationship - while he's a very sweet, good guy underneath it all who is still in love with his ex girlfriend.

Hank Moody (played by David Duchovny)

Famed novelist & NYC transplant Hank relocates to LA after his acclaimed book is optioned, but it later becomes a crappy romantic comedy, which sparks a horrible case of writer's block. He's struggling to get his career back on track with the help of his agent/best friend, raise his pre-teen daughter, all while pining for his ex-girlfriend. It may sound desperate, but he enjoys life and owns all his various vices — drink, drugs and women — with a refreshing sense of honesty and unapologetic candor. He's holding it together while falling apart, and he doesn't mind it one bit.

Karen (played by Natascha McElhone)

Hank's long-time ex-girlfriend and the mother of his teenaged daughter. She was happy with struggling genius writer Hank when they lived in New York, but she can't begin to hide her disgust in L.A. Hank's inability to return to his promising craft and his immature, predictable behavior. Now that Hank is ghost writing the autobiography of a debaucherous famous record producer, how will she cope with Hank being surrounded on the daily by sex, drugs and rock & roll? Will her love/hate relationship with Hank jeopardize her sanity?

Mia (played by Madeline Zima)

This sexy siren upends Hank's life in a way he could never imagine. Their one-night stand after meeting at a bookstore sends Hank's life into a tailspin. How could he know the hot chick who liked his novel was the 16-year-old daughter of Karen's ex-boyfriend? While Hank tries to conceal their romp from Karen, Mia is off promoting the manuscript she stole from Hank and has passed off as her own. It's a huge hit and Mia is relishing in her new found, totally unearned fame. Will Karen discover their affair? Will the world discover the book was plagiarized? Will Mia stop Facebook-ing herself long enough to care?

Becca (played by Madeleine Martin)

Hank and Karen's thirteen-year-old daughter has seen it all — watching her parent's bad breakup and her father's once promising career take a hit has made her wise beyond her years. But, unlike her mother, Becca truly accepts her father for who he is. The women come and go, but Hank's heart truly belongs to his daughter. But Becca's heart is now facing a bit of competition — it's Dad versus her new boyfriend who, coincidentally, is the spitting image of a young Hank. Whether that will be a good or bad thing remains to be seen...

Charlie (played by Evan Handler)

Hank's best friend and agent lived life on the straight and narrow path and spent his free time trying to get Hank to kick his various habits and settle down with a good woman. But it all blew up — cataclysmically — in his face when an affair with his receptionist (among other peccadilloes) was caught on tape, earning him a pink slip and an uncertain future. A chance encounter lands him a new job as an agent to a budding porn star and a new Charlie is born. But his new star client's needs are proving a distraction from trouble brewing in his own home.Marcy (played by Pamela Adlon)

Marcy Runkle never minces words — she's a brash, hard core, unapologetic salon owner who loves her man above all. While Charlie plays it safe as a ten-percenter, Marcy is happy being way out in left field — they are the yin to each other's yang. But life stresses force old habits to re-emerge and Marcy hits a proverbial bump in the road. She trusts her husband unequivocally, but is too busy wrestling demons to notice how involved he has become with his hot new client.

The Amazing Race Season 13

2008-09-28T22:04:00.000-07:00

The Amazing Race is one of my favorite shows on TV, and I'm looking forward to this new season #13. Show times on CBS Sundays 8:00pm ET/PT.

The show travels around the world showing the beauty and uniqueness of foreign countries and cultures, it's got the game element, it has the big brother reality TV component (how well do the teams work together under pressure?), and then there's the once in a lifetime factor that you get to experience with this group of people. Most of the couples even when eliminated will tear up and be thankful for the experience. And of course us viewers can go along for the ride sitting on our couches (and hopefully get motivated to travel and experience those things first hand).

What's the show about?

Eleven teams will compete in THE AMAZING RACE 13, traveling over 30,000 miles, spanning five continents, in 23 days, all starting from the world famous Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, site of the 1932 and 1984 Olympics.

The 13th installment will feature a variety of firsts, including: Teams traveling to a real-life water world where its inhabitants live upon a floating city; first time visits for the Race to locations such as Cambodia and Kazakhstan. The cast features couples in various stages of their lives - married beekeepers who have been together for years, a married but separated couple who is looking to rebuild their marriage, a newly dating couple who is still getting to know each other and best friends who are comic book aficionados and describe the Race as "the ultimate game on the biggest game board you can imagine.."

LA Library limits book loan time

2008-09-27T23:19:00.000-07:00

I had meant to write about this in July when our neighborhood librarian notified me, but you may have already noticed that LA's public libraries are only allowing books to be checked out for 2 weeks at a time (vs. the 3 weeks that they gave in the past). The reason for the change being they felt it would free up more books to be available. (Plus all those late fees wracking up).

With all our banking woes, the housing market, and the economy in general - it doesn't seem as significant does it? But it does mean that cut backs are showing up all over the place - even at the public library. And since my family's always checking out books from the public library, I just have to keep better tabs on returning all those books on time (or pony up the late fees).

Wine

2008-09-27T14:57:00.000-07:00

"...in moderation is a vital element in the fellowship among human beings and a sense of enlivened connectedness."
-noted on the wine description sheet at last night's wine tasting at Colorado Wine Company