A Toast to Me!

I just spent a great weekend with my family celebrating Christmas.  As usual, my mom did an amazing job with the food and everyone was in great spirits.  A new tradition that my little brother and his wife have started is breakfast on Christmas morning – this year I was asked to bring a dish and it turned out pretty darn good if I may say so myself .

Anyways, during the morning we got into a conversation about a friend of our who recently paid his debt to society and is now out trying to re-enter the world.  He’s far from perfect and has a long way to go, but he says that he’s taking it day by day — I really hope he is.

My sister-in-law commented on how he made her feel uncomfortable on a recent visit — nothing that he did in particular, just his presence.  She said that she didn’t know why, and she gets that she doesn’t know him very well, so it was just a feeling.  I, on the other-hand, grew up with him.  I explained to her that growing up, he was always vying for attention — and any attention was good attention to him, even if it was bad.  But that despite all of his many many flaws, I respected that he was a man of his word.

Enter another mutual friend, one that is very close to her and my little brother.  This “friend” is one who is known to take advantage of situations and of people. I personally don’t think he is a good person because he is a proven liar.  My brother and sister-in-law insist that to know him is to love him.  I, on the other hand, still classify him as a man of no integrity because his word means nothing.

I have known both of these men, my friend and theirs, all of their natural lives – which is now around 30 years.

So which is a better person?  My brother insists that their friend is the better one because he has not been in jail and does not illicit an intimidating air.  I, on the other hand, feel that my friend is a man of his word, and therefore is a man of some integrity.  I guess it comes down to trying to define what makes a person one of quality.

I think it’s fair to say that we will probably never agree on who is the better person.  I wish my friend luck and strength to continue to take things day by day and to hopefully make good decisions.   As for their friend, I wish him well as well.

General, Random, Reflections

I’m a little sad.  I’m sad because I realized this evening that one of my dearest friends and I are just not connecting.  I’m not sure when this happened, but I think that it must have been recent.  I’ve noticed that she and I can’t seem to have a conversation without one of us getting defensive.  It was recently compared to oil and water or a married couple who just doesn’t know how to communicate without bickering.

This hurts because my friends really mean the world to me.  My first impulsive says to go up and talk to her, to ask her what’s wrong.  But I realize that the timing isn’t right.  It’s not right because the conversation would no doubt go something like this:

me:  Are you mad at me?
friend: Why would I be mad at you?
me: I don’t know, I feel like you may be mad at me and I’m not sure what I did.
friend: we’re fine
me: ok

But what I would really be thinking is — what do I do now?  how do I fix this because there is obviously something wrong, otherwise it wouldn’t be this awkward.

If you know me… like REALLY know me, this kind of situation causes me to retreat.  I start to wonder if my presence is wanted or I start to think that by staying away then I won’t escalate the situation – whatever the “situation” is.  I makes me second guess my words, my thoughts, my actions.  Sometimes it’s just easier to retreat, but she is someone I consider on of my best friends, so I really don’t want to retreat.  I guess I just wish I knew how to fix this –  I guess I wish that I knew why we’ve suddenly start to speak different languages.

General, Reflections friends

April 9, 2009

A year ago, about 22 hours shy of being to the day, The Loose Goose Wine Society, Wine Festival, and Private Wine Cellar officially announced the closing of the doors.  How sad it is to remember.  Up until the last minute I was go go go, but it was on April 9th that I finally sat down and shed a tear at the realization that this amazing company was going to exist only in memory.

This is what the flock put together - Good times!

I remember first meeting Peter, the founder of The Loose Goose, at a Jaycee membership meeting.  Who knew that the brief introduction made by April would eventually turn out to be an introduction to The World According To Goose.  You see in Goose’s world, the goal is to enjoy the little things in life in a really big way.  The Loose Goose Wine Festival was proof of that.  I had the pleasure of being a part of the festival twice – once as a volunteer, and then last year as a PROUD member of the “Flock”.  There’s a saying that states “the proof is in the pudding”, well at the Loose Goose Wine Festival the proof was in the faces of the guests — their smiles wide, their glasses empty, their friends near, the music playing, the wine itself and later at the “decompression party”.

Just yesterday at work I was recounting some of the preparation that was made for the events leading up to the festival.  For those of you who received invitations to the Loose Goose Gala, all I can say is that I had fun watching Peter perform surgery on that pillow in effort to get enough feathers to fill the invitation boxes.  If you’d been a fly on the wall, you would have seen the preparation made – complete with mask across the face while the pillow was marked and then dissected.  Somewhere Arnie has a picture.  We all laughed as we watched and of course it was only later that we realized that our guests would probably hate us for stuffing their invitation boxes with feathers – but that they would know that it was all in the spirit of fun.  Like that guy who called and said that he opened up the box in the car with the air conditioning on and the feathers blew everywhere — I raise a glass to you for laughing about it.

My "desk" was the wine rack just to the left of the image. How many people get to work over a rack of wine?

I didn’t always know how fun it would be.  Actually it was quite the opposite at the beginning.  I had made a life change, moved and started working for The Loose Goose, but I really didn’t know where I would fit in.  It took a few months of uncertainty for me to devise a plan to ensure my longevity in the company.  In listening to Peter explain wines, I realized that there were more bottles that needed their stories shared – so I started to learn about the wines we carried in the cellar.  Who knew, especially at that time, that it would have had such a profound affect on my life.  It was Peter who took the time to share his knowledge of wines with me and who gave me the opportunity, and the venue, to learn about the magic of the grapes, and of their stories.

I can go on and on about my experiences at The Loose Goose, and maybe one day I will take my experiences and bind them together for the world to see.  In the meantime, some are already here and I’m sure more will come.  I am proud to have had the opportunity and the privilege to work for a company such as The Loose Goose where, yes, the hours were long, the pay was sometimes in wine, but the smiles were in abundance, the audience was appreciative, the love was evident and the passion was infectious.

Cause that's how we roll

Peter, I know that today is hard, but it is your dream that was shared and impacted the lives of

countless people.  Your heart is big, your taste in wine is exquisite, your accent is charming and your lessons in pronunciation are forever present in my mind.  Like the phoenix that rises from the ashes, I know that The Goose will lead the flock back into formation.  When you’re ready to rise, as a member of the flock, I will be there.

Reflections, The Loose Goose, Wine Loose Goose, Wine, Wine Festival

Today I find myself doing a lot of cleaning in preparation for my impending move and I came across a copy of the Yahoo! Hotjobs section of the Daily News from October 4th.  There George Gurney writes a section called Dear Headhunter, which is essentially an advise column, similar to the Dear Abbey columns I grew up with, except it’s focus is centered on jobs and careers.  Anyways, I don’t usually keep these sections because they’re no longer as information packed as they once where – but on this day, I chose to keep it.

After sharing a quote by Jim Ryum, “Motivation is what gets you started. Habit is what keeps you going.”, Mr Gurney encourages his readers to take a closer look at their habits and ask, are they positive or negative?

I know that I have many habits that I work at changing.  Sometimes I’m successful, othertimes not so much.  But the following poem that Mr. Gurney shared really made me think about the power that a positive, and a negative,  habit can have over me.  Here is it for you to read and hopefully to make you take a closer look at your own habits:

I am your constant companion.
I am your greatest helper or your heaviest burden.
I will push you onward or drag you down to failure.
I am completely at your command.
Half the things you do, you might as well turn over to me,
And I will be able to do them quickly and correctly.
I am easily managed; you must merely be firm with me.
Show me exactly how you want something done,
And after a few lessons I will do it automatically.
I am the servant of all great men
and, alas, of all failures as well.
Those who are great, I have made great.
Those who are failures, I have made failures.
I am not a machine, though I work will all the precision of a machine
Plus the intelligence of a man.
You may run me for profit, or run me for ruin;
It makes no difference to me.
Take me, train me, be firm with me
And I will put the world at your feet.
Be easy with me, and I will destroy you.

Who am I?

I am HABIT!

-Author Anonymous

Reflections habit, Reflections

As I was looking through this morning’s paper, one section caught my attention so much that I even tweeted about it.  The tweet, and the section (paraphrased), simply stated:  ”Today is Wed., Nov 22nd, 322 day of the year.  There are 43 days left in 2009″.  My first reaction was wow, only 43 days left and I have a lot to do still.  I mean I’ve got emails to finish, thank you cards to send out, Christmas shopping to do, memberships to report, a plan of action to write for the SCV Jaycees, a plan of action to finish for the CA Jaycees, my own plan of action to review, a niece (Taelyn) to welcome into the world within the next week or so, start my new job, pack my belongings, move… and the list can go on and on.  I am the type of person that always looks forward – at the opportunity, at the possibility that life brings.  But in order to fully appreciate everything that is in store for these next 43 days, I’ve decided to take a step back and look at the last 322 days.

This year has been a particularly challenging one – so much more so than the last few.  I started the year working for a company I adore and then was there to unfortunately help close the doors 4 months later.   I started off this year with a place I could call home, and today I find myself dreading the packing process to move out.  I started off this year swearing that I would let an organization that I had lost a little faith become what it may, only to step in as President because the course of events reminded me of how much I truly care about the future of the California Junior Chamber.

This year I lost a couple of friends due to differences, but I made new ones.  I’ve maintained hope, albeit there were days that just seemed to look so dreary, and that hope eventually opened new doors.  I’ve looked to my family and friends more times than I would have liked to – but it was them that reminded me that good things are just over the horizon.

Today I find myself reflecting.  And, in the Spirit of Thanksgiving, which is a mere 8 days away, I find myself thankful for my family and my friends.  Thankful for the opportunities that have surfaced out of the challenges 2009 presented.  I find myself looking forward to the next chapter in my life and content in the knowledge that 2010 also offers new opportunities yet to be discovered.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Reflections family, reflection

Adversity is one of those things that builds character.  It tests our boundaries and takes us back to those basic rules we all learned in kindergarten.  You know – those little tiffs out on the playground with the school bully? He/She says something mean to me or pushes me.   Do I fight back?  Do I sit back and watch?  Do I act?  or do I react?

I’ve fought back, actually pulled little Penny’s braid right out of her hair one day out on the playground when she made fun of the dress I was wearing in 1st grade.  I didn’t even get in trouble.  I think the teacher was so surprised that she really wasn’t sure what to do.  That marked the end of my fighting days — because I felt bad – and yet I felt better.  Hmm, a dichotomy if I ever heard of one.

I’ve sat back an said nothing.  Actually watched a classmate pass out after the wind was knocked out of him by another in the 3rd grade.  When asked about it, I said.. well nothing.  I felt mad, but then again, I was relieved that I wasn’t being asked anymore questions. Another dichotomy.

Amazingly enough everytime I am presented with adversity, I have to stop and decide my course of action.  Fortunately for me, each experience teaches me some type of valuable life lesson.  They have helped, and continue to elp,  me become the person I am.  Truth be told, I don’t like adversity, but I do appreciate learning from it.  Hmm, would that be considered yet another dichotomy?

Reflections Reflections

I’m one of those people that can watch a movie over and over again.  Not just any movie, mind you.  It has to be a “feel good” movie.  One that makes me smile.  One where I can follow along without having to actually watch the movie.  It’s a movie that can serve as a “go-to” when there’s nothing on TV, or when I just want to track time.  And, if it has music in it, all the better!

Right now I’m watching one of those movies as I catch up with some Jaycee work.  The choice — Mamma Mia!  I have to say that I LOVE this movie.  I love the musicality of it.  Listening to the music takes me back to a Christmas morning when I was a kid.  My family isn’t much into stocking stuffers, but this was the one and only year that my brother and I had a stocking full of knick-knacks.  In my stocking — a brand new 8-track tape of ABBA’s Greatest Hits!  Yes!    Ok, first off, yes I did say 8-track tape.  Secondly, it was ABBA!   I can’t tell you how many times I went around the house singing

Chiquitita, dime por que
tu dolor hoy te encadena
en tus ojos hay
una sombra de gran pena.

or

Mamma mia, here I go again
My my, how can I resist you?
Mamma mia, does it show again?

I would make my brother sing with me as well — he was such a good sport.  Truth be told, he’s a great sport to this day!  I remember that Christmas morning like it was yesterday and I must have been maybe 6-7 years old?

Like I said earlier, my family isn’t really into stocking stuffers.  But to this day I thank Santa for that one Christmas where ABBA appeared hanging on the chimney wall.  When i hear their music, I immediately “feel the beat from the tambourine”.  I immediately remember running over to my dad’s stereo and playing it over and over again.  I don’t know what ever happened to that tape, it was probably sold at some garage sale or other. And whereas I’ve always considered replacing it with a cassette tape, and then a CD, and now downloads on iTunes — I’ve never replaced it.  Today I have Mamma Mia on the television as background.  I may buy the movie, I should, but I don’t know if I will.  There’s something special about being taken back to your childhood at random — and it’s a beautiful feeling.

Reflections family, Memories

Dear _____,

Is it wrong to expect you to do what you said you were going to do?

Is it too much to ask for you to communicate?

Is it crazy to expect you to keep promises?

Is it really necessary to insult me — especially when you are the one that is in the wrong?

I think NOT!

You say I have no perspective?  Yet you are the one that is incapable of seeing how your actions affect others.

I am angry with myself for having believed in you.

Signed,

Me.

</end rant>

Reflections

I was 3 years old when my parents bought this house. Some may claim that I was too young, but I swear I remember the day my parents brought my older brother and I to the house the first time.  There was a rainbow outside and when an adult (could have been mom, dad, abuela, abuelo?) took my brother and I by the hand and we crossed the street, I saw the rainbow frame our house.  I remember that day and it was a perfect day.

For the next 6 years my brother and I shared a room.  I’m not sure why, there are plenty of bedrooms for everyone, but we were fairly inseparable, so I guess sharing a room made sense.  When I was 9, I decided that I wanted my own room — this room.  My mom made me promise that if she bought me my own bedroom set, I could not call for her to come to the room in the middle of the night.  Deal.

We cleaned out what was to be my room and my Dad gave it a fresh coat of paint.  My furniture arrived and my bedroom was made up.  That night was the night that I would be sleeping alone — without my brother and without my mom.  When it came time for bed, I went to MY room and shut the door.  My mom came in and told me that since it still smelled like paint, it would be best if I slept with the door open.  OK I did, but the next night, I shut the door again.  I’ve slept with the door closed ever since.

Today I drove back home to hang with my parents for a couple of days.  There is no question as to where I’d sleep as I’ve always kept my room here… afterall, it’s MY room, my parents gave it to me. The house can be theirs, the room is mine.   This room has been with me my entire life.   I always know that it’s here for me when I need it, or when I don’t.  It’s seen me laugh, cry, yell, dance, sleep, stress, veg-out.  It’s where I feel better when I’m not feeling well and where I can relax after any event.  It’s made me feel safe when I’ve been scared and surrounds me with familiarity when I’m lost.  It’s a place where I am welcome, whether it’s for a day, a night, a week or years.   It has been my private sanctuary since I was 9 years old and it is now what it was then –the safest place on earth for me.

Reflections Dad, family, mom

Sept 2007 at my brother's wedding

In 2001, my dad had a mild heart attack.  It happened 3 days after I placed him on a plane back to California from Texas – he and my older brother came out to help me move into my new house that weekend.  I’ll never forget the phone call my brother made to me.  It was about 2:00 am CST.  My dad dropped my mom at the airport the evening before so she could help me get settled into my house.  The phone rings, I answer and the first words my brother says is… “don’t tell mom I’m calling”.  I tell him, “hey, what’s wrong?”  “it’s dad, he kinda had a heart attack, but don’t tell mom because we don’t want her to worry”.  Mid-sentence, of course, my mom was already in my room saying “what happened?”.  I wasn’t even sure that she had heard the phone ring, but she did.  Later she confessed that she couldn’t sleep because she felt that something was wrong.

I wasn’t able to come home that weekend and to this day I wonder what would have happened if things had gone differently.  My dad, thank our Heavenly Father above, is healthy now.  But it’s interesting because after every disagreement I have with my dad, I immediately think of how I could have lost him that night.

Why am I thinking of this now?  I don’t know to be honest.  I think it’s because I’m going home tomorrow to hang with my parents (and report to jury duty the next day) and I want to brainstorm with him a couple of ideas on what I could do to isolate a portion of the balcony for Corky.

The irony of all of this is that my father and I have butted heads my entire life.  My mom claims that we are “like looking at each other in a mirror” or that we are so alike, we’re like “two parts of same magnet trying to reconnect, but instead we repel.”  One may look at this as negative things — however I feel blessed because although not perfect, I love that he has given me his strength, his creativity, his wit, his innovation, his determination and his stubbornness.  He is the only person in the world that I know who can see something through to completion, regardless of the obstacles along the way.  We may not always agree, and yes there will be more arguments, but together we find a way and we get things done.  Writing this now, I can’t bear to think what life would be like without my dad.

I love you Papi!

Reflections Dad, Daughter, family