Apparently this floating 10 foot high diving dock was not the most dangerous thing in the property this weekend.

Airport Moves

Smooth Operator

April

Photo credit: L.Soriano

Happy Birthday To Steve

Who Knew Tabata Could Be So Dangerous?

Steve and I have started doing Tabata exercises together. Tabata is a work out style that consists of a series of 20 second quick bursts of repetitive exercises with 10 second rests. It's so speedy that beware, sometimes a head gets cracked in the process. (He actually had to attend a memorial service with his hair combed down.)

Open

I did not know that the word Cacophony is pronounced:
Kuh-cough-uh-nee.
Up until today I pronounced it: Kako-Phoney.

Whenever I discover that I've mispronounced a word, I get embarrassed.
I know that the embarrassment comes from my ego.
I associate mispronouncing words or grammatical errors with being not very bright.
This is a flawed way of thinking--as linguistic intelligence is only one part of the multiple intelligence theory.  Not to mention often times, it is a matter of accents and regional variations. Throw in mother tongue and intonations, one must realize that this is not a good measure of intelligence.

When I stop being critical of other people's grammar and/or manner  of speech,
then I will cease to be afraid of making mistakes of my own.
Much more learning happens when we keep ourselves open.
In short, we learn faster and better in the absence of ego.
Not just in language but in life.

This Post Is About Promposals, John Mellencamp and What I am Willing To Bet

Let me backtrack.

I was engaged and married in 1993.
When Steve asked me to marry him, I think it was the dead of winter, and we were in the back room of my sister's house in Rochester, New York.
As I recall, he sort of mumbled something about marriage and then unceremoniously handed me an engagement ring.
(In his defense, my visa was expiring...)

As the years went on, I would meet more and more couples who had an "engagement story."
Scavenger hunts through a park (granted, that couple is now peacefully divorced)
Rings in drinks,
Big signs,
Oceanside or lakeside even pond-side proposals, etc.
And like the whiner that I can be, I would turn to Steve with narrowed accusatory eyes wondering why he could not have been more creative.
He would shrug unapologetic.

The thing is, some chicks dig that.
The question is, when do you give someone what they want, even if it is not your true nature?
When should you honor yourself?

The other night, Steve and I watched John Mellencamp in concert.
We were worried that he would sing unfamiliar songs from his newest album and save his old hits for the end, but we were not disappointed.
Early in his set, John said something along the lines of,
"the next song I am going to sing, I don't really want to sing, in fact I don't know why I am going to sing it except for the fact that you all want me to sing it..."
Then he started to sing "Jack and Diane."
The crowd went wild. The entire place started singing along with him.
He stopped singing and let the audience continue....until EVERYONE (except Steve, who knew) sang the wrong verse!
So he stopped everyone and said: "that's not right."
(everyone ((except Steve)) forgot the 'suckin' on chili dog' verse.

It was extremely funny.

Anyway, I digress.
I bring this up because clearly John Mellencamp weighs what he wants to do with what is wanted of him, and apparently with the right balance--it keeps people loyal.

Let's set that aside.

Have you noticed the craze of promposals lately?
If you've not had a prom going teenager for the past 3.5 years then you would not know what this is.
A promposal is the current trend of asking someone to go the the prom in an extravagant, flamboyant and creative fashion.
I have had the "pleasure" of hosting one such promposal when K helped a boy (friend) ask a girl (friend) of hers right here in my foyer.

When I first heard of promposals, I admit I was initially scornful and dismissive of it.
And then I decided to look deeper into why I felt this way, and I realized that it touched something tender in me.
I think I was still carrying my own (this is embarrassing, I know) disappointment about not getting a creative proposal over 21 years ago! (WTH?!)

Well any drugstore shrink will tell you that you can not get over anything you do not acknowledge so I  take this as a sign of onward movement.
And as a result of upward mobility,  I have now decided to view the trend of promposals as some sort of a training ground.
The promposal type of teenagers today,  may become the more celebratory engaged couples of tomorrow (as opposed to the blase`-too-cool-to-be-demonstrative-types)--who may become the grown adults of the future that will honor their spouses/children/parents/friends in a way the recipients want to be honored.

I am willing to bet that the teenaged boy of today that steps out of his comfort zone to do a creative promposal will mature into a man that honors not only his own mother but  also his wife (if she is a mother) for Mother's Day in a way they would appreciate.

I ain' agin' it 

(that's my slang for: "I am not against it" please try to incorporate this phrase in daily conversations as I would like it to trend)

In the words of John Mellencamp:

"Hold on to sixteen as long as you can,
changes come around real soon
make us women and men...."

Addendum:

First Post Of 2015

I did not know that I enjoy biscotti.

But apparently I do. 

I am not worried since I have been exercising everyday since the new year began.

Everyday.

My friend SL informed me that everything we do on the first of the year must be something we want to be able to do through out the rest of the year.

So on January 1st, I made the effort to stay away from my biscotti stash.

Also I set goals for myself and exercising everyday was one of them.

I don't mean a full blown daily work out. 

Some days it's a 30 to 45 minute run or a 20 minute walk or just 10 crunches. 

Everything counts when it comes to making exercising a habit. 

I have discovered that I need exercise in order to stay upright.

I have been meditating and praying every single day.

I've also been clearing my home of unnecessary belongings.

My goal is to donate items every single week.

The moment I pick out a donation item, I move it to my porch to await pick up by the Veterans.

I am trying to shed my practical nature of saving something I might potentially want in the future.

I am trying to live in the present moment.

The act of sorting through and letting go of material possessions is very therapeutic by the way.

For each bag or box I am able to give away, there seems to be a release of emotional baggage as well.

~~~~~

In less than a month Steve is turning 50.
The process of trying to clear out my home has, alas, turned it upside down and inside out.
The expression, sometimes you have to break something in order to fix it is quite true.
Unfortunately, Steve's milestone is not going to wait for me to finish my house overhaul, and so amidst all this, I am planning a party for him.
The problem is, I have not thrown a party in years. I am rusty.
I am focusing on not giving in to feelings of overwhelm.
I know that if I were to act remotely taxed or stressed, then that would not feel good for Steve.
So I just keep daily small goals:
-Dechristmasing the house completely (yesterday, I put away the decorations at the property and this morning, I took down the last of the outside lights and garlands of our home here).
-Researching food and drink options.
-Texting invites, etc.
-Clearing out stuff, including polishing off the last of the biscotti.

~~~~~
We made an unplanned visit to our property yesterday.
Just a day trip.
The girls were interested in searching for a frozen pond to skate on, while Steve wanted all of us to hike through the snow in search of a dead bear we had heard about.
I had been feeling slightly off recently and in an effort to do something
"as a family," we decided to jump into the car and go.
We found both, a patch of frozen in the woods that the girls skated on, and the dead bear.
Natural ice rink, lovely.
Dead bear, not too lovely.

~~~~~
A few days ago, I found out that the little girl I had been praying for since last month, died in her mother's arms.
I was heartbroken.
So in an effort to stay mentally healthy, I decided to just keep on cleaning out my house.
When prayer or exercise is not enough, occupational therapy is good.

While sorting through the bowels of this house I bumped into old photos, which gave me the idea to start a 50th birthday picture collage.
It was while I was looking through Steve's old photos that I found this:

A picture of him as a four year old boy standing to the right of that red feather Christmas tree.

There was something about the death of the little girl and finding this particular photo of Steve that switched something in me.
First, I realize how precious life is and that is a gift to be able to celebrate 50 years (especially for Steve, who as a young boy was not given a good prognosis due to kidney disease)
And then second, yesterday, when I was putting away the Christmas decorations at the hunting place, I found myself not just tolerating the red feather Christmas tree, but loving it.
Loving it.
Somehow, seeing this red tree survive life reassures me that some things are just meant to be.

21.

It was a very full and beautiful day.
A run.
An answered prayer.
An absolutely delicious celebration at Umi.

The Odds

What are the odds that I would be looking for an old tooth brush to scrub the stubborn dirt in the grout of my bathroom?

What are the odds of my finding anything in our haystack of a bathroom closet? (it is too awful that I can't even post a picture)

Yet I stumbled upon a lost wedding ring while trying to find a tool to help me with a task that I don't normally do.

The odd thing is, I found this ring today after a slightly ugly exchange I had with Steve last night.
We had a bit of a dispute regarding "policies and procedures."

I told him that my one wish for my family was that we would become closer to each other and become God-centered.
(okay that was two.)
And then not two minutes later I told him to "eff off."

What on earth!!??
Clearly I had misplaced the Holy Spirit.
It happens.
Just like his misplaced wedding ring.

When he thought he lost it a few weeks ago at the property, I handed him his original wedding ring from 20 years ago. (nice try)

I told him that since I loved those rings we bought at an arts festival, that I would pray that it will turn up. 

Again, as always--he doubted we would see it again.

We made up before sleeping last night but when I woke up,  I felt lousy as I was replaying that exchange.
So lousy that I kinda cried about it to my friend SL, before I decided to keep praying and scrubbing my bathroom.
You can only imagine my pleasant surprise when I accidentally stumbled upon the ring that Steve was convinced was lost in the woods 90 miles away.

Not only was this ring under a heap of rags, cleaning supplies, plastic bags, a vomit bucket, a mop, a toilet plunger and other odds and ends but it was also sitting IN an empty soap dish!
(meaning it did not roll in, or get kicked in accidentally after slipping off his finger)

What are the odds that I would find a symbol of unity after last night?
As Steve likes to say: "one in three."

Mother's Day 2014 And An Indy 500

My heart was threatening to close.
But when Steve offered to take the girls to attend our nephew's First Communion in Indianapolis so I could relax here by myself--my heart opened right back up and I decided to go.
And it was not the power of reverse psychology either.
I suddenly remembered all I learned recently from the book Untethered Soul.

If we stop qualifying the conditions that will make us happy, we can actually choose to be in a constant state of happiness. We can make the choice to make happiness unconditional.

So I decided to refocus on making the 740-ish mile roundtrip an opportunity for family bonding instead of focusing on how deliciously relaxing the solitude of staying home sounded.
Energy grows when you choose to keep your heart open. I am telling you.
How to keep the heart open?
Answer:
When you feel your split personality reminding you of
"what you don't enjoy" --turn away from it.
That voice that constantly reminds you of what you don't like is an energy zapper.
It is like a passive-aggressive friend that you must either get rid of,  or regulate exposure to.

Focus on what you want.

I want to be with my family.
I want my children to honor family.

On our way home yesterday, my mind was at peace despite having to pry my fingers off the dashboard.
Steve's record breaking Indianapolis to Pittsburgh in 5 hours pushed me into deep prayer.
I reflected on Steve's Korean sister.
Despite the fact that she processes information differently, she gets around this and is truly committed to being the best mother she can possibly be for her 9 year old son, her Jungle Boy-like 4 year old and her precious 2 year old daughter.
I am in awe of her husband, an immigrant from Nepal --who works long hours in a gas station--who just recently moved his family into their first house.
A beautiful brand new home.
I am truly wowed by him and his open heart.

And then just when I thought being safely back home last night was sweet enough,
(Full disclosure: I was making a choice not to be hurt about my family not honoring mother's day for the second time in a row) they surprised me with this:

I went to sleep last night with my heart wide open, not because of what they gave me (but it did bring tears to my eyes) but because I realize that it is the only choice to make if one is to experience peace and happiness.

Navigating An Awkward Load

While on vacation,  I rented a stand-up paddle board from a place called West Coast Kayak.
My idea was to be able to paddle out early in the morning and let my family sleep in.
It was a good idea until the board was delivered in the evening.
Do you know that Stand-up paddle boards do not fit in elevators?
I did not know that.

Steve had to carry this thing for me up to the fourth floor.
It is extremely awkward to maneuver an 11' 4" (over 45 lbs) paddle board through a narrow stairwell
and into Simon's condo. And it isn't really a two man job, especially if the other man is a weak woman.
And then he had to take it downstairs for me in the morning too (so much for sleeping in).
But he never complained.
Not once.

Yet I complained last week when I had to take our car in to be serviced again for another pothole he hit.
(for anyone keeping score, that's the sixth tire ruined since February of this year.)
I was frustrated, and premenstrually human.
Yet he never complains about me.
Even when my actions cause pain--like broken nose, pain.
Next time, I won't complain anymore.

May The Fourth Be With You: Part II

At 5 pm, we took Kika to CMU to practice high jump for a meet she has tomorrow.
While Kika was putting on her track shoes, Steve decided to jump.
He made it look so easy--
So of course I decided to try jumping too.

It is not easy.

I landed on the practice stretchy crossbar and ended up making both base stands that were holding it in place, collapse.

Steve instinctively stepped on the base to "right" it and in doing so-the pole part of the stand ended up smacking him in the nose.
And that is how he ended up with an extremely bloody face and a broken nose.








(photo taken and posted with his permission)

So instead of Kika getting to practice, we ended up leaving immediately to take him to Urgent care.
As we were walking out--Steve was holding a balled up sweatshirt to catch the blood streaming down his face--
He said to Kika:
"note for next time, let's not bring your mother to high jump practice."

Oh and About That

Remember when we were on our way back from our ski trip to Simon's place and we got a flat tire a couple of miles from our house?
Well I never wrote about what happened next.
On the morning I was scheduled to get the tire repaired, our car keys went missing.
As it turned out, they were "mysteriously" locked in the car, while the spare keys were an hour away.

While it was happening in real time, I decided to disengage from my feelings of irritation and impatience and just peacefully meditate.
I figured I would tackle my list of things to "Grip--Relax--and Release"
I reminded myself of how every single disturbance in life can bring us closer to Peace, IF we let it--by doing the work needed. (which is by doing that grip-relax-release thing)

The fact is, I was annoyed.
I felt that Steve had been driving too fast and it is why we got a flat tire when we hit a pothole.
And when the missing car keys derailed the repair process, it almost put me over the edge.
But it didn't.
Instead I meditated on the idea that God is in control.
Then I proceeded to pray for the usual people, places and things that I pray for daily.
And in the interest of remaining focused, I actually wrote down my thoughts and prayers in a notebook that I keep in my "peace corner."
One of the last things I wrote was: "and I pray that the car repair is not expensive."

Unlike my "old self", I was calmly able to reschedule the car appointment and I was also able to guard my tongue against berating Andretti.
Once the car was in the shop,  I waited curiously.
When the service advisor called me,  he told me that it was not just one damaged tire but TWO.
But then he told me that he went ahead and called the tire company--since we had just purchased those tires a month ago--and that they were going to replace both tires free of charge.

When I relayed this information to Steve, he incredulously asked,
"why??? Its not their fault I hit the pothole."
I told him that I prayed that it would not be too expensive of a fix (like rim damage etc) but I was not expecting that kind of an answered prayer.
(Steve just looked at me rather dubiously. He is not super sold on this prayer thing...yet)
As for me, I am a believer.
Not because of two tires but because of the connection I feel between prayer and peace.

Anyway--last night Steve called me on his way home from a dinner about 45 minutes away.
He said, "you are not going to believe this but I hit another pothole and have two flat tires again."
So I called our roadside assistance service to get him towed.
They said it would take 90 minutes for them to get to him.
Steve asked me to pray that it would not take 90 minutes.
I prayed.
The tow truck came in FIVE minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~

I recently told my children this.

When you give a gift to someone and they don't thank you, do you feel like giving that person another gift?
They said no.
I said: Well that is how it is with God too.
So when you appreciate something, especially after you've prayed for it, be sure to thank God.

~~~~~~~~~~

This morning, Steve and I both went for a dental check-up after getting our car set up for repair (again).
That in itself is a miracle all on its own because Steve had somehow let 16+ years go by since his last check up (he is an anti-dentite).
Three days ago he told me that he had a funny sensation in his mouth.
Considering his chewing tobacco habit and his long absence from the dentist's chair, it was enough for him to be concerned.
I immediately solicited the girls' prayers and we prayed for two things:
1. that whatever was bothering his mouth would be nothing serious (with a capital C) and
2. that this would get him back into the dental care system.

As fate would have it, I had an appointment scheduled for today and because it is hard to get an appointment with the dentist I see (CK can attest to this)--I opted to "give" Steve my slot.
(they ended up squeezing me back in)

My prayers were answered again today.
Our two tires are being replaced, again, for free. (fyi, I actually did not ask God for free tires, I merely asked that His Will be done about those dratted tires)
Steve felt comfortable with my dentist and now has another appointment scheduled in a few weeks and it is nothing life-threatening bothering his mouth, just a wisdom tooth.
And speaking of wisdom, I am hoping that Steve's propensity for potholes will give him the wisdom to slow down.
I am believing that Steve's tire mishaps are part of that bigger picture I was talking about recently--and that he is being redirected away from something worse.

Again I am thankful.
Although I am no longer surprised at the synergy between prayer and product, I am never going to feel diminished awe.

We played In A Parents vs Varsity

Volleyball game last night.
For the first time ever, I witnessed Steve exhibit some "Harlem Globe Trotteresque Volleyball Edition" moves that really made me chuckle and burst with misplaced pride.
The head bumps, pancake dives, tips, rejection blocks and unanswerable spikes made the girls' coach comment that Steve plays volleyball with the same intensity as Kramer beating nine-year-olds in Karate.

I am still laughing at that comment.

Grateful For Twenty

Water Logged and Saved Dog

And the summer ends.




proof that we went camping.

May 5, 2013

Before 13.1

After 13.1

10.77 Mile Birthday Run

It is my longest run so far--and I ended up running solo.
I ran in honor of my 46th birthday.

The previous evening was spent sitting at a Panera's plotting my route with Stephanie.
Although she had no desire to run with me, she was interested in directing my path.
We had several options but we decided that I would allow my heart to lead me when I started my run.

~~~~~~~~~~

I ran past the school where I worked at for almost 12 years.
I ran past Carole's old house.
I ran past Julie's new house.
I ran close to where our children go to school.
On mile 1,  Kathleen drove by as I made the turn towards the park where our children run cross-country.
She yelled: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!
I ran by Gabi's gymnastics school.

I ran through a not too pretty section of town.

I ran past Suzanne's old house.

I ran to my brother Ayo's house (no one was home) and traced a note on the dust coating his garage window:
Chesca was here.
With the dirt on my finger, I further vandalized his garage keypad with my name:
Chesca.
(I wanted to be sure that they found it.)

I ran all the way to the first apartment that Steve and I rented right after we got married.
We lived on the 7th floor.
Since hot air rises, we never had to turn on our heater.
Which was good, since we could hardly afford heat at that point.
I used to stand out on the balcony and wave to him every morning as he drove off to work.

On mile 6 of my run, Ernie drove by and waved at me.
(He did not know it was my birthday)
He and Suzanne worked together at that very last place I did a bit of work for in 2009.
(That was the year that my dad died.)
I ran across a bridge through the park where my mother, Steve, my dog junior and very-pregnant-I got lost.
Kika seriously labor-pained me to be born as we panicked our way out of the woods.
It was a false alarm.
I ran past a cemetery that the girls and I used to frequent.
They loved catching frogs in the cemetery pond.
I am deathly afraid of frogs.

On mile 8, I ran through the first business district I explored when I arrived in Pittsburgh 20 years ago.
I used to spend hours and hours examining American products.
It is right near the apartment Steve lived in before we were married.
(I ran by that too.)
Sweaty and kind of tired at this point, I ran into two lovely moms from the kids' school.
Kelly and Holly were out and about,  exercising.
(I told them it was my birthday, and forced them to greet me)
They cheered me on and gave me a burst of energy to run a little bit more than the intended 10 miles.

I ran by Carnegie Mellon University.
We are going there tonight to watch Kika and Gabi's very first piano recital.
I am a bit nervous about this event..
I prayed for a good performance.

I prayed like crazy while running 10.77 miles.

I prayed all throughout my run.

I am grateful that my friend Donna encouraged me to run 10 miles on my birthday.
I am grateful to be alive.
I am grateful for my family.
I am grateful for my friends.

I am grateful.

Hey Nineteen