Archive for category Earth

Land Lover

If somehow I wasn’t sure enough before, I think I’m positive now; I absolutely prefer being on land to being in the water. I’m not sure that would have been true several years ago. I grew up on swimming lessons at Calgary’s VRRI (Vocational Rehabilitation and Research Institute) swimming pool. My mom used to take me to lessons ritualistically. Oddly enough, neither of my parents were particularly into swimming. I guess they either wanted me to become a great swimmer one day, or they were just worried that I would drown without these lessons. Nonetheless, I advanced quickly and was at a level ready to receive life-guard certification by the time I was in the fourth grade.

In high school, I passed the mandatory California swimming test with flying colors and even showed off my endurance by swimming a mile at a Boy Scout camp one year. I used to go to the high school swimming pool as a regular summer activity with my little brother and my friend James.

For some reason, over the years, my desire to go to the pool waned. Looking back, it might have because of my weight and my growing insecurities with my body. Perhaps it was the fact that swimming with contact lenses sucks. Or maybe it was just because I spent so much more time doing land-based activities like being in the marching band.

I loved being on boats as a child. Fast-forward to my final year in grad school and my responsibilities as the USC women’s crew sports information director. I had an amazing time heading out onto the water with the head coach to watch our girls row, but still, I couldn’t shake the feeling of just being worried about drowning. Where did this fear come from? I also couldn’t help but try my best not to touch any of the water.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed that I’ve become much more of a mysophobe. I’ve always been a neat freak, but these days, I want to wash my hands so much more often than I used to as a kid. Maybe it’s just because I’m more aware.

Let’s skip ahead to the point at hand. I went jet-skiing for the first time in my life today. While the experience was amazing in and of itself, while I was out on the water, I came to the conclusion that I felt much better about my life with both feet on solid ground. I can still swim just fine; and I had a life-jacket on. For some reason, the immense feeling of freedom on the water also brought on an incredible feeling of fear. I kept on thinking I was about to flip the WaveRunner over or fall into the water. I’m not even sure what was so scary about that, but I couldn’t shake it. I got up to 22MPH just to see if I could handle it, but the thrill of going so fast was quickly replaced by this sinking fear that I could flip over and die. Who knows what is wrong with me, but hey, I have no problems with admitting that I love being on land. I’m a certified land lover; tried and true.

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Slightly Off

I mentioned in my last entry that April and I had recently run the 99th Annual ING Bay to Breakers 12K. Earlier this year, I completed my first 5K run in San Leandro. It was called the Bay Breeze and was actually quite easy compared to our practice outings. For Saint Patrick’s Day, we did a 5K down the shoreline of Alameda, and then in late April, we participated in our first trail run. Luckily, running up and down the hills and knolls of Wildcat Mountain only lasted the distance of a 5K. Initially, we didn’t think we would be able to run the Bay to Breakers race because of a work conflict I had, but when things cleared up, we were able to sign up and legitimately do the run with timing chips on our feet and everything.

So, in all of the aforementioned races, April has consistently crossed the finish line somewhere in the neighborhood of five to seven minutes earlier than I had. Because the Bay to Breakers run was a little less formal, we were together the entire time. I wanted to walk some of the last stretch but we had actually run most of it so she was alongside me, encouraging me to finish in stride. It worked because I was in step with her all the way.

Not for anything more than a little moral victory, I figured we would have the exact same race time. Now, if not for anything more than a little ego deflation, we didn’t. Somehow, she finished one second earlier than I did. I can’t win.


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Right Round

Does anyone out there enjoy round numbers as obsessively as I enjoy round numbers? The volume on my television needs to be five, or ten, or 15, 20, 25; maybe 30. But it cannot be 26, or 7, or 13. Why? The same goes for my credit card. This has to be some sort of diagnosable mental disorder.

Whenever I pay for the bill at restaurants, if it reads $21.21, I will tip $3.79 so that it my final total is $25. It almost doesn’t even matter to me what percentage I am giving so as long as it is some sort of even number. I will always leave 15 percent or above for good service, but there have been times when that percentage hits the 20 or 25 percent make because I’m so randomly careless about rounding up my final total.

The beauty of credit cards is that it allows you to leave whatever amount you would prefer to leave, whenever you would like to do so. I presume that if I were to pay with cash, I would end up leaving whatever coins are returned to me from initially paying the bill and then perhaps a couple of one-dollar bills that make up a fair gratuity. I don’t understand why I have a problem with leaving $4 or $7 for a tip. That actually makes the math a little bit easier.

This also happens to me at the gas station. Again, my credit card allows for some amazing flexibility, but unless I am filling my tank all the way up (usually at Costco), then I will do my best to only purchase $5 or $10. Earlier today, I was at a Shell station in West Oakland and the pumps were incredibly fast. I squeezed and was able to release right at $9.86. I slowly pulled the trigger a couple of times and arrived at $9.99 without too much trouble. My next incredibly light-handed squeeze still put my total at $10.01. I was distraught. I figured I needed the gas anyway so I allowed myself a mulligan and went for $15. This time, I hit it right on the mark and drove away proud of my accomplishment.

How ridiculous is that? I was willing to pay the premium per-gallon cost for Shell gas because I was dead set on hitting a nice round number for my credit card. It’s not as if I can ask a retailer like Banana Republic to charge me a couple of extra cents so that my final receipt reads $100. I am resigned to the fact that my credit card statement will read something like $845.62, yet I try so hard to make sure what I can control, I control.

Today’s experience reminded me of an old American Express spot starring Jerry Seinfeld. In it, he laughs at a gas-station patron who endures a “classic over-squeeze” moment but then has the misfortune of doing the same. But then, what does he do? He whips out the American Express card to pay for his gas and all is well in the world. Why can’t I have that kind of confidence? He’s my hero.

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Classically Trained

As I parked my car at work this morning, I realized that I am classically trained. While I gave up on my music career to pursue keyboards of a different variety, I was reminded this morning that I have been conditioned classically–especially when it comes to my radio.

See, I usually have my AM dial tuned to some sport-talk station and even if the topic is not something I’m interested in, I can roll with it. It’s usually baseball that turns me off by the way, although I won’t turn off the radio when it comes up. Sometimes I’ll have my FM dial to a pop station just to keep up-to-date and fresh with the youth movement. Who am I kidding, right?

Once in a while, I’ll get into either a jazz or classical mood. Usually, when I get in the car, I have to turn the radio on and it’s almost always already tuned to sport-talk. But, since I don’t often listen to jazz or classical music, I like to sort of force myself into a habit when I do get into those moods. What I do is this: I’ll turn the car off while the radio is still on and tuned to my classical station of choice. In LA, there was only one classical station, but up here in SF, I have a couple of choices. It’s been KDFC of late though.

I’m proud to say that I have trained myself to leave the radio on before completely powering down my car so as to have the music come on as soon as I return. My classical training did not come easy, but I’m getting the grasp of it with each new day.

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Hazy Day

The constant rain in the Bay Area and the long weekend has made a real task out of getting back on my regularly scheduled programming. I woke up this morning and was almost positive that it was Saturday. My mind raced to figure out what it was that April and I had planned for the day. Oddly enough, if it were actually Saturday, and if it weren’t raining, I would have to be on campus for a tennis tournament.

Eventually, I realized that it was Wednesday morning and that I had a load of things to do once I arrived at the office. What’s worse is that I thought it was Friday evening after dinner. Of course, when reality struck me in the face and the fact that I had to be at work tomorrow morning (a Thursday) sunk in, I relapsed into the same feeling I had in the morning when I was just completely unsure of what day it was at all.

I actually had a productive day at work and came home only to continue my efficient ways. April and I made dinner so quickly that we were able to watch a two-hour episode of The Biggest Loser before I sat through Yes Man starring Jim Carrey and Zooey Deschanel. It’s not even quite midnight and I’m ready for bed. I can only hope that I don’t wake up tomorrow in the same haze that I woke up with today. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

Pulled Right In

It’s been a rainy weekend here in the Bay Area. The forecast is calling for more rain the rest of the week, too. I’m actually in favor of some rain next Sunday, if it means I can stay home and watch NFL football instead of being out at the tennis courts.

The wet roads scare Californians like you wouldn’t imagine, so it makes for a pretty nasty commute at times. Of course, the fact that April and I haven’t gotten out of the house on time for quite a while now, doesn’t help. This morning, we left Alameda at around 8:45 a.m. and it took about 40 minutes to go four miles to the West Oakland BART station. From there, even though the rain was coming down hard, the road was a little more clear for me to get to campus.

Today is the first day of spring semester classes at the university, so I knew parking was going to be a hit-or-miss situation. I normally park under Haas Pavilion and stay covered all the way to the office. If parking isn’t available, the nearest alternative is down the street in the pouring rain. I drove into the underground parking lot just to at least convince myself that I had tried my best and low and behold, I can see that the parking attendant has already begun to stack-park the late-arriving cars.

I never leave my keys with the parking attendant here at work because it becomes a hassle to have to get downstairs just to retrieve my keys and move my car at 5 p.m. before coming back up for one more hour of work. I’m also uneasy about having someone else operate my temperamental vehicle, so needless to say, without an open parking spot, there aren’t very many alternatives.

Since I was coming back from a long weekend, I had my laptop with me; along with my personal bag, a camera bag, my lunch bag and my Nalgene bottle in hand. Finding a parking spot today would have been more ideal than on any other day. As I rounded the corner of the lot, out of the corner of my right eye, I saw someones reverse lights turn on. I slammed on the brakes and stared for a moment. I wanted to make sure they weren’t just adjusting their initial parking attempt. Then, all of a sudden, the car backed completely out and left the most marvelous sight I had seen all week; an open parking spot. I pulled right in and got my stuff out of the backseat and headed up to the office. My first day back at work off a long weekend could not have started better. I just hope the rest of the week is as fortuitously laid out for me.

Total Steal

Joyce, Christine, Nevaeh and Tristen are in town to visit April and I for the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday weekend. Of course, when with April, go shopping, right? Their first day in town, they spent nearly three hours in the Old Navy store in San Francisco. As if that weren’t enough, after we had dinner at the Bay Street Askew Grill, we stopped by the Old Navy there as well. Let’s just say, there was a whole lot of shopping going on.

When April and I were in Los Angeles last month, we stopped by a Banana Republic store in Burbank to do some Christmas shopping. While she perused the women’s section, I stumbled upon an overcoat that I really liked. This might sound like an ordinary occurrence for most people, but for me, it’s a cause for celebration when I find clothes that I like. Getting me to buy new clothes is like pulling teeth. I don’t like shopping for clothes and prefer to wear what I have in my closet until it has completely decayed.

Forgive me, for I am not a fashion guru, but I will do my best to accurately describe the coat. It is a long, heavy coat; almost like a pea coat. Being a Banana Republic item, it is incredibly soft and comfortable. There were two shades: black and a dark charcoal gray. What caught my eye was the cut and the buttons. It didn’t have traditional pea coat buttons. Rather, it had a zipper and a set of buttons to close down a flap that conceals the zipper. The collar and the straight-line front make it look something like the cut of my wedding tuxedo.

I grabbed one off the rack and put it on. It fit magnificently, so I walked over to April to show it to her. Of course, whenever I do something like that, she lights up and gets excited that I might actually make a purchase. I told her I liked it and that I would consider buying it since we receive a generous discount. I took it off and looked at the price tag. It was $225 at full retail. I figured, after the discount and taxes, we could get it out the door for close to $130. I don’t particularly like spending that much money, but in this case, I was willing. However, after walking around a little longer and picking out gifts for other people, I decided that I should concentrate my efforts and my funds on things for other people since it was indeed Christmas time.

After Christmas passed, we stopped by a couple of Banana Republic stores for various reasons and each time, I looked for that same coat. It was nowhere to be found. I figured it was just out of stock in the stores we stopped in because it was a popular item. Disappointed, April told me that the stores may have begun sending that set of clothes to outlets to make room for the next season. I was sad, but not completely broken up about it. I figured, perhaps I’d be able to find it at an outlet one day. When we arrived back in the Bay, whenever we would pass a Banana Republic while out and about, I would take a look to see if the coat was on the racks. Of course, it wasn’t, but I wasn’t holding out hope or anything at this point.

This weekend, while the group was shopping at the Bay Street Gap store, I decided to hop across the road to take a look at the Banana Republic men’s store there. It was 8:50 p.m. and I only had a couple of minutes to do any damage if at all. I walked in and my eyes began to scan a la April. I scanned the racks of coats and outer wear but had no luck. I began to think, it was really just gone. I continued to walk around and look at what else the store had to offer and eventually found myself at the clearance section in the back.

There were two jackets on the end of a lower rack so I reached out to brush my hand against them. One of them was a dark charcoal gray color and felt a lot like the same material the pea coat was made of. I took it off the rack and low and behold, it was there. The coat was there, and it was in my size! I couldn’t believe my eyes. I quickly looked at the tag and the next miracle hit me in the face. It had been marked down to $89. I was almost sure I was going to get it but I had initially wanted to get the black one. After a little thought, I decided that the dark charcoal gray was also pretty cool and besides, I had nothing of that color in my closet. I don’t know if I was paranoid, but I felt like a fellow shopper was eyeing the coat as I was trying it on so I took it off and excitedly made my way to the cashier.

When it was my turn, I put the coat up on the counter and the clerk began to ring it up. Because I was overly excited, I made small talk to share my experience. April always tells me I’m “madalal”, which means verbose or something close in Tagalog. I’m glad I talked a little more than I needed to this time, because it made my purchase that much sweeter.

I showed the clerk my Gap employee discount card and she rang the jacket up on the screen. It read $67. Then all of a sudden, it went down to $62. Apparently, I hadn’t noticed the “Take an extra 30% off clearance items” sign that was above the coat I picked out. On top of that, I received the Gap employee discount for already-marked-down items and it made the before-tax cost of the coat $56. From $225 to $56. That is remarkable.

Of course, I gushed about how happy I was to have found the coat and the clerk mentioned that I was lucky to have found it because it was a very popular piece. I could tell she was happy that I had snagged it at such a great price as well. Then came the kicker. She told me that a seasonal employee at that particular Banana Republic store had put the coat on hold during his tenure there but had never come back to claim it. His hold time had expired and she had just put that very coat back on the rack earlier in the day. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

I had just luckily stumbled upon a coat that I really wanted and I picked it up for an incredible price. The clerk reached for a hanger and was about to put it and the coat into a bag for me to take but I stopped her and said, “Oh. I don’t need a bag. I want to wear the coat out,” to which she volunteered to cut off the tags and extra thread for me. I put my old jacket into the bag and wrapped myself in perhaps one of the top 10 deal purchases in my life and walked out of the store. I made my way across the road once more and surprised April with it on as I walked back into the Gap. Her jaw dropped when she saw it and dropped again when she heard my story about how the coat had returned to the rack and about how I had gotten it for such a great price. I couldn’t be more happy with that purchase. It really was a total steal.

For the Love of the Library

April and I went to the Alameda Free Library yesterday evening and each signed up for our own library cards. It was something we had been wanting to do for quite some time. We had set foot in the building one other time to inquire about what the necessary requirements to receive a card were but hadn’t walked around to look at anything.

I had forgotten how much I love libraries. I used to work at the South Pasadena Public Library as a freshman in high school. The smell of the books is something nostalgic to my senses. I love the feeling that people all around are learning or bettering themselves. The scene is something out of a science fiction movie where you can see knowledge as colors flowing directly from the books into people’s heads.

The Alameda library is large enough that there are plenty of areas in which to get comfortable and read in solitude. I’m thinking about instituting a library or reading night for April and I. We’ve each got books that we’ve been reading at a whenever-we-get-a-chance pace so having a set time will do wonders for getting those selections finished. It’s odd something this simple could excite me so much. I’m currently reading Cesar’s Way by Cesar Millan, the star of National Geographic’s Dog Whisperer. After that, it’s on to Malcolm Gladwell’s new offering, What the Dog Saw.

Still Kicking

Greetings from Gainesville, Fla. I’m out in the Sunshine State swampland for the 2009 NCAA Division I Women’s Volleyball Championship. Forgive me if I spell everything out as if I’m writing one of my match recaps or something. I’m in a mode these days.

Just one week ago, I was in Columbus, Ohio, for the first and second rounds of this postseason tournament. The Cal volleyball team won both of those matches and advanced to face an upset-minded Baylor team in the Gainesville Regional semifinal, which takes place tomorrow afternoon. As difficult as it is to be away from April when the team is in season, and as taxing as living out of a suitcase and doing work from sun up to sun down can sometimes be, I really do enjoy myself in these situations. And for that, I am truly thankful. Life is too short to not enjoy your day-to-day.

I’m having a hard time adjusting to the Eastern Standard Time that we’re operating on even after returning to the Bay from Ohio last week. Of course, if the team wins its next two matches, we drive down the road to Tampa, Fla. for the NCAA national semifinal. That would mean I could be away from home for as many as 12 straight days. I mentioned to someone on this trip that it’s been both unnerving and exciting at the same time to not know whether we’re going to be away for four days or 14 days. I’ve learned over the years to take things in stride and much like the team, I’m still kicking.

At Ben Hill Griffin Stadium in Gainesville, Fla.

At Ben Hill Griffin Stadium in Gainesville, Fla.

Columbus Bound

The Cal volleyball team learned today that it will be heading to Columbus, Ohio, for the first and second rounds of the 2009 NCAA Division I Women’s Volleyball Championship. That means I’ll be braving 30-degree weather for a couple of days. The team had a bunch of mixed emotions about being sent to the Midwest for the third time in three seasons but I’m excited enough. It also means the season’s end is no more than three weeks away. Then, I’ll be back in Los Angeles for a couple of weeks; the most exciting part of this whole deal. I’ll update from the road as time permits. See you on the other side.