Mmm, effervescent

My brother introduced me to Kombucha when I visited him in New York last November. GT's Kombucha: I first tried the Gingerade, which is a combination of the miracle-stuff plus pressed ginger, and it tickled my innards so much that I've been trying to find it out here since I came back home. I finally found it at an LA farmers market, and today they were on sale... a branch of the stuff called Synergy offered my flavors of Cosmic Cranberry (sitting to my right, half-empty)... Guava Goddess and Gingerberry are chilling in the fridge as we write. I've got to say that I'm not the purest being in the world. I enjoy a decent-sized amount of corruption here and there. But with the guilt comes the detoxing, the fasts, the cleanses, and with that comes the Kombucha. I stick by the idea that one's body is a temple for sure, but mine is a nondenominational one - let the parties commence, just take care to leave it presentable when you're finished, or when there are visitors.

More importantly, the stuff now is added to a long list of things that I associate with my brother, which I like to call Comfort Quirks...

milk chews
pistachio nougat
french-pressed coffee
pomegranate sorbet
Jeeves & Wooster
yellow raincoats
green Doc Martens
red and black Pandas
and so much more...

I've a second birthday party of sorts to rest up for tonight. Steven and I got up and out of the house way too early this morning and crossed out of a lot of errands. At this point, I'm all for lazing about until at least 6:00 pm.

The weekend has only begun.

And no, there will not be any time to watch the Superbowl tomorrow.

A Charlie Brown recession anniversary

My folks' 31st wedding anniversary was yesterday, so I took Pop and my younger brother out for a Chinese dinner prior to Mom's return from Washington, D.C. today. Dinner on me was just the start of the celebration, as my family's tradition has yet to take place.

On the Saturday of the week in which my folks' wedding anniversary falls, we all get together and have our version of Christmas. Or at least that's what I like to call it. These days I celebrate Christmas; however, growing up as a Jehovah's Witness - a faith that my folks still cling to - I did not. So with this event of sorts coupled with glorious paganism, it's as if I get to partake in two Christmases in a matter of months. So we (which this year will consist of my younger brother and myself) will give them presents, after which they will take us out and we get whatever the hell we please - at their insistence. I'll want money. But I'm probably going to get something I don't need, like a hot pink sweater.

Despite all of that, I made a concerted point to get Mom and Pop substantial things to utilize as well as enjoy. In the spirit of prudence, I procured for them the following gifts:

a fine shiraz to toast to at least another 31 years of unity
tan moccasin slippers (for Pop)
navy blue slipper socks with a red cherry at their toes (for Mom)
a copy of Parliament Funkadelic: The Mothership Connection that I had the pleasure of reviewing recently (for Pop)
body butter, body splash, bath bubbles, and shower gel in Warm Vanilla Sugar from Bath & Body Works (for Mom)
and of course an obligatory anniversary card with bunny rabbits on it

(Of course I ended up treating myself a lovely pair of tan suede moccasins, and red pajama pants with white hearts on them. I really need to quit the spending on myself, really. After much struggle earlier in the evening, I did put down the InTouch Weekly and Coach purse that was on sale, and purchased toilet bowl cleaner instead. Shopaholics Anonymous much?)

In prior years, I've gotten them presents that have merely been "cool": such as the one time I got them a personalized commemorative paving stone in the courtyard between Disneyland and Disney's California Adventure. I still don't even remember how that all happened, but my whenever my folks stop by to catch a glimpse of it, their eyes get all misty and glassy, as was the intention, and then I think how much it was worth it. While I'm certain that they won't react along the same vein when caressing their new slippers, I'd like to think that they'll appreciate the thought and reasonableness this year instead of a boatload of frivolous things, just trying to impress them.

Besides -- I think they can wait to see the Alvin Ailey Dance Company at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion until March, do you?

Long day

Indeed. With the debate last Friday, moving Steven into his new place this past weekend, work, school, brain-storming, and attempting to get as reasonable an amount of sleep as possible, it's just been one long unending day. it's felt this way pretty much for the past two weeks. I think I need a vacation. In about a month and a half, my request will have been met. I can be patient.

I called my folks this evening on the way home from class, to thank them for their support in the last few years, but especially during a time when things had gone particularly badly in my corner of the world. I was reading through some of my old LiveJournal entries circa winter 2004 and it was just ... a horrible place to have been in. Without saying much, I can sum up things by stating that I was left for dead, emotionally and [as a result] physically. But my parents helped me out - fed me, letting me sleep on their couch for a few weeks, and giving me reason to consider smiling again. I try to keep buried how I felt at the time, how skinny I was, and how it never seemed to stop raining. Sometimes it feels like it's still raining, but it's not pouring like it was. Dare I say, I've become more authentic, because as much as I don't say so I suppose I've plenty to be proud of as a functioning human being. I'm on my way to university; I'm managing funds; I'm gaining experience in writing, all thanks to those few weeks of intervention. Those things, including and because of family, are most important. So I thanked them for being there, when it was most needed, and always. I figured why not let them know. We're only given this moment; it's up to us what we do with it.

Huge sidepoint that was. In other news, while watching the "Morning Inspiration" show on BET Sunday morning, the preacher was telling the congregation how we must 'fight temptation, talk to the Lord so we can fight temptation'. . . but you know something; I haven't dealt with temptation of that sort since I stopped going to church a few years ago. Now maybe this is just me, but when I was a church-goer I would panic about falling into temptation; "get behind me, Satan", have mercy. Now, temptation to me is fighting the urge to have a piece of saltwater taffy before bed.

Ah, so. Life's going okay. Did I mention that I'm ready for a vacation?

Nomad

12:30 am came so quickly.

It's been a good week so far. I kind of feel like I've been living out of a track and field bag since Sunday, and I think I know why. . . it's because I have been. This weekend I was helping my boyfriend get some things together for his big move this week (from San Clemente to La Verne). Last night, with the same bag, I headed to my folks' house to make pumpkin pies in celebration of the first day of autumn (you're here, darling; I've missed you so). Today, I still had the bag with me, having taken it to class, heading home with it at about 11:00 pm. And I can tell you this - tomorrow night I'll be taking it to my sister's in Agoura Hills for the evening; Thursday it will accompany me again to late-night schooling; and Friday afternoon I'll be taking it back down to San Clemente to get everything situated on Steven's end. Then I'll be back in Los Angeles on Sunday, trusty bag still in tow.

I like being everywhere, in a way. It's nice to be on the go. Tonight is one of two evenings that I'll be sleeping in my bed this week. But I wouldn't have it any other way, for now.

As you can probably see in the upper left-hand corner, I made a blog as a sort of archive for the Transit LA posts I wrote with Cityzine. Since transitioning over to BeatCrave.com has me focusing primarily on music (per my request), I thought it would be nice to keep some news and upcoming events in relation to transportation in Los Angeles. It was fun writing it, and I don't want to not, know what I'm sayin'? So feel free to check there every week or so, should the urge strike you.

Okay, I really don't know why I'm still up. . . I was going to treat myself to going to sleep at 11:30 pm for having gotten home from class earlier than expected. Guess my brain had other plans.

Red

Day job, school, night job, social life, love life, family life. Those are the priorities. The three towards the end often switch order; actually, they can be easily jumbled into one ball of interaction and pseudo-joy. Those are the hardest to attend to at the moment. I miss my dad. And my mom. These days, I talk to them separately, on different phones - with him, his cell phone; with her, her business phone. It's like they're physically separated, but they're not. Only emotionally. That's worse, actually. But it has been thirty years.

My boyfriend and I talked last night. After two years of whatever we've been doing, I asked if he'd consider marrying me. If it was a possibility. Not that I want to get married now; I'm not ready. I'm to get my bachelor's degree before I do anything else. But I kind of needed to know - I likened it to taking on an entry-level job with the possibility of promotion, moving within the company. If that's not even a possibility, then you wouldn't stick around long. Enough to make some money and save. But not long enough to become attached, so you could move on to the next opportunity. It sucks if you love the location, or how your chair gives you the support it needs. But without the possibility, it would be better to move on.

So at least I was made more certain of the possibility.

So, social/love/family life. I can't wait for the moment where I'll have the time to take it all in and enjoy it, to friggin' breathe - or to at least feel that my eight-to-five is being put to good use along the terms of my perspective outside of obvious monetary dependancy. But I realized a long time ago that in order to fuel our own dreams, we might have to fuel someone else's for a while.

As the days go by, again I must mention - October is just around the corner. My absolute favorite time of year. Sweaters and pumpkins, pumpkin pie and colored leaves. Cool with the warm. Another autumn. Another year.