Reflections – Episode 2 on Vimeo

“Let’s dance it out….but in our minds.”

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Reflections – Episode 1 on Vimeo

Tegan and Sara start a video blog while on tour in Europe. Let the hilarity ensue…

more about "Reflections – Episode 1 on Vimeo", posted with vodpod

Laundry Thoughts

Various thoughts run through my head while I do the laundry today. Our new place is a brutal walk to the laundry. All of 200 steps or so my feisty little pedometer loves to report.

As I trudge the distance to the ancient laundry room, I’m struck by an endless stream of questions. Have I reached my zenith at age 29? Is thirty really the new twenty? OMG, what is that woman wearing? Why did that changeling of a child not say excuse me when she pushed me out of her way in this laundry shack? Who raises these little pre-teen beasts? Was I a pre-teen beast?

The answers continue to dog my post-drinking fatigued mind. I worry about that. It is no secret that I drank a lot these past ten years. But I was by no means a daily alcoholic. I was just your stereotypical twenty something hard core party gal. Every weekend, sometimes twice, sometimes three times a week. Out we went, drunk I got. Go home. Four advil, glasses upon glasses of water. Sleep. Headache. Work and or school. Repeat a day or two later. No big deal. But I sometimes wonder – how many brain cells did I delete all of those nights? Was it worth it? Really? Hard to say. Doubtful. One thing is for sure, no drinking partying means earlier nights for me. But its okay. I have become that person who leaves the party early before the really fun and zany things happen. The crazy shit that cool kids always can recall afterwards. And opps, you missed out because you’er a sober sister and left at eleven- thirty versus the usual three-thirty am departure of the real “fun” kids. I have to try and stay later at parties. I really don’t want to become that lame’o. But I fear it is inevitable.

I read recently, that a new study revealed that the human brain reaches its pinnacle at age twenty-two. Twenty-two!? Then once twenty-seven has hit, the brain begins a slow decline into aged oblivion. Yikes. What was I even doing at age twenty-two? I just transfered from junior college to grown up college. The world was my oyster, I was on my own, finally! No parents. No curfew. No limits. It was amazing and so very fleeting.

The closer I get to thirty, and the closer I get to fulfilling my promise of a year entirely without alcohol, the more I realize the words of Joni Mitchell and later Ms. Jackson, were so blatantly true – “You don’t know what you got, till’ its gone.” But – and I continue to strum this thought through what is left of my tiny brain synapses – the true purpose of giving up my one huge vice, was to indeed “Know” what I have. At this very moment. At this very minute juncture of life. Because I remember things now. At parties. During conversations. It is both sad and pathetic to find joy in such a banal and mundane fact of life, but it is something I definitely could not say during these last 9 years. I like remembering. I like having a conversation with someone at a social function and really paying attention to what they are saying. It’s nice.

And as I walk to and from the tiny little room, stuffed with coughing and spluttering washers and dryers, I continue to wrestle with this question: When someone – who has been stricken for decades with a gene that makes them susceptible to the kind of hard living lifestyle I have lived – rejects this genetic defect and fights it – does the energy spent fighting this addiction count? For something? For anything? Or is just an assumption – that sorry honey – this is the life we were given and no one promised it would be easy. The latter is true. No one said it would be easy. I get no special prize or handshake for a job well done. I’m doing what I should be doing. Living life. Appreciating my brain cells. Not deleting them with every binge and saying fuck you to god, because I don’t care enough about your gift. I’m going to just drink it away. Anyway – it is a challenge to remain in the fray and not above. Immersed in it, rather then holding everyone at bay.

As I walk by my immigrant neighbors, with their ten kid per household quota, all of this rushes through me and I can’t help but feel a mix of jubilance and sadness. Jubilance at having finished my laundry. Sadness that although it was super fun pondering the state of my neurosis, I am still right where I was three hours ago when I started my ten loads of laundry. Still confused at my neighbors fashion sense, and horrified by the twelve-year old girls that seem to run the sidewalks of the La Ramada Apartments, with their giant cups full of soda, sipping and spewing insults at each other and everyone else. It takes the remaining energy I have left, to avoid their steely little eyes while I pass them on the way home to our cozy little bungalow. Owell. The questions that rack my universe will not be solved today. My only hope is that next week, when my laundry adventure is repeated, I have the common sense not to stare and gasp at the frightening frock’s my neighbors choose to wear on these mean streets of Anaheim. One can only hope.

Anytime…

Anytime you interview for a job where they tell you they use different applause to encourage their clients – and one of those applause’s is “We Will Rock You” by Queen – that is a job you want to have. And I do.

Here Goes….

After a long absence, Maya throws herself back in the ring today. Here goes. Let’s do this!

why I love Rachel Maddow

So smart, it hurts.

The Walk

So this is the Santa Ana River Walk that my girlfriend and I try and walk weekly. Although lately, it has just been me, walking the long 3 and half miles up down the trail that has become my routine path. I have lived in Orange County for almost 8 years, and it wasn’t until 2 months ago that I actually discovered the simple peace of walking amongst the various birds, squirrels, and lizards that call the riverbed their home.

It is amazing how calming it is to be surrounded by nature, even if it is just a small bit of it, amidst the urban sprawl that is East Anaheim.

I usually enter at Glassell Ave. and walk to Lincoln, then back again, this time passing Glassell and going until I reach the rail road tracks, half between Glassell and Tustin. The trek comes up to about 3.5 miles. I walk this path because there is a utility dirt trail that runs right on the river’s edge. I prefer walking on this side versus the prescribed “official” walking trail that is pushed back towards the fence of the river. In other words, you hardly see any water or birds walking that trail. To me what’s the point of walking the trail if you can’t see the ducks and crane-type white birds that swim around in the river. Doesn’t make much sense to me.

The trail is partial to bikers because of the nicely paved road that runs the entire length of the river. The walking/biker trail runs from Corona/Anaheim Hills, all the way to Huntington Beach. About 15 miles I believe total, but I could be wrong. Not a bad way to spend an hour or two.

The best part its free and relatively safe. Although, I have seen a homeless person or two. But they’re usually just sleeping or enjoying the scenery like everyone else.

Just another way to get some much needed free cardio and a suntan, simultanousely. Yup, there is a reason people live in So Cal.