dream. t- 51 days

work in progress: tim t kidnapped my husband, but left clues all over town for me to figure out how to find him. although i couldnt figure it out. i was getting desparate, but knew that jm wouldnt be harmed. it was a puzzle tim wanted me to figure out.

twilight lighting, very green, foresty, swampy kind of setting. there were two men with me, i think one was local sheriff, a friend trying to help rather than a police investigation, and another friend who's face i never saw. first clue was a cardboard box left under a seat in the back of an old abandoned school bus in the swampy area. sheriff stayed outside the bus, the other man followed me but stayed towards the front of the bus. upon picking it up, i could hear hundreds of crickets, and something much much larger moving around. i tried to carry it out of the bus hastily, but it fell open, and a very large lizard came out, and he was mad. i cant remember what i called it, but i knew it was poisonous. so i had to swiftly maneuver around it, over seats, etc, to get out before it bit me. i recognized the lizard, and knew it had something to do with a place my husband had been.

after following another clue, i ended up at the bottom of a white stairwell, lit with a bunch of natural light from windows on the first floor, though it seemed where i was was basement level. i heard someone on the stairs and i was seconds from catching them, when suddenly i found a digital photo holder on the stairs, and i knew it was for me. it was short video of my husband telling me he loved me and urged me to hurry up and find him. then he included two videos of songs i loved, but i knew they had greater meaning. one was a man, one was a woman - though i cannot remember now what songs they were.

i went to a little eatery to sort it all out. i think i knew the poeple that worked there, or maybe i was just friendly with them from having been there before. either way, i chose a small two seater table near the cook station, that overlooked the dining area, only separated by a half-wall. it was a little dark, only lit by the large windows up front, and sort of cozy, intimate. the waitress brought me a menu, but stood there urging me to pick something without letting me read it. so i chose some sort of flavored hummus and pita. when she left, an older woman, perhaps in her 50's or 60's sat at my table across from me. she had short curly hair, she was petite and a little frail, wearing a peachy colored shirt, no makeup. i had all of the clues in my hands, fumbling through them. i was on the verge of figuring it out but felt like i needed to talk it through with someone.

i began to tell her but she stopped me, telling me stanley (sheriff friend) had already told her. instantly i wasupset that he was telling the world about my dilemma but decided to let it go and accept help from any direction. so i began reading clues to her, and the closer i got to putting it together. but i woke up, and that was that.

giving my hubbs the world

working on giant bizzle map.


A giant map for my hubbs to pin all the places he's been. I didn't mean for it to be this big.. but uh, its freakishly giant.






UPDATE: it looks GREAT hanging on our dining room wall :) You can get an idea of how big it is, at 4 ft tall by 6 ft wide.

the hokey pokey.

well, everyone has their story. Where we came from, things we've endured, what has happened to us along the way. This morning I would have sat you down and hunkered down for the long winded story of my “fatherless” childhood, parental ups and downs, ill funded education woes, ten years of working two jobs without being able to catch a break, being separated from my husband, leaving the only home i've ever known to move to San Diego without a friend, without a job; and year later no prospect of either. Etc. Etc. Etc. i'm sure you've heard it all before :)

i've been feeling jilted, being here. I've made a couple of 'buddies' but no one I would truly call a friend. No one I feel like I can really count on, or call on when I want to get out and feel good about my day. I've not been able to find work anywhere near what I had in Phoenix, and set out on the community college path for the third time, only this time as my main goal. I've been struggling with guilt: on one hand, hating my life even though i've chosen every bit of it. Feeling miserably lonely when my husband is not home (which is a lot) and subconciously resenting him for 'doing this to me'. You know, choosing to sell his soul to the government we so adamantly despised and repeatedly leave me while he wanders the earth trying every beer known to man. And the other hand, well, just feeling guilty for not being able to be truly happy 'following' him around like I promised myself I would. Feeling guilty for secretly resenting this life.

It seemed like all I could do here was bend over and 'take another one for the team'. It was one shot after another. Every time we tried to look up we got tripped up by something else bad that was happening to us. And then my husband got his face kicked in, and I was told to go to the hospital at 4am on a Sunday morning. Fortunately, his condition wasn't severe or life threatening, though it scared the shit out of me. Sitting beside him in the hospital, while he was still unconscious and unaware of my presence, I laid my head on the bed beside him and sank into a whirlwind of thought, and not-thought, and dizziness, and everything all at once. I caught myself walking myself through the story I read in my religions class about the Buddhist man who talked about mourning the loss of his wife. He explained that it would be disrespectful to the universe to hang his head in sorrow; that he didnt own her, and by attaching himself to her loss and holding onto that sorrow it would only dishonor life itself. And I tried to do that. And even though I had acknowledged my sincere interest in it several times, I realized how much the religions class I was taking really meant. And how this seemed to reset all of my priorities: my husband is alive, we are side by side, and nothing else really matters. Not a thing. And that helped me carry on for a while, helping him eat baby food and blending odd things into mush for him, taking care of him made me feel good. But when he was back to normal and healing well, it was far too easy for the both of us to get wrapped up in daily humdrum nonsense and get angry at the world all over again.

the professor i had for world religions was the only one who said anything worth listening to, in my opinion. it was like he reached in and grabbed a hold of me and in a room full of strangers began talking just to me. Like that oldie but goodie 'killing me softly'. As counter-intuitive as it may have been, I attached myself to him a bit, and really did go out of my way to attend his class even if I didnt take any other. It has been my favorite class of all the classes i've taken in my life, and his presentation and perspective has been the most meaningful.

as luck (mine or his lackthereof, haha) would have it, i became a 'fan' of his professional page on FB. many weeks later, there was a posting for a class he was to teach at The Unity Center, sort of an alternative, all encompassing 'church'. at the last moment, i signed up and off i went. My heart dropped into my stomach when I first pulled in and realized it was a large building in an industrial area (not very spiritual looking at all) and I had miniature waking nightmares of the culty christian churches that broadcast on 15 networks and exorcise gay minority homeless paraplegic down-syndrome pedophiles in front of a live studio audience. What was I getting myself into?

I walked in, ascended the carpeted stairs to the chapel room and was greeted by a nice looking man with an oddly soft voice for his body, and a nice lady who helped me initial the attendance sheet and grab a binder. The carpet was soft, like new, but that awful mauvey rose color that grandmas keep in their bedrooms in Miami. I sat up front so I could see, and then panicked at the thought that in such a small room professor might recognize me and freak out, thinking I was stalking him and invading his personal life.

i felt totally out of place. religion was never my forte. in fact when i was in the third grade, my friend asked me what religion i was and i told her i was a Capricorn... prior to these classes, i had stepped foot in church only twice in my life for anything other than a wedding. the first was when i was three or four and i visited my cousin's mormon church, where i attended her sunday school class and all we talked about was flowers (or at least that's how i took it when i was that age, when really it was about god's gift of life, etc); and subsequently made me stand up in front of a room full of strange kids and asked me to sing a song i didnt know (the 'who is new to this church' welcoming song, which i wasnt asked to sing at all, but it scared the crap out of me having to stand up in front that crowd - thanks for the next 25 years of public speaking phobia! haha) and i cried my eyes out. secondly, in gradeschool, i went to sunday school once with my best-friend-of-the-week because they gathered the kids afterward for formal dancing lessons, where we learned to ballroom dance with real boys; and i got to lead the bunny hop...

but let me preface this by saying this is not really a 'church' I guess. Its not christian or jewish or hindu or buddhist. Although, perhaps its rooted in christian faith because, well, most of the western world is, and how can this exist without a root of some kind? This is transcending its roots, I suppose. Rooted in christian faith but aspiring for no particular faith at all. All encompassing, all accepting, which is probably why they call it 'the unity center'. This class is really about how to be 'wise' and by wisdom we are talking about lifelong 'being', being in the world in a way that flows with all the energies of life, living a righteous life, enjoying life, and being truly happy. Its about looking inward, not up (or down, or left or right, depending on what religious direction you choose). Its a 'path to self' kind of thing, but not hokey or new agey or crystal bally or any of that. And I thought it was the kind of thing I needed.

anyway, the class was great. I was surprised at how openly people were chiming in to talk about things when prompted (I was terrified to open my mouth, see the church story above...) and quickly realized that most of these people probably attend this church on a weekly basis, and being so small, probably all know one another outside of these classes, and they addressed the professor by his first name, which was far more intimate than I had planned to get in these sessions, and whoa... what have I gotten myself into? But it was great to be in a room hearing professor speak again, and even though I had heard some of the stories before I enjoyed them again just the same. And what he spoke about felt good, and I was happy to be apart of that again. When class was over, a few people milled around him to say hi so I darted out the door as quickly as I could. I wasnt sure he'd recognize me anyway.

and last week, the second class, the professor knelt beside me prior to class to say hello. that really made me feel at ease, as i wasn't even sure he'd remember me and i was sure i stuck out like a sore thumb in that room of familiar faces. but simply the fact that he took a moment to personally say hello meant a lot. i've really been enjoying the discussions, though i dont really partake, just listen, absorb.

but tonight... (class three) was different. i've been having a day. i mean one of those days, you know, the kind of awful days that make your life miserable when you're easily angered and agitated. Like the days I swore i'd never give into again. i worked last night until 10pm, and found out once i was there that i had been added to the schedule for today at 8am, when i had planned to be off and accomplish all my housekeeping and errand running, before a friend's visit later this week. after little sleep i trudged back into work carrying the rest of last night's work frustration, and it snowballed. i did some shopping afterwards for my husband's care package, and with it decided to replenish foods for the pets and a bit for myself, and spent twice what i had budgeted, and took up more time than i had wanted. so by the time i got home i figured i had just enough time to eat quickly, nap quickly, change clothes and run out the door.

but alas, when i got home i found the dog had drug the trash across the floor that i had mopped two days ago, full of used coffee grounds. i dropped to my knees to sweep it all back into the trash bag and decided to take it to the trash can outside before we went for round three (she did this yesterday, too... i know, shame on me for not taking it out before). so i peddled down the back stairs and toward the garbage can when the entire bottom of my paper sack fell out, and the pile of garbage landed in the center of the neighbor's driveway. so i threw out the empty bag, and went upstairs to get my dustpan and brush. back downstairs to sweep up the driveway (now being the third time I had swept up this lump of trash), and dump it all into the trashcan. back upstairs, i ate quickly, changed clothes twice, and sat to read a few moments of email in an effort to keep awake, because, now, i didnt have enough time to nap. i left the house ten minutes later than i wanted, to find an empty tank of gas. i hauled up the street to the gas station and realized i forgot my purse. thankfully, my debit card was in the car and i was able to use my last $10 to get me where i needed to go. i arrived with no time to spare.

class began as usual and i immediately calmed with the opening meditation. in fact, i felt like i could curl up and sleep. it was the most relaxed I've been for two days. probably since last week. we jumped in as usual. I felt totally distracted this time because I was tired and couldn't focus, but also because professor was wearing Birkenstocks. That was odd to me because I've never been taught by or in a meeting headed by someone in sandals. I then realized it was spring break and why should he dress up if he doesnt have to go to work? And really, why does it matter anyway? Because I have a weird thing about feet. Not an obsession, but I guess more like an anti obsession. I don't like feet. Even my own. I dont like seeing other people's feet, its sort of an intimate thing I think, even though I wear sandals all summer long. But whatever, that's me, not other people. Especially men. Weird in my head, I know. But THEN, the guy in the front row diagonally across from me took off his flip flops and was running his feet through grandma's thick mauve carpet, and yeah I'm sure it was super soft, but man – you're in a semi-formal public place. You just dont do that. But whatever, it doesn't matter, give it up, stop projecting your weird ideas onto other people, heather. Its nice that they both feel so comfortable they can wear totally open shoesies and run their little piggies through the carpet. Ooh, but now he's rubbing his feet on the leg of the piano, good lord will somebody please move it out of his way? Let it go, heather. Let it go. Redirect your attention...

yawn, read ahead, listen intently, yawn even though i don't want to and its really not a sign of boredom. think 'sure, this all makes sense and i need to study it more'. The lecture portion of the class closes, and professor prompts everyone to chime in with reflections, personal thoughts. I amaze at how much personal information these people are just throwing out there and who really cares? We're here to listen to professor's information, not your life story. I get annoyed at other people talking so much, but then someone said something that really knocked me over. and i don't even remember what it was exactly.

no no... i remember now. professor was sharing his day at Costco observing people eating lunch together, taking care of elderly spouses, disabled children, etc. he was pointing out how beautiful it was to watch people take care of one another and enjoy life in the face of so much struggle. It made me think of my husband, how much I miss him, how I had taken care of him when he needed me, and even now he and I would take care of each other like that – if we could only be together. How i'd almost take that situation in a heartbeat, because at least we'd be together. And I began to get weepy, so I put my head down a bit and just listened.

Then a woman spoke up. Her comment had to do with choosing to be happy, not asking 'when is my happiness going to come? when is it my turn to be happy? when can i catch a break?'  and it came from the exact women i rolled my internal eyes at because i thought she shared too much. then i wanted to hug her. she shared a story about her husband [I think – my head started spinning and it all gets a little fuzzy here] catching a virus on an airplane to europe that immediately began to deteriorate his brain and cause his inability to create any new long term memory, causign him to lose is livelihood as a chemist or somesuch important academic mentally-challenging field like that. and i thought, wow, i've been so selfish.  yes i've been separated from my husband for three months, with still two months to go. yes, i have been miserably unhappy in san diego, extremely lonely and resentful of being here. yes, i have envied every woman that walks within a quarter-mile radius with a baby in tow. yes, i have envied couples walking hand in hand, bickering over which lettuce to buy - how dare they waste any moment they have together when there are two people (ie. Me and jm) who really love each other and are half a planet apart...

really? who am i to insinuate that anyone else on the planet is wasting anything? especially when it has been me all this time wasting myself, and my chance to be happy in this town, in this moment, in this life. it brought me to tears. It was like I was hit in the face with a shovel, cartoon like, vibrating my skull and letting out a reverberating ddddddooooooonnnnnnnngggggg.

i couldn't help it. tears started to roll down my cheeks and i tucked my head down so no one would see. after a moment or two i reached for a tissue in the seatbox in front of me and wiped my chin. then my nose. then a minute later i finally wiped my eyes. you know, playing it off. Alergies, right?

It was exactly the breakthrough I needed, it was what I needed for all of this to sink in. I'd been hearing all of this information, all of this insight, but not listening. I had been thinking about it all, but not feeling it, not really absorbing it, living it, breathing it. at that moment everything I had been carrying around lifted away (well, a good portion of it anyway) and I felt like I finally introduced myself to ..myself. I suddenly felt connected to everyone in the room, and the air became clearer, lighter, sweeter. I could breathe again. How foolish i've been.

When we left, as I started down the stairs, I could smell Spring long before I reached the door. It was the perfect mix of blooming deserts after a cleansing rain, crisp and cool night air, and the salty-ocean in the distance. I felt renewed. And now I might have it in me to get through the next 63 days, and focus on hawaii again.

...'and that's what it's all about!'

Alice in Wonderland release party at Syrah

last night was a lot of fun. there was a guy dressed like the burton mad hatter, but he was shorter than me, lol, so he was like a mad-oompaloompa-er. i would really like to go back on a regular day to see what Syrah is like - apparently they had an interior decorater for the party. 


the bar itself is under ground, so you have to go down stairs to get there. at the bottom of the stairs are three ways: straight ahead to a locked door covered in graffitti, then to the right in a little cave that i think is like a janitor's area, then a door on the left that is totally camoflauged with some plastic clover leafy stuff that is also all over the wall. (apparently, they have a camera set up outside to catch people utterly confused and play it on a big screen tv by the bar for entertainment. we, fortunately, missed out on that embarrassment because they had the alice trailer playing over and over and over). 


once inside, more walls were covered with the clover leavesy things. the table where the greeter girl stood was covered with stacks of old books, a big rabbit lamp, and teapots/cups. there were giant butterflys everywhere on the walls and ceiling. they had really awesome blown glass snail lamps on the ceiling in the very center of the room, too. hanging down above the bar were teapots spilling out greenery, and more bflys.


 the bar itself is really neat, not huge, but totally casual and relaxing feeling. there were big barrel lamps hanging and i got the impression that the clover things and many other decor items are normal, meant to make the place look like a vineyard. its very organic and cozy. i took some pictures with my phone but the lighting was so dim they didnt really come out well (as you can tell). 


All in all it was fun to get out on a school night, haha. ((Devlyn, Me, Zayra)

day 40: a sunday. not a good day to be my cat.

so i went for a couple beers with my buddy after work last night. i stayed out way too late, and was totally wiped when i got home. i let the dog out. i let the dog in. the cat ran out. he wouldnt come in. i closed the door, thinking he'd come running back to me in a few minutes once he got out into the yard and realized it was cold and wet.

i laid on the couch for a few minutes and snuggled with the dog. i got up and went to bed. i slept in super late, waking at about 11am. i got up, started the kettle to make coffee. let the dog out. puttered around a minute, and started the calling the cat to give him a new cardboard box. no reply. checked the bedroom, no cat. then it hit me.

oh crap.

i forgot to let the cat back in last night. i saddled up the dog and grabbed the can of cat treats and out we went. shaking the treats in the yard to see if he had hidden in the bushes. i kept calling him, no response. we started out the gate, and then backtracked. i decided to check the biggger, thicker bushes around the side of the house. i called and shook the treats, then heard him wailing. his little face poked out of the ground level opening under the house...

we rent the bottom floor of an old victorian in san diego. its built on a hill, with the backside on the down-hill. front of the house is flush with the street, but the back end is built up a tad, so there's a shallow basement sort of thing, not really tall enough to stand up in. the little opening on the side of the house has a mesh on it, with a hole in it, of course. the cat had wandered into it and spent a cold wet night under the house.

he screamed and screamed and tried several times to work his way out of the screen again. but finally, he came out, nice and dirty. i scooped him up and tossed in the front door. he ate a little, cried a little, told me all about his miserable experience, then disappeared to sleep all day.

the dog is napping too. looks like a good idea. i've been awake for 2 hours, but they were emotional. and i think that deserves a nap.

day 33: valentines day

the dog is sniffing at the front door. she was barking a few minutes ago, but there is no one outside. i don't know what the deal is, but she's making me worry.

anyway, today was a fabulous day. i woke up when the neighbors started banging on my ceiling (they are replacing their flooring), about 930. i was having dreams about real-life zombie games. i had to go from 'scene' to 'scene' and complete the puzzle before the zombie came to life and ate me. for example: i came upon a house, where on the front porch were two tombstones. the left was the wife, the dead, on the right the husband, the undead. their faces were on the tombstones, which is why it was sort of game-ish, and on each a vial of their blood. in life, they had been motorcycle lovers, taking long rides together. it is also what killed them. beside their tombstones was a replica of their bike, some black harley-chopper stylie thing with flames on it. sort of circa 1950s. anyway, i was suppose to take the vial of blood off of each tombstone and splash it on the bike along with some sawdust, then vacuum it off to exemplify their death and clean rebirth into the afterlife. However, as soon as i took the vial off of the tombstones, they began to wake. when i took the vial from the wife's tombstone, her face came to life and began to scream. the trick was to do the motorcycle part quickly and as quietly as possible because if her undead husband woke completely, either by the sound of her screaming or the sound of my cleaning, he'd eat us both. needless to say i failed.

when i woke up, i stumbled out to let the dog into the front yard and accidentally followed her. when i got to the porch i realized how beautiful and warm it was outside, so i decided to put some shorts on, grab my hat, and go for a walk. halfway through the walk i decided it would be a perfect day to take her to the beach, so we headed home. as soon as i opened the front door, i realized how un-fresh my house was; dirty, cold and dark. so i opened up all the windows and spent the day spring cleaning. sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, dusting. it was a fabulous therapeutic thing to do. airing out the house felt great.

i was supposed to meet a kid from class to study for our spanish test this week, which quickly turned into an odd awkward thing. instead of mutually meeting somewhere, i went to pick him up, then drove back to my neighborhood to the local coffee shop. we were there for less than two hours and he called it quits. we got no mutual studying done, cuz we couldnt agree on what we needed to work on and he gabbed most of the time, afterward proclaiming how great he thought we worked together and wants to study each week. he's super nice, but a little spacey. so i took him home, and came home to study on my own. i made flashcards and watched most of a movie i didnt really like, which was odd because it was an Audrey Hepburn flick, with an old Carey grant.

i decided that since it was slow and annoying, and i'd take gene Kelly over Carey grant any day, i gave up spanish and moved to the couch to watch singin' in the rain.

i'm on day three of my super renew beauty routine (ie livestrong "my plate", and tee tree miracle waffles + teeth whitening strips before bed). just simply doing the same thing each day is making me feel good. i've never been one for any kind of routine other than washing my hair before i condition it (which i've been known to screw up), so this is a nice change.

the hubbs called tonight, but i missed it. i didnt recognize the phone number so i didnt answer it :( i tried to call right back but it went to a voicemail. happy valentines day indeed.

day 27: short sentences are awesomeness.

i've been out three times in four days. i'm done for the year. quota met.

friday night i went to the turf club with the people upstairs. it was, actually, a lot of fun. she gets drunky fast like me. we laughed a lot.

saturday night i went to the archway, a little divey bar near work, with my buddy ian. we laughed a lot there too. and griped about work. it was theraputic.

sunday, i spent the day with the cat on the couch watching the i love lucy marathon and reading my psych book. yay no super bowl for me.

today, i worked. i got angry at work. i hate work. then i went shopping at the commissary. i hate the commissary. i bought cat food. the cat hates dog food. then i came home. the dog was angry. jake and angela were outside. i ran over to say hi, we talked for a while. they invited me over for dinner. i went. she made good soup. we talked a bit. they smoked. i came home.

i made tea. i packed my gym bag for tomorrow. its supposed to rain. lameness = walking two blocks in the rain to a smelly old gym where i'm going to sweat and get more wet. in fact, if i get too wet, i'll be damn sure to slide off the bike that is not bolted to the floor. i'm starting a food diary to go with my workout class, well, not FOR class, but to go with it for my own OCD sanity. just gonna try to learn about calories and nutrition and how to eat balanced and healthy. i bought real oranges. whoa.

day 23: school day 4, and other stuff

Well, Spanish is going well. Today I worked with Matt (the guy I met in the bookstore, who said my earrings remind him of a Polynesian girlfriend he once had, he sits to the right of the thermos girl) and Devlyn, the nice girl who sits to my right. She's a natural Spanish speaker, having grown up in TJ, and Matt is Cuban and Argentinian, i think, and understands Spanish though he doesn't speak it well. They are helping me tremendously and now I feel more confidente. Each day, including the very first day of class, we each have to say something or read something from the book in Spanish aloud to the whole class. Others are worse than me so that makes me feel ok. I can tell time (c Que hora es?) and count to 100-ish. Its very easy, actually, just memorizing the numbers will take some time.

Side note, Devlyn told me that fitness credits are not required at City like they are at SWC... so I signed up for this boot camp class for nuthin... ... sigh ...

I got two pairs of new shoes with my birthday money from my parents, including a brand new pair of cross-trainers to wear to the gym. They are white and lime green from New Balance, and I feel sassy in them. I also bought new pants, which really are just pajama pants, but super soft cotton from my best friend Target for under $15. With my new knowledge of taking this class for no reason, I opted to give it one more shot, since its my last class before the refund drop date. Afterall, Hawaii is five months away...

It was our second day completing coach Colbert's boot camp circuit, then we had close to 20 mins of free time to work on whatever machine we wanted. Of course, these machines are O-L-D. The bikes are super stylie. The seats are non-adjustable ('cept for height) and I have bruises in places that ladies don't mention. In fact, their only adjustable knob tightens a blue shoelace around a spinning wheel and circa-1980's steering wheel cover vinyl on the hand grips. No electronics, not even bolted to the floor.

The most modern machines are stair-steppers that are sadly outdated, with their electronic screens reminiscent of the blood pressure machines i was scared of in Walgreens when I was a kid, with bleepy lights like a Lite Brite. I tried the eliptical, my very favorite machine, only to discover that the two most importante buttons are broken - the start button and the down arrow. So it sits at default 150lbs for 30 minutes and you can't 'start' it. lameness. We then spent the last 30 minutes or so of class doing his 'crunch club' where we all got onto mats on the floor and did variations of sit ups, crunches, etc. I was proud to see that I was the only one that A. could do all of the things coach told us to do, and B. did it without whining, sobbing, or falling over, unlike the 350lb rappy-fantastic across from me that smelled like a goat. And there's some little skater kid that followed me around, which was a little flattering and creepy all at the same time. After class, I felt super great, so I think I will stick this out afterall. And I might even enjoy it.

I decided to give the showers in the neighboring brand-new locker room. See, they built a huge two story fitness monstracity in the parking lot next to the fitness center. It is used for dance classes, sports training, kickboxing and apparently every PE class except for the one I'm in. Rumor has it they took all the 'good' machines out of our room andmoved them to the new building which is why our class sucks so bad. Anyway, there are new locker rooms complete with private showers. They do not have enough lockers for everyone, so I've been carrying my entire bathroom and Spanish books in my 50lb gym bag.

In the showers, which are like giant tile laden cubes, there is a heavyweight curtain running from floor to ceiling for privacy, and a fold down bench near the doorway. There's about 3-4 feet between the seat and the shower head, which was a tiny little thing, so I figured setting my bag on the seat was ideal. This is my first public shower experience as it was, so I was already a little jumpy, but when I turned the knob and was hit by ice cold water with the force of all of San Diego's water pressure, I was just about shot through the curtain and out into the hallway. I quickly figured out how to turn the nozzle to narrow the water jet, cuz you cant aim it up or down, so i was able to shower with a jet stream pointed at my noggin, but my stuff still got soaked. Thankfully I have four days to figure out plan B, and dry out my Spanish book. HA - I could just claim my Spanish is watered down! I know, don't quit my day job.

Psych class went well, and I kicked the pre-quiz quiz's ass. So I feel really great today. And I'm wearing my new sandals :) I felt so good, in fact, that I celebrated my great work out with Del Taco.

That's how I roll.

product review: Desert Essence Facial Cleansing Pads.

OMG.

I didn't know my face was so gross. These wipes are miracles soaked into little cotton waffles. They are a mix of beautifully natural things like witch hazel, lavender, tea tree, chamomile and some sort of backywackybrush that I've never heard of. They are also 100% vegan.

They are small little waffle textured cotton pads pre-soaked in their natural essential oil recipe. You pull one out, wipe it around your face and neck, then rinse with cool water. Simple.

They are strong and I had to fan my eyes a little, so I suggest keeping your eyes closed for a few seconds after application (not that I used them ON my eyes, of course, but the power of the ingredients makes for strong aromatic air).

I had been wearing only loose powder for days prior to using these, cleaning my face irregularly as normal. After several rounds around my face and neck, both sides looked like they had rolled in the mud. It was awful and wonderful at the same time. For the first time in ages, I looked into the mirror and liked my skin.

I'm rushing to their website now to learn more about them as it seems they have an entire line of organic skin care, hair care and other health and beauty items. I have to tell you, though, their web price on these pads is high. They sell them on their website for $6.99 and I bought mine at Trader Joe's for $3.99 (for 50 pads). Sadly, Trader Joe's carries only a couple of their items. But, if we gather the masses and ask them to carry more - they just might!

(I've linked the photo above to the product listing on their website, so you can just click the image and viola!)

day 21: third day of school

(handwritten in notebook)

Groundhog day. I worked Sat and Sun, and at 8am on Monday. I slept ten hours last night but I still feel exhausted. My house is a disaster. I really have to change my habits. I'm going to drive myself crazy.

I decided I need to invest in exercise pants. I dont like this class, but I have to stick it out. I'm waiting for Spanish to begin. Yay Spanish. Drink more coffee. Yea, that'll make it better.

Spent close to $100 yesterday on snacks to send to the hubbs. I need to get a photo printed for him. ...sigh... so much to do and I dont have the energy for any of it. I'm going to consider taking Monday's off.

By the look on the face of the girl who sits in front of me, I can tell my hair looks awful. Hooray.

[yokel who came late sat in front of me only the first day. A girl named Zayra moved in front of me, next to the thermos girl, and a nice girl to my right. The four of us have been working together in Spanish class.]