Zora Travels

Wonderous Weekend

To set the mood - BEFORE reading this post, please listen to this in the background.

 

Daniel sits across from me now.  His freshly-shaven chin leans into his hand (wedding ring visible).  Soca music spills from his laptop and competes with Garth Trinidad's radio show.  Every few minutes he reads more reviews and suggestions for our trip to St. Lucia that begins tonight.  Turns out that we are visiting during Carnival.  Imagine our luck....the streets erupt with elaborate costume parades, steel drum competitions, and soca dance parties.  Near our resort giant leatherback turtles sun themselves on the sand...snorkeling in crystal clear water beckons...and cocktails, adorned with umbrellas and fruit slices, will flow freely from the bar....and back in our ocean-view villa our very own "private plunge pool" awaits.

I can't wait for our honeymoon....I'm abuzz with excitement.  My dad will enjoy our home while we enjoy the sun in the Caribbean waters.  Neither of us have ever been to this nook of the planet.  And although we're staying in a fancy hotel, you can't take the "hosteling/mosquito-net-carrying" mindset out of us...we have packed tupperware to scoop up "inclusive meals" and jaunt off on the bus into various little towns.  Towns that offer fish-frys from old men on the beach, dancing circles that erupt near local bars, Rasta food, and sand bars that allow for hours of simple sitting.

But before our feet trapse in the waters at Jalousie, I wanted to share just a few of my favorite photographs from the weekend....with a wee bit of storytelling.  The professional photographs from the artistic Noa should be available in 5 more weeks.  We can't wait to share them.


Courtney flew down with her son (and my Godson) Jonah for the nuptial festivities.  Here we are at the rehearsal dinner.  I forced myself to sit apart from her because we often get consumed in our own side-story, gossip, and inside-jokes (a growing repertoire since we were 9 years old)...but we often raised our beers toward each other, winked, and shared knowing glances.  For her to stand as my matron-of-honor, holding my hands in the bridal salon, spraying my shaking legs with cooling mist (thanks, Claire), and delivering the only speech of the night that made me cry....was an amazing gift.

Of course, the time with my nephew Sam has been incredible.  If only they lived down the street.  If only I always knew the pajamas that fit him, the book he loved most, the way he likes his fruit sliced, the songs he most enjoys...these little details I capture and relish in his presence...with heartbreak that they will soon change and I'll be once again just the  "Auntie Zora on the phone."

But this weekend, I knew the story.  "Dumbo" on page 233 of his Disney book.  Kathy, my other fabulous bridesmaid, holds a reluctant Becca.

And well, I know she's my niece, but seriously....is there ANY cuter than Becca-Bean-Bear?  I could hold her, sniff her neck, wipe her wispy hair from her face, watch her squish raspberries, blow bubbles with her lips, and dazzle me with her four-tooth grin all day.  I want to stop time when I look at her.

And this young man.  My, what a long journey it's been.  On the day he entered the world, I was anxiously awaiting his arrival along with Courtney's other family members.  We twiddled our thumbs, shot nervous smiles, and felt the sheer anticipation of this amazing boy.

His kind heart, outdoorsy spirit, and wild curls were a pure joy this weekend.  He listened to more topics (including me discussing bikini waxing, manny/peddys, bridal panic, and magic spandex underwear) than most young men his age should every have to.  He rode in the backseat of my car as we approached the wedding site...patient as I replayed my song for the day.

The rehearsal dinner was this golden evening when our two families, two sets of friends, gathered for a casual evening.  Lumpia and pancit were served while Bea (Daniel's Goddaughter & our flower girl) danced with Becca in the hallway.

And if only my immense gratitude for my mother could be captured in words.  Whether it be the ribbons dancing from flower balls, the bouquets and boutonnieres, the moss covered rocks, the shining vases filled with roses for Lola, the placecards swirled with calligraphy, the fountain bursting with succulents, the hosting of the rehearsal dinner, or the tugging of my magic underwear right before I walked down the aisle...she was my hero.  She is my treasured mother.

And she can sing, too.  Thanks to Ding & Daisy who brought their karaoke machine! (and to Daniela & Alyce for setting up the decorations!)

 

Days after the formal evenings...it was beach time!  Hours of sun-bathing, sandcastle building, and wave jumping took place.

 

Jonah also made an incredible friend in Eduard.  Another young man whose zest for life matches his own.

 

 

Sam is a blur in the midst of the men.  Shane, Daniel, John, and Steve all enjoyed watching him spin around the back yard.

 

We took a brief departure from our visiting family & friends and enjoyed a night at Crystal Cove.  Here is our first "vacation hand" picture.  Notice the rings!  It still makes me giddy to see it on his finger!

 

And with our wedding date inscribed in the sand, we bid adieu to the beach...at least for a few days...until we welcome the crashing waves once again on an island.

Friends & Loved Ones

These past several weeks have been rich with laughter, pain, tears, and excitement.  When the one you love the most loses someone who has so completely infused their life, personality, and family with strength, courage, faith, and kindness, it is difficult to watch.  Difficult to know what they need.  Difficult to temper your thrill of getting married, having a party, dancing a jig...with their knitted brow of grief, familial obligations, and respectful ceremonies that also need planning, thought, and an open heart.  May Lola Rose rest in peace knowing that her grandson is an incredible man, son, fiance and friend.  His love and that of his entire family was a beautiful embrace that kept her warm, comfortable, and secure until the end.  She knew she was treasured.

In these same two weeks that life has been experienced with many tears and also laughs, we have both enjoyed our Bachelor/Bachelorette parties.  Pics are above and below of these splendid days.

Insomnia, fly, & road trip II

It's nearly 3:00am.  My eyes are red and my throat parched....but the water is so far.  A fly buzzes incessantly around my head.  I can't sleep.  Partly because high-speed internet is so exciting and also because I waited until the two fathers in the house (my dad and brother) were sleeping to start scanning, printing, and creating their little Father's Day gifts.

The other contributor is the looming return leg of our road trip.  We'll depart for the 23 hour jaunt home in the morning...with ice in the cooler and tears streaming down my face as we roll down the driveway.  Rebecca's little hands grabbing at the air in a one-year old "goodbye" and Sam's little face shrinking in the background.

I created a photo/video montage of this leg of the journey.  The "Father's Day Weekend with Dad" portion.  I wanted to be only a click away from Sam's little voice and Becca's little ambling legs.  Oh, geography....it keeps me so far from all of these children and grownups that I love...yet, keeps me near to other children and grownups I love.  The agony of a California-Washington split.

Enjoy the montage...it's quite long...or not.  Soon I'll be home again and making coffee in between picture downloads.  Or perhaps we should get high-speed internet?

This fly simply won't leave me alone.  Maybe it's sending me a message, "It's 3am...you're driving 8 hours tomorrow...go to sleep."

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Home again, home again, jiggety-jog

Playing ping-pong with some of my favorite people.   Courtney, my best friend since we were 9 years old, her 2 year old son, Abram, and Daniel.  Courtney has played since she was little...her son, Jonah, is also talented.  Luckily, they divided up the Californians.

 Can Abram's sweet face be any cuter?

The friends (and my matron-of-honor...please don't forget the champagne, Courtney).

The river rafters set out for our majestic day down the river.  Carl, Court's husband, is always our trusty guide.

Courtney's oldest son, Jonah (and my Godson) and Abram.

Shane (my brother) and Kathy (his wife) arrive at my dad's house.  Little Becca is shy.

My dad, Steve, with all of his granddaughters.  Rebecca, Emily, and Claire.

My step-sisters, Rachel, Leah, and Krista (and their families) gave us an early wedding gift.  We wish they could come!  The big day is only 3 weeks away.

Sam loves him some Uncle Daniel.

Great minds and trouble makers

Along a tree-lined street, on a shaded porch, with the fountain gurgling and the pink sashimi piled high, we celebrated Daniel & John's birthdays.  My mom throws quite the party...not only does she prepare cocktails, but the drink of the birthday boy's desire.  Shrimp bathed in cocktail sauce, spicy almonds, egg-fried rice, garlic asparagus and sweet scallops were on the menu.  With a final jolt of chocolate-dipped strawberries and cheesecake.

 

Gin, vodka, vermouth, orange bitters, twists of lemon and orange, shakers with ice, and olives scurried around our martini glasses.  I gagged on mine and quickly added orange juice and splenda (yes, gasp) to be able to get it down.

 

 

And finally, the birthday boys opened their gifts.  Both giving cards by the same artist.  One said "great minds think a like" and the other "trouble makers rock."  You'll have to click on the picture to figure out which card was for which man.

It was a perfect sunny day to spend at my mom's.   Both of these guys are the cat's meow.  I get to purr with mine up the coast for a two week road trip.

And when will Claire have the baby?

Full circle

Sometimes I just need to ask for help.  And when I do.  I get it.  The list of "to do" items for the wedding continues to build.  Nothing is being added...it's just a matter of crunch time.  The calendar now whispers that flowers be ordered, grandparents be asked about their boutonniere/corsage wishes, rehearsal dinners thrown together...and the invitations. Eighty of these little suckers need to be printed and put together and mailed this week.  I saved us a few pennies by picking up invites at Michael's.  They are nice and simple...and a complete painin the arse.  The printer doesn't suck them up properly and some of you dear readers will soon have a chance to see the off-center, smeared, squirly invites next week.

But I got Mr. Daniel (aka Mr. Thesis) to spend some quality time hovering over the printer. And sometimes I just need his time.

If time is what I want....now I'm going to get it.  Here's the handsome graduate of CSU Fullerton.  A recipient of a Master's of Economics.  A writer of a 52 page "wind-energy-policy" thesis.  It was a beautiful work printed upon cotton sheets, signed with flowing ink from his panel members, invisible blood, sweat, and tears (of my ducts) watermarked the pages, if held up to the light.  The journey was long.  Months and months of his shiny head bent over the desk, fingers plugging at keys, eyes soaking in the luminous Excel screens and policy pdf's.  Quick dinners eaten with a distant and weary gaze.  Countless weekends and evenings spent alone...although sharing the same house.

But it's done!  He's graduated.  Graduate school is completed.  I am so proud and happy (for him and for us).

And now we're here...in Las Vegas.  Tying ribbons on the invitations.  Taking care of his Lola.  Soaking in the buttery warmth and comfort of his family's home.  His mind belongs once again to the world.  His eyes shine brighter, his sleep comes quicker, and his heart now widens to embrace the needs of his family. 

I've never taken part in the daily care of a grandparent.  Combing their hair, mashing their food, putting on their chapstick, lotioning their feet.  This family cares as much for their older members as most care for their babies.  There is no nursing home.  No weekly visits forced upon grandchildren.  Awkward halls and meeting rooms with bingo and applesauce and sullen attendant faces.  Instead, Lola Rose, sits below photos of family, cruises down the stone floors with a loved one at her side, listens to angelic singing and naps wrapped in worn blankets from long ago.

Life comes full circle.

The Showers of March

It's a Monday afternoon.  I am fully-caffeinated and just finished uploading and captioning photos on Snapfish for two showers.  A baby shower and a bridal shower.  The baby shower was for Claire.....amazing, radiant, mama-to-be, Claire.  She has such an incredible group of friends....and at the risk of sounding odd ...I want them to adopt me.  She's cobbled together this group of women who whether flying in from New York, spilling stories with an Atlanta drawl, or rattling through a Dr. Seuss book, seem genuine, vibrant, and kind.  This circle of women surrounded her on Saturday, wishing her strength and love as a mother, promising to always support and nurture as friends, receiving henna tattoos and giving books and beads and hugs.  And not to mention the table spread with thousands of calories of cheesy quiches, cheesy grits, salads bursting with boysenberries and pecans, red velvet cupcakes swirled with cream cheese frosting and melons carved into swans (I claim the fowl sculpture). It was simply a lovely day...lavished in Venice Beach fog and ending with wine along Abbot Kinney. 

Parking was a nightmare but it forced a lengthy walk along the Venice Canals.  Who lives in these houses?  I wondered.  I saw a teenage boy sprawled out on an orange sofa in an enormous corner house.  He was reading a book.  I stood there pondering what life is like in a house on the corner of a canal.

And seriously, how does Lien walk in these shoes?  I don't have the guts to even consider these shoes.  Daniel eyes lit up when he saw this picture.  I promise some day I'll get some sexy heels and at least dangle them off my curvy feet before bed.

And the bridal shower...well, that was for me.  Claire, along with the other two bridesmaids, lives far away.  So, she conspired with Courtney and friends and family to hold this shower on the same weekend she was in LA.  Quite a thoughtful maid!  And it was with a butterfly stomach and a cute new dress that we drove down to my Aunt Barbara's seaside bungalow.  It was a day filled with sand storms and lilac roses; wild flower nests stuffed with French chocolate and cranberry-orange muffins; luxurious macaroni and cheese with buttery crumbs and truffles; Barcelona chocolate umbrellas and berry trifle with lemon curd; strong coffee sipped from delicate china cups and mimosas....plenty of mimosas.  And thank God for the alcohol because as much as I crave the focus and attention of students at the front of the classroom...it is quite different sitting at the head of a long table --- taking a funny quiz on Daniel, opening cards with sweet sentiment, receiving a cookbook from Claire filled with pages of recipes, photographs, and advice from all the guests and lovely gifts for both bedroom and kitchen.

I feel truly special...and the wedding feels within reach.  This was the first full-blown "nuptial related" event.  I've gone dress shopping with friends, discussed plans with many, but this day I was 100% bride-to-be.  And to my amazement and jitters...I also saw for the first time my new name all written out upon a card.  The loops of my new identity crawling across the paper.....Do I really have to use "Mrs."?

The women who gathered were from so many phases of my life....ranging from birth, to serving pie at Marie Calender's, to fearing the black boots approaching at 826LA, to dancing off the coast of West Africa, to teaching teenage pirates (lunch ladies shown here).  All women who exude strength, wisdom, and vitality.  It was nice being the center of attention....I suppose on the "Big Day" this will be the case once again.  I'll accept it, relish it, and try and be present in the moment....and hopefully have a few drinks!

And after a long weekend of showers and a counter filled with leopard-print lingerie, Croatian liquor, and an immersion blender....what did I do?  Well, I popped popcorn in our shiny new wok.  I may not yet be gourmet...but nibbling spicy popcorn and watching 1/2 of The Piano was the perfect ending to the weekend.

Circle of Friends

Lately, Daniel and I have spoken often of friends.  I've struggled with the term...both knowing when it belongs to someone and when it has ceased to signify the bond.  I feel friends slipping through my fingertips...their faces, their laughter, their connections fading.  I know that it's not personal; rather it's geography, babies, husbands, careers, and affairs of the heart.  But it doesn't mean it stings any less when the thought of them crosses my mind and there's such distance.  Is this just a natural part of establishing a family, getting married, growing up?  Has my relationship, my wedding planning, my job-hopping exacerbated the issue?  I lost my cell phone two weeks ago and with it all of my contacts.  It struck me this afternoon how many names had disappeared - numbers that I won't make the effort to recapture - relationships that have silently stilled.

I don't have sisters.  I've always wanted one and I've been extremely envious of those who have them.  As a little girl, I imagined a sister with whom I'd spend my summer nights.  We giggled, pinched, and salivated over boys that rode the school bus.  As a teenager, we shared a mutual fear of our father's booming voice, the torture of acne, the discomfort of facing the scale during PE class, and the devastation of divorce. 

My entire life I've watched my mother interact with her two sisters.  A few minutes ago I called her to catch up and they were all there, sitting around the table with my grandma.  She says she'll call me right back but I know that brevity doesn't exist in their world.  What would that be like?  To have a bond since birth and until death, to share parents, and childhoods and adult loves and loss?  I know that I glamorize it...and I'm sure the relationship takes nurturing like any other....but girlfriends just seem to keep floating into the horizon.  Would sisters do that?  Sure, I laugh with my friends, we joke, we chat; and yet, I keep noticing more are slipping out to sea.  A few I beckon back to shore....while others I'm secretly filled with relief that the wind has caught their sails...and even lightly blow in their direction.

Both Daniel and I crave friendships of mind and soul....with people who live nearby.  Is is selfish to wish for friends that aren't "geographically-challenged"?  We both share vibrant connections with people who dot the world map...but tomorrow night, when I have a crispy portion of "un-fried" chicken and an extra glass of wine there will be no takers.  No one with whom kids, schedules, former affections, or drama doesn't impede from stopping over...or being invited.

I watched Daniel recently interact with his college friends Ryan & Heather.  His smile beamed as we walked in.  Hugs were strong, long, and solid.  Through my NyQuil-induced coma, I could hear his voice echoing into the sunlit hours of morning, as him and Ryan shared inside jokes.  It was a voice and laughter that only comes from him in the presence of close friends.  A loose version that I watch melt into the room.  Over pancakes, Heather spoke of her love for "Crazy Dan" and the strength of their friendship.  I relished watching him over this past weekend in Vegas.  These people know him and appreciate his goodness and call him on his sh-t, too.  Their rough and tumble boy, Dominic, also shines as yet another child cast in the net of our beloved children.

At the end of the day, I am fortunate and grateful.  Okay, I don't have sisters...but I have step-sisters and sister-in-laws.  And I don't have friends down the street who stop over, grab a beer from the fridge, and ask "How are you?" ....truly wanting a lengthy response...but I do have a car, a phone, a computer, and access to planes that could take me to the women in my life who really do want to know more about my apprehension over my dad's looming test results, the grad. school confusion, and the center pieces.

**And the inspiration for today's post....this video.

Two cute nephews!

If there are two cuter nephews on a blog today, then please let me know....otherwise: I win, I win!  Say hello to Trevor and Caiden.  My youngest step-sister Heather's two little boys.  Trevor piles into your lap and even though his memory of me must be somewhat fuzzy...he snoozles and hugs and laughs with ease.  And Caiden, well, there is no more relaxed baby than this little guy.  His entire body melts into your arms, his blue-blue eyes look curiously around the room, his feet twitch as you eat, his lips smack, and he drools at the site of food.  And pinchers...he has some quick ones.  If you click to enlarge this photo, his recent neck grab is visible.

Geography is such a dramatic component of relationships with children.  My friend Mara's seven children, who live just a few blocks down the street, have each witnessed my face, influence, and love multiple times per week for most of their lives.  While my brother's children, whose photographs and video make my heart burst and my soul ache to hold them, live painfully far and I see them maybe twice a year.  Sure, I make cheesy videos saying "Happy Birthday" and send little trinkets but do they know me?  When they see me, does their heart pitter-patter because they know that animal voices, tickling, and silly songs are probable?  Do they have a nickname for me...or do their parents have to point to my picture on the fridge to remind them who I am?

My last weekend of holiday vacation ended in a saturated sphere of domesticity.  I relished my .6 loss (over the holidays mind you!!!) at WW,  took vigorous notes at the first (of many) wedding planning sessions with my mom, then went to Downey for a knitting session with Summer and Darcy.  Here is the "before"...a simple square of knitting.

 

 

And here is the after....my, look at this fine purse!  I'm using the same yarn for a long scarf...since someone "borrowed" mine from a dinner party.  Photos of that completed project to come.

The challenge of the week- can I knit instead of eat?  This might end up to be a really really really long scarf.

Melancholy bliss

There's a subtle stream of melancholy intertwined with my bliss these days.  Last night, as we were approaching home after a mediocre "let's order all new things" sushi experience, I requested that we drive over to Mara's.  I simply can't get enough lately.  Something about holding the warm, little, silky-wrapped Rafaela brings such joy to my heart.  I smiled, sang sweet whispered songs, and rocked her for an hour.  I tell myself that,  "we'll be back."  I console my spirit with, "we'll only be gone 4 months."  But in those months she'll bloom into a personality.  First roll overs, belly laughs, and grins of recognition will be missed.  In July, I'll recapture moments during our few last weeks here before moving for 2-3 years to Daniel's MBA grad. school of choice. 

We still await the decisions from Berkeley, University of Michigan, Yale, and the University of Texas at Austin.  All four schools issue decisions by mid-February; however, without an invitation to an interview by late January, it can be assumed there will be no admission.  So far, only University of Michigan has interviewed him (and it went well!).

It's unusual for me to have so little planned out.  I am usually highly organized and plotted for several years into the future.  Risky, fly-by-night decisions have never been my forte.  It won't be until April, as we backpack in South America, that Daniel will make his final decision of where we'll go (assuming there are numerous offers).  This decision will be based upon the financial aid packages offered, the potential professional networks, quality of life, teaching opportunities, and pout of my lips.

There's a sumptuous air about Long Beach this morning. Rain storms have booted the funky port smog into the valley and the brisk air whistles a cleansed autumnal tune.  En route to The Coffee Cup for breakfast, we peeked into the new corner store, El Mesa (shown here).  The family has been preparing to open their Greek and International deli market for weeks.  We've watched the walls turn blue, cases erect, and old Greek men sit on stools around high tables late into the night.  Imported tin oil containers, vats of shriveled black olives, lamb gyros, baklava, and those super-sweet shredded wheat-looking pastries await my trembling fingers behind the case.  I hope they feel welcome in our neighborhood.  I hope their door bells chime and their register rattles with business.  We'll make our first purchase tomorrow....hopes run high. 

I made a little display today of our Christmas cards.  These cards and our two stockings are the only remnants of holiday spirit in our house.  It's cute how few of my family and friends know Daniel's last name, thus, write my name and just "Daniel" on the envelope.  I just love that they include him...especially my grandparents for whom "cohabitation sans marriage" is not an ideal situation.  I wonder if one day I'll send out Christmas cards.  Every year I consider it...then never follow through.  I bought a box of recycled soy-ink cards this year...and they'll probably sit in their box until next year.  Would I receive more cards if I sent some? 

I have eight cards this year (shown here).  I relish the glitter, photos, and update letters.  Everyone always sounds so happy in their letters.  I suppose it's not the time to lament about your ho-hum life,stagnate relationships, or regrettable choices.  I must confess my most beloved sentiment this year is found underneath the galloping golden reindeer.  My former student, Elysse, wrote: "You are such an awesome human being.  Your love for others is truly great."  Yes, you read that correctly, "a former student."  These words are from a teenager.

Can someone please tell me how you raise a teenager who would take the time to write cards to former teachers and hand deliver them during their college winter break?  I truly hope to help raise this type of child.  It is a far fetch...and I certainly think her Filipino roots and strong family ties have something to do with the respect and kindness she's always shown.  Don't we all wish to have the students that teachers compliment during happy hour?  The kids who we praise for their hearts, minds, potential, and respect?  So many teens can act proper when their parents are in the room...but how many, like Elysse, long after their parents drive away, always shake your hand with eye contact, ask sincere questions, offer to help you and others, and remain positive and kind despite obstacles?

And this lovable photo of my brother's children....I mean who can beat this for Christmas?  They have both grown so much since my last summer squeezes and kisses in August.  I await their February visit with twiddling thumbs and tapping toes.  I just hope and pray that Shane and Kathy want to go out on a date...leaving my mom and I to frolic alone with the munchkins.  My, my, my, how I love me these kidlets.  They have squishy lambchop legs, chomper cheeks, wispy hair, and I have a broken heart that they live so far away.  I envision stopping by on my way home from work just to take Sam to the park to feed the ducks.  Or maybe Rebecca needs me to read her a story or sing her a song.  I know they'll never know how cool I could have been as an Auntie.  Sure, I'll have them for summer visits as teenagers, and in college, they'll stop by on their road trips with friends en route to Mexico...but these young years...as Sam plays his first t-ball game and Becca cuts her first teeth...these moments I miss.

Damn geography.  If I could just pinch the map, crinkling poor Oregon and Northern California together, I'd rub up against Central Washington.  They could still keep their snow and we'd brown in our sunshine...and the munchkins would be just down the street.