Finding adventure in every day.

Eat dirt, carpal-tunnel syndrome

Posted on May 2, 2013

I think I have carpal-tunnel syndrome.

For the last three-days (or has it been longer?), I’ve had a terrible shooting pain on the inside of my arm from my elbow to my wrist. It feels better when I shake it but when I stop it hurts again.Webmd.com lists this as a symptom so I probably have carpal-tunnel syndrome. I’m sure no one will believe me when I tell them because everyone things I’m a hypochondriac but it makes sense. I’m a writer. I type a lot. My hands also fall asleep when I sleep, so much so that it wakes me up in the middle of the night. I’m aware of how ridiculous that one sounds but it’s true.

I wonder if that’s a symptom of carpal-tunnel syndrome.

Pregnancy is also a symptom – wait, I take that back. Pregnancy is also a cause of carpal-tunnel syndrome.  I’m already terrified as it is to be pregnant. Once you start knowing people who have had babies you learn about the gross/terrifying/painful things that happen when you have a baby. Those things scare me but I’m also afraid I’ll start wanting to eat dirt.

That seems like something I would do.

But back to carpal-tunnel.

One of my middle school teachers had to have surgery for her carpal-tunnel. I don’t remember her name but she was a doctor. I’m not sure which kind exactly but I’m sure she diagnosed her own carpal-tunnel. She terrified me with her story of the surgery and how painful it all was (why does everyone insist on being so terrifying?) and then I saw her scars. Also terrifying.

Beau said that today they can do carpal-tunnel surgery with a laser but I’d rather just wear one of those wrist splints.

My middle school teacher, the doctor, had to wear one of those. Not attractive.

I’ll be right back.

Well I’ve looked it up and numbness is also a symptom of carpal-tunnel so it’s pretty much a sure thing now. I also just wasted 27 minutes watching YouTube videos on how to relieve carpal-tunnel syndrome but I can’t trust those people — you should SEE some of their fingernails.

Anyway, at least I’m not craving dirt.

Categories: health and fitness, satire
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29 Things I Know For Sure

Posted on April 27, 2013

This post was supposed to be a 29th birthday gift to myself in February. I never was very timely with gifts.

All things considered, I’m not sure I know a lot about very much. I still don’t understand algebra (and have given up trying) and I struggle greatly to understand the basics of photography (why does everything seem backwards?). I don’t know how to drive a stick shift (DAD, SERIOUSLY) and I’m not entirely sure unplugging my toaster makes a big difference for the environment (and if we’re being completely honest, recycling either).

But in my 29 years I’ve figured out a few things that I know to be true. I know that gardening is good for the soul and humans do not change to their core. I know that giving up is never the answer and that love and knowledge are the best gifts to give and receive.

Here are 29 other things I know for sure. I can’t wait to see what I learn over the next 30.

1. There is an art to conversation.
2. Marathons aren’t mandatory.
3. Most restaurant tomatoes can’t be trusted.
4. Parents are real people too.
5. There are stupid questions. I’m sorry but there are.
6. Rescued animals make the best companions.
7. You don’t become successful worrying about what other people think.
8. Meat, dairy, sugar, and fried things really aren’t good for you. Make them a treat.
9. If your body says there’s something wrong and the doctor says there isn’t. Listen to the former.
10. Saying No is one of the most difficult skills to master.
11. You probably won’t be friends forever.
12. Never let your insecurities get in the way of your happiness.
13. It’s important to learn how to care for another living thing whether it’s a child, fish, cat, or plant — not advised in that order.
14. Exercise doesn’t have to take place in a gym.
15. He’s not worth it.
16. A hand-written note is.
17. TV is a time suck.
18. If it feels wrong, don’t do it.
19. Someone loves you.
20. You must travel. Some way, some how. You must.
21. “The Joy of Cooking” is the only cookbook you need. Anything after that is a bonus, especially if it’s by Julia Child.
22. Loyalty goes a long way.
23. Forgive, be kind, succeed, be honest and sincere, create, be happy, do good, and give it your best anyway.
24. Everything must come to an end…but it’s never really the end.
25. You have to laugh.
26. Diagnosing yourself on the internet is a bad idea.
27. You can always be a better listener.
28. We all have the same number of hours in a day.
29. Don’t take it for granted. Any of it.

Categories: satire

A Weekend in Key West

Posted on April 20, 2013

A few weekends ago, Beau invited me down to Florida for an impromptu visit to Key West. It was my first time there and aside from getting bit by a pelican and a sunburn on my scalp, it was wonderful.

Most of it. The way I see it, there are two kinds of Key West and these days I like to avoid the drunk-until-you-pick-a-fight scenes. So we avoided Duval Street — Coyote Ugly, Sloppy Joe’s and all — in exchange for a very quiet weekend.

My very favorite part was visiting the Hemingway Home. As a lover of Hemingway (not that kind obviously), cats, and historic homes, I was pretty much in heaven. Check out our weekend in  photos below!

  • Hungry Tarpon
  • Corona
  • The kind of tourist spot you don't mind
  • Feeing the very hungry tarpon
  • Little DEVIL BIT ME. Well not this exact one.
  • Room service
  • Breakfast on the balcony
  • Key West food truck
  • Roosters everywhere...
  • Tough ones too.
  • No words.
  • Peeking into the garden
  • Hemingway's cats: siting room
  • Hemingway's cats: bedroom
  • Hemingway's cats: patio
  • Hemingway's cats: cat haven
  • Hemingway's cats: poolside
  • Hemingway's pool
  • Hemingway's cats: paw prints
  • Beau and Hemingway cat
  • Surely he's blinded by the white
  • Ernest Hemingway's trunk
  • Ernest Hemingway's office
  • Hemingway's cats: bench kitten
  • Hemingway's cats: bench kitten
  • Hemingway house: bathroom vanity
  • Hemingway house: bedroom
  • Hemingway house: former walkway
  • What would have been the best Hemingway cat picture ever had it not been for an obnoxious tourist scaring him off. And I don't mean me.
Categories: books and writers, travel
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Please stop $elling out

Posted on February 5, 2013

I have plenty of vices and guilty pleasures.

I binge eat and purge closets. I tend to drink too much and about 1/3 of my favorite songs have lyrics that are degrading to women. I would eat chicken and waffles from Maxine’s every day of my life if my ass would allow it and if we’re being completely honest here, I really like Hootie and the Blowfish.

But there’s one thing that I pretty much won’t touch.

Celebrity gossip.

I’m not positive but I’m fairly certain that gossip magazines and websites are at least 42% of everything that’s wrong with the world. They’re voyeristic, they’re trashy, they’re brain-rotting.

Beau and I recently watched the movie, $ellebrity and while it’s not the most brilliant documentary I’ve ever seen, it was worth a watch. The film examines celebrities, the paparazzi, the publishing world, and the entertainment industry with commentary from Kid Rock, Jennifer Lopez, Sarah Jessica Parker, Jennifer Aniston, Elton John, Sheryl Crow, Salma Hayek, and Rosanna Arquette.

Yeah, that last one threw me a little too.

I wish I could say that I understood the fun in sitting down with US Weekly or on perezhilton.com and devouring every detail about the life of strangers ESPECIALLY when it’s probably not even the truth. But I don’t. I don’t get it. Of course there’s the paparazzi vs. celebrity debate, “it comes with the job…they signed up for it…” but that’s another discussion. I want to know why my well-educated, interesting friends care. I want to know why CNN is running ‘Real Housewives’ “news” on the ticker. I want to know why our culture has no shame.

I give fashion and lifestyle magazines and websites a little more leeway. Why? Because the majority of the time the images are a previously arranged agreement between the publication and the subject. They have some control.

So right about now, I’m sounding a little holier than thou (don’t forget….Hootie). Or maybe that I’m above it all. Guess what?

I am.

And so are you.

There’s a scene in the film where two “every day women” turn the tables of the conversation. How would they feel if a strange man followed them, yelling in their children’s faces, as they walked to school? One of the women broke down into tears at the thought. Is the thought of someone doing this to your child disturbing? I’m guessing yes. So why is it okay to support that behavior by buying these magazines and clicking those links? It isn’t. If not for them, stop buying into it all for your own good.

Think about all of the other things you could be doing instead of getting sucked into TMZ or flipping through US Weekly.

You could email your mom back! Find a new recipe to make this weekend! Read something from the best-seller list! Organize your calendar! Write a love letter! You get the point. Do anything but inspect Cameron Diaz’s cellulite and count Angelina Jolie’s kids.

You’re more interesting than that. If you’re not….quit $elling out and I promise, you will be.

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Categories: current affairs, film

Dear Mama

Posted on January 15, 2013

We didn’t always get along the best, you and I.

Both headstrong and stubborn, independent and driven, but the same in so many ways.

Living under the same roof wasn’t always easy but maybe you weren’t aware of how glamorous and creative and beautiful I thought you were…and maybe that was a little scary to see me grow up so fast.

The thing is, I had never been anyone’s daughter before but as far as I know, you hadn’t been anyone’s mother either.

I can’t remember if I said much, the times I came to visit you in the hospital, although I can only hope that I made you feel wanted and loved and strong. Long after you recovered from your first cancer (stage four lung, then brain, and can you believe it’s been NINETEEN years?), I interviewed you for a college project and asked you about your life. You told me about your career as a young, trendy hairstylist and boyfriends who wanted to marry you, and hot little cars. You bought your own Corvette (more than one, actually) do you have any idea how cool that was to me?

Then you told me about meeting my Dad (I will always listen to what psychics have to say) and then you told me again, as if I had never heard it before, the day that I was born and Dad accidentally drove you to a psychiatric hospital.  Then, when you finally arrived at the real one, they told you to go home and have a nice, stiff drink. I’d show up on my own sweet time.

You still can’t drink gin and tonics to this day but don’t worry, I can.

But the thing that sticks out the most — the thing that I’ll never forget — is when you told me about the story of when you first got sick. You said, “Dying wasn’t an option, I had two kids to take care of.” Mom, I’m sure I didn’t let it show at the time — I’m not very good at that and I’ve always had lots of people to act strong for, but I’ve never felt so truly, so genuinely, so unselfishly loved in my entire life.

You only recently told me the story about Mrs. C and how every day after your radiation, you would stop by her house for tea. She had been through cancer too but when her’s came back, she called you. She called you every day, including the day she died, when she asked you to visit. You told me that you brought her a soft, stuffed puppy dog  (I can’t shake how appropriate that seemed) and how she poured her heart out to you and told you all of the hopes and dreams she had for her children. And when you asked her what she was going to do, she said, “I don’t know, I’ve never died before” and that, well, that just about killed me.

Those boys didn’t get to have to their mom as long as I’ve had you and they should have because she was wonderful. But you were wonderful too and I’m not sure I’ve appreciated you as much as I should have.

Even though the one time you said you were bringing me a “surprise” from your day out shopping, you arrived with a potato peeler. I shouldn’t have been so disappointed. I’d be happy to peel potatoes with you any day.

When I moved across the country, that was a little too far. I may have been an old soul but California isn’t the place to be when you don’t know who you are yet. But then again, I started on gin and tonics at a young age.

We got along much better when I moved less than 10 minutes away, didn’t we? You seemed proud that I had my own place and was doing my own thing. Well, you should have been, you were my inspiration…and the reason I wanted to live 10 minutes away.

Now I’m a five hour drive from home and most days, that doesn’t seem close enough. I still get frustrated when you don’t understand call waiting and I’m sorry for losing my patience the other day about the description of a ramen noodle.

Because when it comes down to it, you’ve taught me more than either of us will probably ever know about life and death and all of the stuff in between.  And I don’t say thank you enough for it.

So in my ever-so-awkward way, I’m trying to say thank you for choosing to live and for teaching me to do the same.

Happy Birthday, Bailey.

Categories: relationships
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Come here often?

Posted on January 9, 2013


I spend about 1/3 of my day writing. Writing for the people and the organizations that pay me and on occasion, a few that don’t. I write emails, and to-do lists, text messages and tweets, Facebook updates and grocery lists, interview notes and articles…it never ends. So when the time comes to sit down and write a blog post here — oh, wait — that never happens. And on the off-chance it does, I usually procrastinate as to not face the fact that I’ve failed to be one of those bloggers who writes consistently and shares beautiful photos and is so great they wind up in some of my favorite magazines and I feel like a totally failure.

Just kidding.

Sort of.

My last blog post was on November 4th, which means I haven’t written here in over two months — by far the longest I’ve strayed since I began this blog. Shortly after writing that post, I thought about giving the whole blog thing up entirely…for about three minutes. Then I realized, my blog didn’t have to die. While it’s no longer my full-time focus, I still think my little corner of the Internet deserves a fighting chance.

If not for you, for me; to have a place that’s my own. It’s not perfect and I’m not entirely sure where it’s going (NOTE: THINGS YOU’RE NEVER SUPPOSED TO ADMIT ON A BLOG) but I wouldn’t be me without it.

In fact, some of the people I’ve crossed paths with over the last few months may not even know that it exists. And that’s weird for me. But it’s okay.

I always knew I loved to write but this blog was where I realized that there were people who might just actually enjoy what I wrote about (and a few that didn’t but they can ::makes inappropriate gesture at the screen::). When it comes to writing, it was my first true love.

A lot of bloggers will tell you they write for their readers. Their fans. The people that make them get up every morning, sit down with their coffee, and write about their lives on the Internet. This is not that blog and I am not that girl. Call me crazy, but I believe you should write for yourself first. Because if I don’t want to be here, than the reader (you) sure as hell doesn’t either.

Plus, I don’t drink coffee.

So in my twisted and round about way, I’m telling you that I’m glad we’re both here. I’m not going to write if I don’t want to and save us both the misery. If you simply can’t stay away from my poetic wordsmithing – you can always find me happily typing away over at The Indianapolis Star.

But without making any promises, I think I’ll start coming here more often.

Categories: satire, writing

Inbetweener Halloweener

Posted on November 4, 2012

Halloween has always been a big deal for me. I didn’t stop trick or treating until early high school. I don’t know if that’s normal or not but I know I had already been drunk once or twice by then so I’m guessing not (don’t judge, it’s legal in my paternal homeland).

My love for the holiday is right up there with Christmas and Thanksgiving. You can have your Valentine’s Day and Easter but the holidays between October and December? I can’t get enough of ‘em.

Most of my affection for Halloween is based around some really happy memories. When I was four and my family was somewhat functional, my Aunt made me the most amazing lion costume — I still have it somewhere. My brother? A little gray mouse. We decorated the front windows of our home with the same decorations, year after year (parents, if you ever throw away that weird paper mache witch piñata, I’ll just die) even though we didn’t get trick or treaters to our house.

It was also exciting because it was the end of the race season, so we got our Dad back — who just happened to be a very talented pumpkin carver. Outside always smelled like burning leaves and my brother always shared his candy if I missed trick or treating due to strep throat (It happened at least twice, I was a sickly child).

This year, Beau and I carved pumpkins with his offspring the weekend before Halloween night. Call it getting old or whatever you will but I had no desire to dress up and head out to any parties – aka bars. BLECH. Side note: whatever happened to having really extravagent house parties — not the kinds with kegs, the classy ones (I hear they existed once). When Halloween night arrived, I stopped at the grocery store where I spent far too long staring at the candy. I don’t really even like candy. I bought some Swedish fish just to feel like I was a part of it all. On the way home, I passed quite a few people out trick or treating with some pretty small children and I felt…envious.Lesalina_pumpkin

Not that I’m itching to reproduce anytime soon (the fact that I call it that says something) but I realized I’m stuck in Halloween pergatory. No kids means I have no one to take trick or treating, no one to dress up in a lion costume, no one to hang strange decorations up for and no one to steal candy from.

::Adds four ticks to the child pro/con list::

Alternatively, I’m too old (that’s not the right word – Sensible? Lazy?) to be hopping around bars on a weeknight. This is not to say Beau and I didn’t have a pleasant evening. We watched Poltergeist with our jack-o-laterns flickering and I had a few Swedish fish but something just felt the slightest bit missing. The good news is, I didn’t wake up feeling guilty the next morning about stuffing my face with candy or cursing a hangover.

I love so much about this time in my life and I wouldn’t want to go back or move any faster to the future. It’s just that sometimes I feel like I live in no man’s land – stuck in between the world of babies and bar hopping.

But next year, I’m going to do Halloween my way.

I just have to figure out what that is.

Categories: holiday, home

This is Me, Writing.

Posted on November 3, 2012

It’s funny what writers go through to do the one thing they should, by definition, be comfortable, confident, and willing if not excited to do.

But no.

We clean out our closets, scrub the shower, watch TV, call estranged friends, read books about writing, pick up knitting…or maybe that’s just me.

Lesalina

I know what I should be doing but I bargain with and make up excuses for myself in order to push it away. Of course, there are the rare occasions when the procrastination brings inspiration. In fact, I wrote most of this post in my head while schlepping shoes out of my closet just a few moments ago. That’s when I realized, I was already half way there.

So I dropped the shoes, I sat down at my computer and here we are.

There’s not much more to say on the matter, because for as long as I’ve been away from my personal writing, I have better things to share with the world than the sorry state of my closet floor – I’m just not sure where to begin.

The other day, one of my editors and I were laughing about how I feel this need to write out what I’m going to say before I say it. I have a habit of writing — I’m not sure what to call them — titles? Headlines? Mission statements? A warning to the reader? Usually I write it out, then delete it when the article/post/story is complete. I don’t know why I do it — maybe to keep myself on track? I don’t know. I guess it’s just my thing.

And now that I’m sitting here writing this, I’m completely aware I’m doing it again. But if that’s what it takes to get my out of the closet (wait, what?) then so be it.

This is me, telling you, I’m going to write now.

Categories: books and writers, creative, satire, writing
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Guest Post: When I Discovered Happiness

Posted on October 21, 2012

Today’s guest post is from Ryan Rivera who writes about anxiety and stress at www.calmclinic.com - which is fitting because this week, I’ll be speaking at Mental Health America of Indiana’s annual ‘Removing the Mask Gala’ about living life with anxiety and depression (and a touch on self-destructive behavior for good measure).

Take a moment today to assess your mental health…you might be surprised at what you find.

Categories: guest posts, health and fitness, relationships

A Fall Feast for the Family

Posted on October 16, 2012

It’s been a long time since my family had dinner together, at least on an evening that wasn’t a holiday. With travel and living in different locations and work – life just gets in the way.

When my parents recently decided to visit me and my brother, I knew that a restaurant just wasn’t the place for us. I was craving them all to myself in a comfortable and familiar setting.

So I did what I always do when I decide to host people for dinner and tried out a brand new recipe (it’s a terrible idea but for some reason I keep doing it). Plus, I was looking for an opportunity to try out the bottle of Pinot Noir the lovely people at Mezzcorona had been so kind to send over – you remember them, don’t you?

Categories: food and drink, sponsored