tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19385549740191392242024-03-13T21:14:39.291-07:00Una VozMy adventures as a fledgling adult trying to find my place in the world.Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.comBlogger61125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-39812157754114920862011-07-26T21:36:00.000-07:002011-07-26T21:36:21.369-07:00Human Rights Council of Washington County<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijCshQR02FxEqM15iF-EAnOnBbmsD5PrdX8VD9A7PezRycKtmMePC9vaPwTv0wsrPg8UXiLcipbwQ4wZSBHQ-xoeinv2yVjr_44AAMt9vqDOByuOqdHZwvtqVKxin9di7sRG-zfxHr7jk/s1600/HRC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijCshQR02FxEqM15iF-EAnOnBbmsD5PrdX8VD9A7PezRycKtmMePC9vaPwTv0wsrPg8UXiLcipbwQ4wZSBHQ-xoeinv2yVjr_44AAMt9vqDOByuOqdHZwvtqVKxin9di7sRG-zfxHr7jk/s1600/HRC.jpg" /></a></div><br />
So, you may have noticed a sidebar on this blog mentioning something about the Human Rights Council of Washington County. Perhaps you are wondering what on earth that is. I figure I've given you enough time to guess, so now I'll try to explain it as well as I can.<br />
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When I moved back to Hillsboro from Corvallis, I wanted to be a part of something that spoke for underrepresented groups in my community. Luckily, I found the HRC, which is made up of all sorts of very intelligent, like-minded people with equality in our community as their (and my) main goal. We sponsor various events around the community that deal with human rights, equality, or even to celebrate amazing people like Martin Luther King, Jr. We also have listening forums with leaders in the community and Oregon to talk about important issues, like immigration, bullying in schools, and hate crimes.<br />
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I really adore being a part of this. I feel like I'm making a difference in my community, or at least trying to. I hate seeing or hearing about the ignorance in my community, and feel that it could be so much better if we all just took the time to listen and learn about the amazing diversity our community has to offer.<br />
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I am a part of the Human Rights Council for so many reasons. First, I like feeling like I'm being proactive in helping my community grow closer and more accepting of the wonderful diversity around us. Second, I have family and friends in this community, and hopefully someday I'll have children growing up in this community, and I want them all to feel safe and accepted for who they are. Third, I just want to feel that it is possible to live in a community where differences are embraced and celebrated.<br />
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I realize that I must sound so idealistic and somewhat naive, but I feel like I'm justified in feeling just tired of all the ignorance and hate in the community. Especially when it's based on such stupid, trivial things that are usually out of one's control. Why does this have to be around anymore? We have so many resources and people available to teach us how to be accepting and reach for equality; I just don't see why so many refuse to use them.<br />
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I'm doing my part to try to make my community a better place all around. If you would like to know how you can do the same, please visit our <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Human-Rights-Council-of-Washington-County/134137099949139">Facebook page</a>, (and "like" us to learn about upcoming HRC events or forums!) or learn more about Human Rights <a href="http://www.youthforhumanrights.org/what-are-human-rights.html">here</a>.<br />
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Equality is not an idea we strive for; it's our goal.Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-41574806245353956472011-07-02T17:47:00.000-07:002011-07-02T17:47:47.120-07:00Twenty Five!You know, birthdays are funny. I remember when I was younger, I would start getting excited about my birthday months before it actually happened. I would seriously lose sleep just thinking about it.<br />
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Now, not so much. I honestly hardly even noticed it approaching, until I realized with a start a few days ago that I indeed, was turning 25 in a few short days. I felt like it took me by surprise, and I felt like I wouldn't even have all that much time to celebrate it, considering I'd be in school most of the day, after having been in school for eight hours every day for the past two weeks. I was exhausted, grumpy, and not totally in a celebrating mood.<br />
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But, life has a way of showing you that you're wrong about most things. That morning, I woke up to a cheerful Evan, who had strung up some "Happy Birthday!" banners and had gotten me some beautiful flowers. He drove me to PSU that morning and I couldn't help thinking that did in fact, have the best fiance in the whole world. Here he was, supposed to be celebrating summer break and instead is getting up with me at 6:15 and driving me to class. As he dropped me off, I couldn't help feeling a little grumpy, because I would have rather spent the day at home with Evan and my flowers than be in class. At least, I thought, I was able to celebrate it a little bit this morning.<br />
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Again, I was wrong. I walked into room 206 on Friday, and was greeted with "Happy Birthday!" from a lot of my classmates. It meant a lot to me, because we've all grown so close. See, we're all enrolled in these week-long classes that get you three credits if you survive until Friday, but it's a lot of intense critical thinking and it's even more sitting. Eight solid hours of class, sitting in uncomfortable little desks from the 50's (the class was held in St.Mary's Academy. Let me tell you; if I was a parent paying upwards of $10,000 a year for my child's education there, I would demand slightly more ergonomic desks) will definitely bring people together.<br />
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The class was taught by an instructor that hailed from the former Soviet Union, and oh my goodness, it showed. She would start class promptly at 8:30 am, and when she gave us "free time" to discuss, she would say things like, "Okay, I will give you 15 seconds to discuss. Discuss. Okay! 15 seconds is up! Back to your seats!" Her motto was, "When I say time is up, finish your sentence, not your paragraph."<br />
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So you can imagine my fear when my friend Julie wanted to take me out to a Lebanese restaurant close to campus on my birthday. I hesitated because our instructor gave us thirty minutes for lunch, and she was spookily accurate on starting class back up as soon as those thirty minutes were over.<br />
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Anyway, Julie showed up on campus with a balloon and flowers and I just couldn't deny her invitation. We went and chowed down on some chicken shwarma, falafels, and hummus. We sat at a small table next to the window and as we caught up, we basked in the amazing sunshine that had also decided to show up on my birthday. I didn't even realize how much time had passed until I looked at my phone and saw that it was 1:13. We had been allowed out for lunch at 12:10. I'm totally going to the gulag, I thought, as I bid Julie a hasty farewell and walked as fast as my very full stomach would allow back to class.<br />
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I tried to sneak into the classroom, but of course, the doors at a Catholic high school are never oiled well, lest you be late, and the entire class turned to welcome my late, huffing and puffing arrival. I walked over to the instructor, balloon bobbing jovially next to me, and tried to explain what had happened. She cut me off, and as I was mentally preparing myself for a USSR style bashing, she said, "It's your birthday, Mariela, and your friends wanted to celebrate. It is okay with me that you are a little late," with a smile and a pat on my shoulder.<br />
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My next surprise that day came from Dimitar, an older, Bulgarian gentleman who has decided that his life's work should be teaching and had joined the BTP cohort with me. He stood to give his final presentation, took a deep breath, and said, "before I begin, I will sing a song. Please feel free to join me if you are familiar with the lyrics." Now, Dimitar is kind of a strange duck, so we were all anticipating the Bulgarian national anthem or something, but instead, he began to sing "Happy Birthday"!! I was totally surprised, and I felt myself blushing as everybody else joined in.<br />
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I'm going to try to figure out when Dimatar's birthday is so I can sing him "Happy Birthday" in Bulgarian.<br />
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After class was over, Evan picked me up and we went to Papa Hyden on NW 23rd. We lucked out and got a table outside, where we feasted on desserts (I had this amazing thing with hazelnut gelato in it) and people watching. It was nice to sit and talk and not have our conversations tinged with stress, because Evan recently found out that he got his job back (yay!) and I was done with school for the time being. I felt okay taking my time and didn't feel any of life's other petty urgencies tugging at my conscience.<br />
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Once we had had enough of dessert and pale people basking in the sun, we met my parents for dinner at Pastini and then went back home for more dessert (funfetti cake!) and presents. I got some amazing things, but I have to say I'm most excited about the Josh Groban concert tickets! My mom and I always joked about seeing him someday, but usually ended up missing him because his tickets tend to a)sell out quickly and b)be astronomically expensive. I really can't wait to experience his concert with my mom though. It's like one of our joint dreams coming true.<br />
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I really felt so loved on my birthday, after feeling like it would simply pass me by because of everything I had going on. It was nice to finally sit back, relax, and truly enjoy my time with those who matter so very much to me. Plus, I got to eat an amazing Lebanese meal, was forgiven by the keeper of punctuality herself, and was serenaded to by a Bulgarian. Pretty awesome birthday, after all, if I do say so myself.Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-28302447344710001482011-05-10T22:27:00.000-07:002011-05-10T22:27:13.196-07:00An amazing person, leaving behind an awesome legacyI recently stumbled upon a headline during my break at work. "Blogger Posts His Own Death."<br />
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Of course, I was intrigued, if not a little confused, as typing may prove difficult in that particular state. I was, however, pleasantly surprised by what followed. See, the article was about Derek K. Miller, who was a pretty well-known blogger in the tech and science circles. He had started his blog about ten years ago, and in 2007, he was diagnosed with stage 4 metastatic colorectal cancer. The posts that chronicle his journey through chemo and radiation, as well as his drive to live a "normal" life despite the fact are nothing short of inspiring.<br />
<br />
And yes, he did ask his family to publish his <a href="http://www.penmachine.com/2011/05/the-last-post">"Last Post"</a> after his death, and it is amazingly well-written and insightful. He doesn't sound angry, bitter, or resentful. Instead, he sounds grateful for the time he had with his family and the experiences he was able to have.<br />
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I love the fact that he was incredibly straight-forward about his particular circumstances. Yes, he had cancer. Yes, it was going to kill him. No, he wasn't going to let it completely consume his life. And really, he didn't let it.<br />
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Derek Miller reminded me that life is still, and is always beautiful, regardless of one's worries and troubles. We get so mired down by the petty things, constantly moving those things up our priority list until we completely lose sight of what's really important. It seemed to me that Mr. Miller never let cancer obscure his vision of what was truly significant to him.<br />
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I'm sorry I just found your words, Derek, but they serve as a powerful reminder that life is full of complications, yet so very precious to us all.<br />
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Here's the link to the blog itself: <a href="http://www.penmachine.com/">http://www.penmachine.com/</a>Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-17145934685548472202011-05-07T13:45:00.000-07:002011-05-07T13:45:53.390-07:00It's only been what, a few months?Hi everybody! I'm not sure you all remember me, but you can just call me the worst blogger every in the history of blogging. And it's not like I haven't wanted to. Trust me. But, life has a way of running away with you, especially when it's stuffed with things like work, graduate school, trying to get rid of this flab in my middle, planning a wedding, and chasing after two rather neurotic cats. If you're reading this, thank you for being so very patient. I appreciate it.<br />
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Life has been pretty great these last few months, but its been marked with moments of uncertainty. Not in regards to the wedding, mind you (unless you count me wondering whether it's <i>really </i>necessary to have menus when we're having a buffet-type dinner) but about where it is I'm going with my professional career. If you've been watching the news at all, you might have noticed that the field of education is not exactly stable. This isn't exactly comforting, as I'm getting my Master's in Education. I feel like a person studying Finance right before the Great Depression. So, there are days when I wonder whether this is the right path for me. Those are the days when I wish I was one of those, "just wait and see what happens," people. Sadly, I'm not. I'm pretty proactive when it comes to my future, especially when said future is proving to be rather expensive at the moment. I don't want to drop thousands and thousands of dollars on something that isn't going to make me happy in the long run. There are those people who say that a job is just that: something to go to for the majority of the day and get paid to do. But I can't subscribe to that school of thought. I want a job where I wake up excited to go and contribute. I just don't know what job that is, yet. And that is somewhat frustrating.<br />
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I realize that I'll figure out someday. But, I want that realization to come sooner than later. When you realize what it is you want to do for the rest of your life, you want that life to start as soon as possible.<br />
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In the meantime, however, I'll appease my troubles with cute little wedding details and my new music obsession, The Weepies. I'll even share one of my favorite songs with you all.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/7vo-YGxnn10" width="480"></iframe></div>Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-85349178808953862332011-01-17T21:44:00.000-08:002011-01-17T21:44:07.706-08:00Playing Catch-UpHey everyone!<br />
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I'm sorry I've been such a slacker at this whole blogging business, but to tell you the truth, I've been having a really amazing couple of weeks. Things have finally calmed down a bit, so I figured I would come here to share a few of my most recent adventures.<br />
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So, my biggest piece of news is....<br />
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I'm ENGAGED!!!!!!!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJc-GC1ByLty6EXyZkGGezuV_cVk2jzxEU0H-jx4SPtnaitNvQI-FmOeyAgja_02VT3OYgWqZpAO4SUBiTFJOrnnDzLO3upF36zBaiADEQ5uX-T616hARNpTTXAvbuYCVn_QVtCVcfl_Q/s1600/Hawaii%2521+017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJc-GC1ByLty6EXyZkGGezuV_cVk2jzxEU0H-jx4SPtnaitNvQI-FmOeyAgja_02VT3OYgWqZpAO4SUBiTFJOrnnDzLO3upF36zBaiADEQ5uX-T616hARNpTTXAvbuYCVn_QVtCVcfl_Q/s320/Hawaii%2521+017.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ring!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjphT731K8n-39vt7oA_XMfkYSiKTcZd9L_NbV6RQoICxJjflQHolVh2h6p2FlAemax5rXlm0nrwJpc35jqFrdmYwbr3Gwrp7Ork4buEcW2_Nj2fOIYUrsXayIS_224jLxvjclVds9VCIg/s1600/Hawaii%2521+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjphT731K8n-39vt7oA_XMfkYSiKTcZd9L_NbV6RQoICxJjflQHolVh2h6p2FlAemax5rXlm0nrwJpc35jqFrdmYwbr3Gwrp7Ork4buEcW2_Nj2fOIYUrsXayIS_224jLxvjclVds9VCIg/s320/Hawaii%2521+019.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The spot where Evan proposed. It was awesome. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9MqCoZy_a09DlYq4FdSXw4wNFYYZ15daygQTWfr3Kwj2lF59eywVQnnw-Xh9PM0MVJ4vAvXkF_PuVmACMPy8vKHWsqUzfgpw-qe5oH5fzUphEL_VtVGVH3Qudvxpd5M5htY5nKY3OcUk/s1600/Hawaii%2521+023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9MqCoZy_a09DlYq4FdSXw4wNFYYZ15daygQTWfr3Kwj2lF59eywVQnnw-Xh9PM0MVJ4vAvXkF_PuVmACMPy8vKHWsqUzfgpw-qe5oH5fzUphEL_VtVGVH3Qudvxpd5M5htY5nKY3OcUk/s320/Hawaii%2521+023.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If I had known that we were going to get engaged, I would have at least put on some mascara and left the thug beanie at the hotel. Oh well! We're engaged! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>It's true; Evan proposed during a mini-vacation to one of our favorite spots, Rockaway Beach. I honestly had no idea he had even been thinking about proposing, and I had been totally oblivious to the fact that he had been talking to his family and mine about asking me to marry him. He actually was hiding the ring under the bed for a week before he proposed!<br />
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Anyway, the proposal was perfect, and of course, I said yes. I can't wait to start this new adventure with him, but at the same time, I'm taking my time enjoying being engaged and am currently poring over wedding magazines and books for wedding ideas.<br />
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Right after we came back from our mini-vacation, we slogged through the last week of school and went on our full-blown vacation with Evan's family to Maui, Hawaii. I was nervous about flying for so long, but Xanax came to the rescue, and as soon as we touched down in Maui, I forgot all about my flight anxiety and settled into an amazing week of relaxation and fun with my fiance and future in-laws (that feels unbelievably weird to type, but in a good way!). Mainly, my days went like this:<br />
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- wake up<br />
- have coffee and cookies while looking admiring the ocean from our balcony<br />
- suit up, lather on sunscreen and beach supplies<br />
- walk the fifty paces down the hall and the ten paces to the beach from the lobby<br />
- plop down on the sand with a book<br />
- turn over<br />
- go boogie boarding<br />
- almost drown (seriously, I was the worst boogie boarder ever)<br />
- more beach/book/mai tai/ shave ice time<br />
- dip in the pool<br />
- walk back upstairs, shower<br />
- have huge, calorie-loaded dinner with everyone<br />
- admire each other's tan/burns (Evan got a really impressive one)<br />
- go to bed<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEickcvfwPCeS3hCL8xq0KqDrnun2w4HB7KUvyXNatpAfhIYUwvYwd_1wQ4a2rmgtP3ir75pP8gc9mSuT3-5MEjuuZPIIO-Xx4HNfNhlSh_K30mYPAjbiDWpo4vpmAIgJoQPQrYKILKORVw/s1600/Hawaii%2521+051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEickcvfwPCeS3hCL8xq0KqDrnun2w4HB7KUvyXNatpAfhIYUwvYwd_1wQ4a2rmgtP3ir75pP8gc9mSuT3-5MEjuuZPIIO-Xx4HNfNhlSh_K30mYPAjbiDWpo4vpmAIgJoQPQrYKILKORVw/s320/Hawaii%2521+051.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My view for most of the day</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYNldIUpTLTPUsuMFlHw2duIkBx1y4j8k2XexqZFXYxVKGMWGs4Tt3ksoD4zuWoNhk9-XlqhhpeHae7HTN75wrHgXUn9VQZMWAD7Ao1A9rCapUiCkMICXH1CaLvnU-O0tr9N00KxUoZyo/s1600/Hawaii%2521+079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYNldIUpTLTPUsuMFlHw2duIkBx1y4j8k2XexqZFXYxVKGMWGs4Tt3ksoD4zuWoNhk9-XlqhhpeHae7HTN75wrHgXUn9VQZMWAD7Ao1A9rCapUiCkMICXH1CaLvnU-O0tr9N00KxUoZyo/s320/Hawaii%2521+079.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy to be in Maui</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir8_V8xyaVDBiIat_oi2ncKq5WMgoUUqT2Gw4Cdptwwwk07yxdtI5a8nxhdTA9DYfTeeHFdVBwvps2cjayDiak8huijVXgTex0HldyXQJdu4WRaqR-0c64VN3DjLgo4kIIqJh36kj0-3w/s1600/December+2010+269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir8_V8xyaVDBiIat_oi2ncKq5WMgoUUqT2Gw4Cdptwwwk07yxdtI5a8nxhdTA9DYfTeeHFdVBwvps2cjayDiak8huijVXgTex0HldyXQJdu4WRaqR-0c64VN3DjLgo4kIIqJh36kj0-3w/s320/December+2010+269.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from our hotel room! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpgtdCtBWLXR96mhr9oYJP-lAMKhHjB8DCHdQ0FgkNPSrNghArpENydpR_lirwomzVOr43eSuu06ImonVhex0LIssLwyQgDFvHUGZBtGuqJ66qlDFqDZPzXS4iwv99b_a4Vo7lbw8qnbM/s1600/PC182658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpgtdCtBWLXR96mhr9oYJP-lAMKhHjB8DCHdQ0FgkNPSrNghArpENydpR_lirwomzVOr43eSuu06ImonVhex0LIssLwyQgDFvHUGZBtGuqJ66qlDFqDZPzXS4iwv99b_a4Vo7lbw8qnbM/s320/PC182658.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evan and I at the Luau</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We also went to a really amazing luau where I ate enough to feed a family of four, and where we met a really cool couple on their honeymoon from Sydney, Australia. We swapped engagement stories.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHIAExszVOK0rwzHWbIOdzRtuo59JWfyG4x3khyphenhyphenCQb-8rv1rWz8lArtRatBeyTf1GAcbGlGPnEv4eZMAYQE4MRRVHw6UUu30drX83Tl02S_AHW1FS98jeW8QnDFJZ0YBxmrBdrVbkals/s1600/Hawaii%2521+150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHIAExszVOK0rwzHWbIOdzRtuo59JWfyG4x3khyphenhyphenCQb-8rv1rWz8lArtRatBeyTf1GAcbGlGPnEv4eZMAYQE4MRRVHw6UUu30drX83Tl02S_AHW1FS98jeW8QnDFJZ0YBxmrBdrVbkals/s320/Hawaii%2521+150.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watching these girls was the best guilt-trip after eating all that food</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnasu651Osa_onihuMuXCfESVX3bNl2BX6-k_NNAOsikXadjTjI3l-TMOhCiJSB7fsYA04tL0xCFvimmD4y4tyhMPpbF6zE-RQJ9mWSlHSElEi4v7TuyG2AEiY_kgEulGYmFPMeF_A7ks/s1600/Hawaii%2521+147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnasu651Osa_onihuMuXCfESVX3bNl2BX6-k_NNAOsikXadjTjI3l-TMOhCiJSB7fsYA04tL0xCFvimmD4y4tyhMPpbF6zE-RQJ9mWSlHSElEi4v7TuyG2AEiY_kgEulGYmFPMeF_A7ks/s320/Hawaii%2521+147.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh yeah. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGOt1hS6fjQmX0PgfHyymvNgE4ygiTjRUDkJR8tg2I3jY8CDMpwSLAdztbgdORbsnZIRAgNEEZaPQEZofx-GttLcnvi7kIoPf2RMIlXkKIS6vr64bFBU8bIMEPIntbpBKRvseqPWAV2ZE/s1600/Hawaii%2521+251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGOt1hS6fjQmX0PgfHyymvNgE4ygiTjRUDkJR8tg2I3jY8CDMpwSLAdztbgdORbsnZIRAgNEEZaPQEZofx-GttLcnvi7kIoPf2RMIlXkKIS6vr64bFBU8bIMEPIntbpBKRvseqPWAV2ZE/s320/Hawaii%2521+251.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of many amazing sunsets</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4VrLNNc8TWTptoqDrfeQt9ROo8EeyCJlwxiw82HQadz8gr0iS-Ds8XAgo1JYLM0m4WcfIu_tVA_2lwvYZyOrJ9TfNLDoa_t560DvY8zL8numuj4bV2OgG7Crfcw_9mcqvIhrQ10cgRqo/s1600/Hawaii%2521+118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4VrLNNc8TWTptoqDrfeQt9ROo8EeyCJlwxiw82HQadz8gr0iS-Ds8XAgo1JYLM0m4WcfIu_tVA_2lwvYZyOrJ9TfNLDoa_t560DvY8zL8numuj4bV2OgG7Crfcw_9mcqvIhrQ10cgRqo/s320/Hawaii%2521+118.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hibiscus flowers grow everywhere! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>I also was introduced to the amazing thing that is Hawaiin Shave Ice. Can you tell I was completely off my diet the whole time I was there? Anyway, we had to have shave ice whenever we saw some, and I'm missing it dearly now that we're back in Oregon. Actually, I'm missing the whole island. It's tough going from 84 degrees to 43.<br />
<br />
We flew back in on December 23rd, and so we only had one night to relax and unpack before getting geared up for Christmas with our families. We spent Christmas Eve with my parents since that's the day we celebrate most (that's just the way Hispanic families roll) and spent Christmas Day with Evan's family. It was a lot of fun to hand everyone their little island goodies. Especially my dad, since he had requested a dashboard hula girl for his car.<br />
<br />
For Christmas, Evan pulled another surprise on me. On Christmas Eve, he handed me an envelope, which had Post-It note in it that was the first in a scavenger hunt. He had me going all over my parent's house, and finally, I ended up in the garage, where I found a vintage leather loveseat that I had been lusting after for months waiting for me! You see, Evan and I had visited Sorel's Vintage on Hawthorne Boulevard one afternoon this summer, and I had completely fallen in love with these leather loveseats. Of course, there was no way we could afford them, so I put them on my mental wish-list and vowed that some day, I would have some just like them. So, imagine my surprise when one shows up for Christmas!<br />
<br />
There are a lot of exclamation points in this post. But really, I was that surprised!<br />
<br />
And then, Evan and I were at his parent's house for Christmas Day, and he handed me another envelope. Again, I was led on another scavenger hunt (which took a lot more effort, because Evan's parent's house is huge) and when I finally made my way back to the living room, there was the second loveseat!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHBN0t8UArEibTDauvZv_5FFZJgZ-HgWmmG7HowpGKY7C4satw0G1pDnuAtNYowI3D8GQd6gi-PsJhY15SsdPomtSzU0jw6TDeWW6P-SGcmVildNseSVUi1SC7MDVrVcL3c9pQp7Vsa_o/s1600/chair+of+awesomeness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHBN0t8UArEibTDauvZv_5FFZJgZ-HgWmmG7HowpGKY7C4satw0G1pDnuAtNYowI3D8GQd6gi-PsJhY15SsdPomtSzU0jw6TDeWW6P-SGcmVildNseSVUi1SC7MDVrVcL3c9pQp7Vsa_o/s320/chair+of+awesomeness.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My chairs are kind of like this, but even more awesome! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>Apparently, Evan had bought the chairs the same day he bought my engagement ring (how I was totally unaware of all this, I really have no idea; I'm not that clueless normally) and had hidden one chair at each house until Christmas. It was awesome, and now both chairs are sitting perfectly in our living room.<br />
<br />
Evan and I were able to relax for a bit at home in the week before school started back up, and on one of those afternoons, my future maid-of-honor, Karla, came over and we decided to kill some time at David's Bridal. Truly, I went in with the intention to just browse and "get ideas." Well, my intentions flew out the window when I spotted some dresses that I liked and Karla said, "you know, you're already here; you might as well try some on." I quickly called my mom (because I couldn't put on a wedding dress without her there) and I ended up finding the absolutely perfect dress for me. Really, it's beautiful. And now, I have to keep it a secret from Evan for the next 16 months or so. I have to have at least a modicum of tradition with this whole thing!<br />
<br />
Before we knew it, we were back at school, and that same Monday I started my winter term at PSU. Luckily, my schedule is a little less heinous than last term, with classes on Monday, Wednesday, and some random Fridays. It gives me a break to read and do homework, which is greatly appreciated. It also helps that I'm getting to know my cohort a little better so those three-hour long classes don't feel quite as long.<br />
<br />
So, yeah. That was my amazing winter break. If you've made it to the end of this post, I'm very impressed. I hope you all had an amazing time with your families and hopefully the new year brings you all sorts of adventures and memories. I am so excited to see what 2011 brings us. Maybe a new leather couch?Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-66059270745725249102010-12-01T21:19:00.000-08:002010-12-01T21:19:52.302-08:00How I FeelThere are just some days, like today, where all I want to do is forget about work, grad school, and the million other things on my mind and just snuggle with my love on the couch. This song pretty much sums up how I've felt on those days.<br />
<br />
<object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/s830CSutPoE?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/s830CSutPoE?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br />
<br />
It's only on days like this, when I come home to such an amazing guy who welcomes my griping, whining, and complaining with a big hug, understanding smile, and a kiss, that I realize that all those other things don't really matter. I guess you could say that overwhelming things are a part of life, but a great love tends to cancel them all out. Thanks, Evan, for reminding me of that. I love you!Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-1540706929081532922010-11-11T21:10:00.000-08:002010-11-11T21:10:41.037-08:00Update in Yays and Nays<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> I'm not totally sure where to start. I guess I should start by saying that this year has gotten off to a great start, and I can only see it getting better. In the spirit of keeping things concise, I think I'm going to just do a "yay" and "nay" post.<br />
<br />
Yay to starting at Portland State University!<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkEulvJLPs8i13ETN-gKiEq5C7qoRR0keMrqE71SZpebI68gpbblkxCSujY_cV0pz7Yv7BkbvTXt5kdpGGRuBjMRIsLwDRhWfB82ZJfNRuPlYLyetWEHh6jA-ZX5Mns8q6_fNwVEeSNIQ/s1600/images+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkEulvJLPs8i13ETN-gKiEq5C7qoRR0keMrqE71SZpebI68gpbblkxCSujY_cV0pz7Yv7BkbvTXt5kdpGGRuBjMRIsLwDRhWfB82ZJfNRuPlYLyetWEHh6jA-ZX5Mns8q6_fNwVEeSNIQ/s1600/images+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PSU = Rhinoceros</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Nay to feeling like I've been run over by a rhinoceros by Thursday of every week. I am taking 3 classes, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, plus working full-time. Oy.<br />
<br />
Yay to after-class beers with my fellow grad students<br />
<br />
Nay to realizing that I am not a real college student anymore and do actually have to go to work at 7:30am the next day after I have an after class beer. <br />
<br />
Yay to realizing that after 18 months of feeling like this, I will have my own awesome classroom, and I will be able to teach my own way.<br />
<br />
Nay to knowing that in the meantime, I have to work with icky high schoolers and even ickier coworkers. Seriously, they are poo-heads.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> Yay to the fact that the school I work at is super close to the middle of nowhere, which is ideal for escaping the icky highschoolers/coworkers and taking pictures.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG2OaNo64fGL2gqqK-gxK2CbP18DaBPMWPP1MYF-SEZa5DYGvU5yTo2oyemmERMOO19Upmx3D3j8D4i_Nf_LoHg5nny9zJAiKFx4kpCxlemkbjkworieC6vJOryiunwPKNHhBjut95pa4/s1600/railroadtracks2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG2OaNo64fGL2gqqK-gxK2CbP18DaBPMWPP1MYF-SEZa5DYGvU5yTo2oyemmERMOO19Upmx3D3j8D4i_Nf_LoHg5nny9zJAiKFx4kpCxlemkbjkworieC6vJOryiunwPKNHhBjut95pa4/s400/railroadtracks2010.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I almost got run over for this one. Totally worth it. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4fq6RBn3DrWmH0iq1c_u68YEUiIrtVGKFZUjGpQVKG74HLygK8GXpWUyuKOjeTfhBnlnlEFLmDp15I_BQxXYdJwVwZuvGUjYRHkuMy3a7BR8WWJa_8_qInvSNinpSNSLBnEGlMZ7n8Xk/s1600/fieldwbarn2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4fq6RBn3DrWmH0iq1c_u68YEUiIrtVGKFZUjGpQVKG74HLygK8GXpWUyuKOjeTfhBnlnlEFLmDp15I_BQxXYdJwVwZuvGUjYRHkuMy3a7BR8WWJa_8_qInvSNinpSNSLBnEGlMZ7n8Xk/s400/fieldwbarn2010.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6RMJNLE3NEJXMl7iShR51D9SdV3_53EQKXhYmltLSRT8o2MBCAIoBuzyU_azD7z4tBf8mPIPrMNOMH0IeWcFUzv_YvJIFaOGYo9Nu3J-_QwJmyzJu08Pl1O29RkMAHOKwSanNyVArb84/s1600/field+2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6RMJNLE3NEJXMl7iShR51D9SdV3_53EQKXhYmltLSRT8o2MBCAIoBuzyU_azD7z4tBf8mPIPrMNOMH0IeWcFUzv_YvJIFaOGYo9Nu3J-_QwJmyzJu08Pl1O29RkMAHOKwSanNyVArb84/s400/field+2010.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I may actually frame this one. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Nay to not having quite enough time after homework to edit said pictures.<br />
<br />
Yay to spending what precious time I have with my absolutely amazing boyfriend Evan and my family.<br />
<br />
Nay to driving. I hate it, because it's so boring.<br />
<br />
Yay to books on tape. I don't care that it makes me feel 98 years old to have a book read to me, but it's the only time I have. I'd probably listen to NPR if I didn't have a book on tape anyway.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM0nxWMXinzHRKI8i8BYVd9qFVGxnzWY0PnIFr9-ndOJ3RXDzmeTemBjlXxENncGqiE_fvbnw0pc51iI1OwDEhvZnC6LEGNRf3RRT2TDQDQwYBbDvp1sfkExbPO-yU4Xy4M92UJl08o6M/s1600/images+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM0nxWMXinzHRKI8i8BYVd9qFVGxnzWY0PnIFr9-ndOJ3RXDzmeTemBjlXxENncGqiE_fvbnw0pc51iI1OwDEhvZnC6LEGNRf3RRT2TDQDQwYBbDvp1sfkExbPO-yU4Xy4M92UJl08o6M/s1600/images+%25282%2529.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was my book on tape. It was excellent, and I kept trying to find excuses to drive so I could listen. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>Yay also to losing my fear of driving to Portland. It's not so scary anymore, and we've had some awesome adventures/picture opportunities (pretty much interchangeable in my book).<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwWhkjVd4j0VBtgmN1_MssgNiik3lbYFNqvg5JdFFeBowAj04LWosMAlfH47ZRdiHGKowrEaHzqxdK0u-f1dKX-MZCgFyQpG2Co6l_HTCB6T0kdU3bOi5dgiZ5ydhHvXZ-0oXly5qW_XQ/s1600/IMG_3953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwWhkjVd4j0VBtgmN1_MssgNiik3lbYFNqvg5JdFFeBowAj04LWosMAlfH47ZRdiHGKowrEaHzqxdK0u-f1dKX-MZCgFyQpG2Co6l_HTCB6T0kdU3bOi5dgiZ5ydhHvXZ-0oXly5qW_XQ/s400/IMG_3953.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adventure/Photo opportunity at the Pittock Mansion in Portland! </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg3xaYwDpRDPo1_Mz4DHWy5bgKDLiBTQ7waxCi097gpcLth7qPUzlqCYWAJRyXGNtgM_KN5WXZEB0yZ7p9MYdwx7aE26mB3_pRNPF8qSGbTx13YKGyhDwPak6l3-BVyXgJvvI8YljoSUE/s1600/lioness2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg3xaYwDpRDPo1_Mz4DHWy5bgKDLiBTQ7waxCi097gpcLth7qPUzlqCYWAJRyXGNtgM_KN5WXZEB0yZ7p9MYdwx7aE26mB3_pRNPF8qSGbTx13YKGyhDwPak6l3-BVyXgJvvI8YljoSUE/s400/lioness2010.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lioness at the Oregon Zoo. We went on Halloween, and the predators I was afraid of were the parents of the tiny humans. We seriously almost got mauled! </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Nay to having our exploring cut short because of the rain and it getting dark right after lunchtime.<br />
<br />
Yay to cozy nights at home with Evan, a glass of wine, and the newest Josh Radin cd.<br />
<br />
Nay to spending my Saturdays on the couch doing homework.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgznfLlDUasDDkZNJi0mQB-uT1RnKEORrntrY6iiHHMhKxAG1IQuIuzcHb8JUXPp9FvHTVQqWu_OcDVl72CcHAWL_OwknJWblnQ-WyR2LOWYghuaACd-RZUgFls_GiG9k_P_6Ui8wOZUXA/s1600/images+%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="105" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgznfLlDUasDDkZNJi0mQB-uT1RnKEORrntrY6iiHHMhKxAG1IQuIuzcHb8JUXPp9FvHTVQqWu_OcDVl72CcHAWL_OwknJWblnQ-WyR2LOWYghuaACd-RZUgFls_GiG9k_P_6Ui8wOZUXA/s320/images+%25284%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where I can dance like a moron <i>and </i>get a great workout!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Yay yay yay for Zumba! I will always drag myself out of my graduate school stupor for Zumba!<br />
<br />
Yay for dropping close to 20 pounds!<br />
<br />
Seriously, YAY for dropping close to 20 pounds! (frankly, it deserves two yays)<br />
<br />
Nay for the silly holidays coming in at full force. I am such a weakling in front of mashed potatoes and stuffing!<br />
<br />
Yay for having a trip to Hawaii being more than enough motivation to turn away those mashed potatoes. At least the first time they're offered. I am, after all, only human.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyrURVeH7F_wOcFC_ngJ5I1w70NBWMq2tDAmK_dFXqDdyu-ElBBoIt9T044ll3qbvQX9zfSij5-9m0n56YvYsqTpWS2lp5Oo_9RTGRqLKMO45MR-Ivtz0ILMSRck594CiOiJH7wWlpTxk/s1600/images+%25286%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyrURVeH7F_wOcFC_ngJ5I1w70NBWMq2tDAmK_dFXqDdyu-ElBBoIt9T044ll3qbvQX9zfSij5-9m0n56YvYsqTpWS2lp5Oo_9RTGRqLKMO45MR-Ivtz0ILMSRck594CiOiJH7wWlpTxk/s1600/images+%25286%2529.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I plan on sunbathing right here. No mashed potatoes for me! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgMFapYqbmHhTshne8jwEGBIWjH1znIZpXxDJW95PEHjdes37g-gihfgsyK11WVBcgLFI3jtJ8LbuIh5B1uvD1RtbhJJBm4EK7UPbeX0tPcwAZp5V6tiHy59mdm6CWaoEzNU0yYBh8F2o/s1600/images+%25285%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgMFapYqbmHhTshne8jwEGBIWjH1znIZpXxDJW95PEHjdes37g-gihfgsyK11WVBcgLFI3jtJ8LbuIh5B1uvD1RtbhJJBm4EK7UPbeX0tPcwAZp5V6tiHy59mdm6CWaoEzNU0yYBh8F2o/s1600/images+%25285%2529.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In love with this! </td></tr>
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Yay for buying the <i>perfect </i>swimsuit that actually makes me want to get out on the beach.<br />
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Yay for finding shorts, capris, skirts, and my whole Hawaii wardrobe for under $50 bucks. I may just become a flip season shopper!<br />
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Yay for Black Friday! Ladies, watch out. I've been working on my elbow throwing skills.<br />
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Yay to not having very many Nays in my life.<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-large;">Yay</span></b> for having everything to look forward to and nothing holding me back. What an amazing feeling!Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-23685921473136537762010-11-11T09:48:00.000-08:002010-11-11T09:48:09.952-08:00Okay, seriouslyThe award for Worst Blogger of the Year can now be handed to me. Luckily, for all three of you who read this, I have a four-day weekend and my plan is to definitely update this thing.<br />
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Seriously. I will. Pinky swear.<br />
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-Mariela-Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-30711522142865068212010-09-09T21:46:00.000-07:002010-09-09T21:46:48.056-07:00An Amazing Summer<iframe frameborder="0" height="500" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/14847951" width="667"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/14847951">Summer 2010</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user4647372">Mariela Marquez</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
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I know I've been a total slacker as far as blogging goes, but I was really busy having an extraordinary summer. I went on some great trips, saw amazing things, and made some fantastic memories. Now that school/work has started back up again, as well as that dreaded rain, I was feeling nostalgic and decided to make this video of all my great times. There are a lot of pictures, and I realized a little too late that the duration of each picture was about two seconds too long. At least the songs are good. The songs in the video were definitely prominent members of my summer soundtrack, and I will always tie them into the amazing moments I had this summer, especially on those chilly, back-to-school mornings.<br />
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Anyway, I hope the video makes up for my slacking. Enjoy!Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-25098141059223967522010-07-04T17:21:00.000-07:002010-07-04T18:25:57.522-07:00Here's to 24!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiPU2XmheIyIDqlSCvFQLWABQ8TfH7tMVFqijaQSdnlsLdNoTXmcbmI5CwDEsad-E2q50rwPewQtuvq-JgJPK_Cmzr_xe_Zg7XJiGln3SAsn-Eo9bkjtFtQizr4BAoC0EcwvMJhxC_yyQ/s1600/lion+king.jpg"><br /></a>I was really stoked for my birthday this year, for a variety of reasons.<br /><br />1. I wasn't in Corvallis<br />2. ...<br /><br />Well, okay, one reason. I have been in Corvallis for my last two birthdays, and while they were wonderful, there was always this rushed feeling about it all, because either my family had to drive back to Portland, or we had to head back to Corvallis.<br /><br />And while I don't really have anything against Corvallis, celebrating just about anything is tough to do there, especially after 6 pm. I mean, there are a handful of restaurants, and the bowling alley or movie theater, as far as options go.<br /><br />So, being in Portland to ring in 24 was pretty exciting. The day started off awesomely, with Evan bringing me flowers in bed, and then making me a full, cholesterol-ridden breakfast of eggs, hash browns, and pancakes. After devouring them, he gave me my presents, which were awesome. I got the new Jason Mraz album, as well as Carey Brothers, a new musical obsession of mine. I also got a stack of Bill Bryson's books, which was sweet because he is my favorite author and I had just run out of things to read.<br /><br />After digesting, we got all cleaned up and headed to Portland for dinner at Pastini with my parents. Let me tell you, it was amazing. I had this chicken with spinach in a red pepper sauce, and even though Evan said that it was "an unnatural color," I totally hoovered it.<br /><br />I had an obscene amount of food that day, seriously. It just gets worse.<br /><br />We then drove a couple blocks, (walking was out of the question because a) it was raining and b) I was too full) found a miraculously close parking spot, and heading into the Keller Auditorium to see The Lion King, which was absolutely <span style="font-weight: bold;">phenomenal. </span>I was seriously transformed into a six year-old as soon as the music started. I couldn't stop gaping at all the amazing sets, the music, the costumes; it was all so incredible.<br /><br />After the play, we headed back to our place for Funfetti cake, coffee and some gifts from my parents. I have always been a true only child when it comes to my gifts, and I have always liked to shake, poke, and prod them. In a defense strategy, my mom hid my present inside a bigger box, then wrapped it in a sweatshirt, so I had absolutely no idea what I was opening. Imagine the scream I let out when I realized it was Photoshop Elements 8! I have played with it a bit, and while it is overwhelming, I'm really excited to see what it can do.<br /><br />It was really an awesome birthday. But, the fun, and the food, don't stop there.<br /><br />I spent July 2nd just trying to let my body filter out all the sugar and excitement from the day before, not knowing that my mom and Evan were secretly planning a surprise party for me on the 3rd. My mom had mentioned having a barbecue, and I had agreed, even though I was kinda surprised she was so insistent about it. When I asked about whether we should have it on the 4th, she very quickly answered, "no, the third would be better. Yep, the third works best for me, right Evan?"<br /><br />Evan: "Yeah, I like the third more than the fourth, definitely."<br /><br />Me: *lifts eyebrow skeptically*<br /><br />Honestly, I had reason to suspect, because my mom's done this to me before. For my 21st, she threw a big surprise party for me, and I had no idea until I was in front of 40 people with nothing to say and just the tiniest bit drunk from a Sand in Your Shorts I had had at Red Robin earlier. The same thing happened on my 16th birthday, sans the Sand in Your Shorts, but just as much dumbfoundedness.<br /><br />But, seeing as how the other two had been on "big" birthdays, and this was just my 24th, I pretty much just chalked it up to my mom <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> liking our deck in the backyard, and my paranoia.<br /><br />My mom and Evan's plan worked out pretty well, because it turns out I had to leave the house at just the right time to attend a birthday party at Out of This World Pizza and Play. My goodness, that was insane. I was hungry though, so I inhaled two pieces of pizza and slurped down some soda before coming home.<br /><br />See, what I said? About the food? Also, I wish that I had some pictures to chronicle all of this, but in all the excitement, we all forgot to take pictures.<br /><br />As I came down our street, I recognized my friend Magalyn's ancient Thunderbird, and then, Devan's Jeep, and then Karla's VW Golf, and I realized, I had been duped.<br /><br />I walked into a full-on luau-themed party with a lot of my great friends in attendance. My dad, a grilling master, made some awesome chicken kebabs, which we had with salad and some ice cold beers. It was great to see so many of my friends and catch up. It was a perfect afternoon, and of course, it was topped off with cake.<br /><br />It was, all in all, the best birthday I've had in a very long time. It has been such a crazy year, what with moving twice, quitting and finding jobs, and growing up in so many ways, that this sort of celebration was just what I needed to wrap up such a fantastic year, and starting this new one in my life with warmth in my heart, a smile on my face, and a whole lot of food in my tummy.Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-28360903661540978212010-05-17T11:18:00.000-07:002010-05-17T11:47:01.286-07:00Time for a New Backpack!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_TNfNDhAdBkTkvaHe5PM2qKFgWJfAy3JzXsS-T8SiAzKK3dD5ZwFjQ-zueaPyrnuD9jvT-uqwbczovXQujydyHRREH4bvAes-A6Qug4tfdwpAWI6ivNY-420u-HutH8CFSfVrmDrv-MQ/s1600/pdx_logo.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 376px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_TNfNDhAdBkTkvaHe5PM2qKFgWJfAy3JzXsS-T8SiAzKK3dD5ZwFjQ-zueaPyrnuD9jvT-uqwbczovXQujydyHRREH4bvAes-A6Qug4tfdwpAWI6ivNY-420u-HutH8CFSfVrmDrv-MQ/s400/pdx_logo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472311698692410690" border="0" /></a><br />So, I am headed to Graduate School! I was accepted about two weeks ago to the Portland State Graduate School of Education, where I'll be part of a program called the Bilingual Teacher Pathway, and (hopefully) in two years, I'll graduate with a Master's in Education, and an initial teaching license with endorsements in Language Arts and ESL/Bilingual Education.<br /><br />Man, I hope all that fits on the diploma.<br /><br />What's cool about this program is that it's meant for people who work full-time, so classes are during the evenings and weekends. So, it's a huge relief for me, because I really didn't want to leave my job for two years for school, and then somehow come up with close to $20,000 dollars to pay for it.<br /><br />Oh, another nifty thing: I can defer my student loans from my undergrad until I graduate from PSU. Seriously, I am so excited about this. I make about $1,200 a month, and a good third of that (if not more) went to those greedy old guys at the Department of Education. So, if $400 goes to student loans, and $320 to rent, I am left with $480 to last me a month. And while it'd be great to spend all of that on myself, there's usually something that comes up during the month that results in my paying a greasy mechanic or a veterinarian some exorbitant amount.<br /><br />So, yeah. I am super excited to start the program in September, learn all sorts of cool things, and then start teaching! Oh, and of course, I am totally stoked to get a really cool backpack with the money I WON'T be paying to old greedy dudes!Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-49083859686465256702010-04-30T21:19:00.000-07:002010-04-30T22:19:13.419-07:00Why I'm Marching TomorrowI'm marching tomorrow in Portland. There will be marches just like it all over the United States.<br /><br />I can't wait to be a part of it. I can't wait to help people realize that this country has gone from being the land of opportunity to being the land where you can be split from your family for trying to give them opportunities.<br /><br />It's not fair that we get yelled at and insulted by people whose ancestors did the <span style="font-style: italic;">exact same thing</span> as the Hispanic and Latino people are doing now. They are coming here with their families, because they want the freedom and the chance to make life better for themselves.<br /><br />Why is that so hard to see? Why does that merit hateful comments and rudeness from others? Why are some people afraid to see other people try to succeed here?<br /><br />I am an American citizen, and I'm proud to be one. But, I am also an immigrant. I came here with my parents when I was three. We had very little, but my parents worked unbelievably hard, always, everyday. Not only did they put me through college, they went back and got their second Master's degrees. They are a success story, through and through.<br /><br />I am so proud of them, of what they've accomplished. And I'm realizing the strength it must have taken for them to get to where they are. My goodness, just think about it. They left everything and everyone they held dear just for the <span style="font-weight: bold;">chance</span>, just the chance that they could offer me a better life. They've endured so much in hopes that I would succeed and get ahead in life. My goal, every day, is to prove to them that they did not sacrifice so very much in vain.<br /><br />My parents did not come here to steal jobs, or become criminals, or take advantage of social security. They came with<span style="font-weight: bold;"> hope</span> for a better future. And, I can assure you that every family you encounter that has immigrated here, Hispanic or not, has come for the same reason.<br /><br />When did that become a bad thing? When did hopes and expectations for a better future require a piece of paper for the chance to flourish?<br /><br />I see how wonderful my life is here, and I feel so incredibly lucky to have been a part of so many wonderful experiences and opportunities, despite the obstacles.<br /><br />I truly believe that every person who makes that incredibly scary leap into a new, unknown future deserves the kind of life I've been blessed with.<br /><br />And that is why I'm marching tomorrow.Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-65661352006283476652010-03-24T21:14:00.000-07:002010-03-24T21:54:44.825-07:00My Newest RelationshipI have a lot of great relationships in my life. I have an incredible one with my parents (finally, now that I'm not a totally self-absorbed teenager), an super awesome one with Evan and his family, and I adore my friends. Honestly, I am very lucky.<br /><br />There was, however, one relationship that I was hesitant to begin. I have been telling myself I need to start this relationship, and I always found excuses. Money, time, and downright denial were my main ones.<br /><br />But, I've finally bitten the bullet and jumped into this relationship with everything I have. Excuses be damned.<br /><br />I'm talking about the gym here. I joined a Bally's Total Fitness that is on my way home from work. That way, I figured, I would feel guilty driving by it if I didn't go. I don't do well with guilt, so this was a good strategy.<br /><br />In college, I went to the gym pretty regularly. Especially freshman year, when I was dating a guy who was on the crew team who was in spectacular shape. I felt like I needed to keep up and so I spent literally 10+ hours at the gym a week, and I hardly ate anything. I dropped to about 112 pounds that year, and while I looked "great," I felt awful. If I wasn't working out, I was sleeping, because I didn't have any energy to do anything else. At one point, I was eating 600 calories a day and running 6 or so miles a day, plus weights.<br /><br />Dumb, I know, but at that point in my life, I was so insecure about myself, that I figured that if I looked the best I could, I could at least feign confidence.<br /><br />The funny thing, though, is that I never thought I looked good enough. I didn't realize at the time that confidence (cliche warning) comes from within, and isn't something you can chase after on the track. Even at my thinnest and most fit, I didn't like myself.<br /><br />And then I met Evan. Evan, who loves me for <span style="font-style: italic;">me. </span>Who loves me when I am happy, grumpy, and being a dork. Who loves me for loving elephants, being uber picky about socks, singing loudly in the shower, and best of all, supports me in absolutely everything I do. He didn't care if I missed a day at the gym, either, but those days turned into weeks, and while my self-confidence grew, so did my waistline.<br /><br />So now, I want to feel as good about myself on the outside as I do on the inside. And this time, I'm doing it safely. I'm going three times a week to the gym, and planning to take a lot of walks besides. I've started cutting back on my portions and made better choices, and I've told myself that if I slip, that I won't get down on myself and drown myself in self-pity and ice cream. Instead, I'll start again the next day.<br /><br />So wish me luck, guys. As that one guy in the movie <span style="font-style: italic;">Ca</span><span style="font-style: italic;">sablanca </span>said, "I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDH5x62cN0iv-XGJ2er9o1nW-jl0wTzm5-pNpnV7rZcFpircM9Qi7fn9c0KgLIx1ytb-8GL447t2lFunaUvI0yqzPSw4ZN7i4SZF2U1it_UXVXar0-zIXHzeDRvlC679IDrnn0OAie15A/s1600/1683172155_58bf9f3354.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 307px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDH5x62cN0iv-XGJ2er9o1nW-jl0wTzm5-pNpnV7rZcFpircM9Qi7fn9c0KgLIx1ytb-8GL447t2lFunaUvI0yqzPSw4ZN7i4SZF2U1it_UXVXar0-zIXHzeDRvlC679IDrnn0OAie15A/s400/1683172155_58bf9f3354.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452430245895871682" border="0" /></a>Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-23382721708381395342010-03-14T13:57:00.001-07:002010-03-14T14:12:10.539-07:00We have the coolest cat ever!Here is our cat, Newton, playing fetch. You just have to love lazy Sunday mornings!<br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzg-hnMYAYzvfugSs11ZbDpdzc8evpFtkHuIDTq1Cu90omGSkI2NdwtH2mgfT7UZV1TzL2hDePnZMlHbzf8Ew' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-84802629830141740722010-03-08T15:03:00.000-08:002010-03-08T15:30:49.061-08:00"Hey, I put some new shoes on..."Usually, for Valentine's Day, I receive some flowers, or candy, and a card. There's nothing wrong with that, of course, but this year, Evan out did himself.<br /><br />He got me a pair of Vibram Five Fingers!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVlG9TmWOjm9CKeykYFM6e7VChPkUbwmmFXxIIRBBQaZp1aGodDNYHKD4f-LAXDJ6eHwPdroj8D6wVvpYTqPaZZb1m6TCvxLmyNn_kGnMoGNRfBn04M8xQO4xrfcrEardOjTMZfOIv0Gc/s1600-h/spring+2010+098.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVlG9TmWOjm9CKeykYFM6e7VChPkUbwmmFXxIIRBBQaZp1aGodDNYHKD4f-LAXDJ6eHwPdroj8D6wVvpYTqPaZZb1m6TCvxLmyNn_kGnMoGNRfBn04M8xQO4xrfcrEardOjTMZfOIv0Gc/s400/spring+2010+098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446409033444505090" border="0" /></a><br />You see, we read this book <span style="font-weight: bold;">Born to Run</span>, a few months ago, and the shoes were mentioned as part of a new, barefoot running movement. They originally started as yacht shoes, but runners started using them once they realized that they didn't need the arch support or super cushy heels. Also, they've been reported to lessen arch, heel, and Achilles pain, which I've had problems with for years.<br /><br />I know, I know. Looking at me now, you'd never guess I used to run. A lot. I ran every day, five to eight miles a day, and I totally bought into the hype of having to have all sorts of cushioning and support. I even went out and bought a pair of Nike running shoes that were made to help with my over-pronation. After reading the book, it's not a big surprise that three weeks into running with the super-shoes, I developed a severe case of plantar fasciitis, and had trouble with heel pain. I was icing my arches every day, and popping tons of Advil, just to run a few miles. I couldn't go more than two miles without wincing and having to stop to stretch out my arches. Eventually I stopped running altogether, even though I kept eating like I ran eight miles a day and boom, you get the present me.<br /><br />And, yeah, maybe my form was terrible, or it was the asphalt I was running on, but there's a part of me that believes it was the shoes. Especially because ever since I've started wearing my Vibrams, I haven't had ANY arch pain, heel pain, or pain in my knees. It's a big deal. I wear them everywhere. I've even worn them on short runs around our neighborhood, and there wasn't any pain. There was just that feeling of freedom you get when everything clicks into place as you run.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgilTo4GN6SKuAWThoyMUBOh0Cf5QdBBfWEB1OkR9Fp9blXRxkAuLewdVliuzJSmgQz-iSie2GiaPIrKUOgMRVZEN-KUk8F11UUJWaAKF3T_TLBm_0Ud-xdD-KnfSxgWLazpacUdIr8tR0/s1600-h/spring+2010+104.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgilTo4GN6SKuAWThoyMUBOh0Cf5QdBBfWEB1OkR9Fp9blXRxkAuLewdVliuzJSmgQz-iSie2GiaPIrKUOgMRVZEN-KUk8F11UUJWaAKF3T_TLBm_0Ud-xdD-KnfSxgWLazpacUdIr8tR0/s400/spring+2010+104.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446409038634351282" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I know they look weird. I get funny looks and questions all the time, especially from my students, but I just adore these shoes! Forget flowers and candy, I am going to ask for a pair of Vibrams every Valentine's Day!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6VA8VdjkpN9sLRUVFApkg1LfRv6AMvHOICMwnp4unQUG2FiaSkR527LNErBFerfTbbj8X4Ls1gfPbalV5WEsPsDPaN43gpXp1PYtNFU4QG7wXZUHRl8ynAxH86-pijSBxY5RqSg0Sxug/s1600-h/spring+2010+068.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6VA8VdjkpN9sLRUVFApkg1LfRv6AMvHOICMwnp4unQUG2FiaSkR527LNErBFerfTbbj8X4Ls1gfPbalV5WEsPsDPaN43gpXp1PYtNFU4QG7wXZUHRl8ynAxH86-pijSBxY5RqSg0Sxug/s400/spring+2010+068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446409015769848034" border="0" /></a>Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-75674635765706944562010-01-24T21:41:00.000-08:002010-02-01T15:25:22.155-08:00New ThingsBeware: long, long post ahead!<br /><br /><br />I can't believe that two months ago I was basically living another life. I was in Corvallis, by myself, with a crazy cat and about a million unknowns hanging onto my shoulders. It was a really hectic period, but now, two months later (I last blogged in <span style="font-style: italic;">October? </span>Eeek.) I really can't believe how amazing it all turned out. Honestly, the move and adjustment to life here in Beaverton could not have been smoother, and for that, I feel incredibly lucky.<br /><br />So, new things in my life:<br /><br /><ul><li>Moved into a wonderful little house in Beaverton, for which we don't have enough furniture, but that's okay because it gives the kitties more room to run.<br /></li><li>We decided to adopt another kitten. Her name is Ampersand (it's the name for the "&" symbol) and it's a good thing she's so darn cute because she is a handful.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-UNtFNZdA8aK_9XJRZFecjchaDcgKs-h16F6Bn8Jtm1IRkt7QxR_VJBB4yX-pSxow6VR1XUlpYaFVLUqR2cQheR_bAwfMoGHnbfVVpzcoSCO4pjq-R9mdLjOGzckhXnmOkkl-bXYqjA/s1600-h/Fall+2009+155.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-UNtFNZdA8aK_9XJRZFecjchaDcgKs-h16F6Bn8Jtm1IRkt7QxR_VJBB4yX-pSxow6VR1XUlpYaFVLUqR2cQheR_bAwfMoGHnbfVVpzcoSCO4pjq-R9mdLjOGzckhXnmOkkl-bXYqjA/s400/Fall+2009+155.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433419687026779250" border="0" /></a></li><li>I was fortunate enough to get a job! I am now working as an ESL assistant at Liberty High School in Hillsboro. It has been a big adjustment going from middle to high schoolers, and one that I'm still trying to make. But, the people are great, and I get to hone my Algebra 2 skills, as well as read really cool novels again, like <span style="font-weight: bold;">One Fl</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">ew Over the Cuckoo's Nest </span>and <span style="font-weight: bold;">Animal Farm</span>. Oh, and I get to actually work with old teachers I had back at Glencoe! It is totally surreal to refer to them as my colleagues, and I'm sure they're kind of weirded out as well.<br /></li><li>My boyfriend, his family, and mi familia all pitched in over Christmas to surprise me with a Canon Rebel XSi! It is an amazing camera, and I love learning to play with it. I have vowed to not use Photoshop for at least the first six months I have it, which I hope will force me to really get to know all it's fantastic features.<br /></li><li>After that amazing Christmas present, we went down to California to visit family, and it was Evan's first experience with my extended family. We are a, uh, flavorful family, and it was great to see Evan fitting right in with our <span style="font-style: italic;">locura </span>(or craziness, for you non-spanish endowed people).<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8EzBvku86bFa8mqZhBe4xSyG-Ju1Ia_Ou9YwX8cO2gy2_zPkig2aui8di0ywcoPzQUWYKAvGqKyLj-0eUTHI6GkdBqYYSbvG22LNB2SS4H5OrT7JC4MZOALS7Td-AY3Js-aYZhOSrcm8/s1600-h/Christmas+Break+09+013.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8EzBvku86bFa8mqZhBe4xSyG-Ju1Ia_Ou9YwX8cO2gy2_zPkig2aui8di0ywcoPzQUWYKAvGqKyLj-0eUTHI6GkdBqYYSbvG22LNB2SS4H5OrT7JC4MZOALS7Td-AY3Js-aYZhOSrcm8/s400/Christmas+Break+09+013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433414653567255602" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO8b6Hei-kc-VThReOZxg74EeIxaQYKS2Uv-orbAvADESihJrYQ0WCf3IM2oCnGr_duzerexFQyUqT5g5LDTO_kSQXcRIjUmMd0PH01QzWX-hMmPq7n24Oab9bbl742tcXaHegJC4df5Q/s1600-h/Christmas+Break+09+030.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO8b6Hei-kc-VThReOZxg74EeIxaQYKS2Uv-orbAvADESihJrYQ0WCf3IM2oCnGr_duzerexFQyUqT5g5LDTO_kSQXcRIjUmMd0PH01QzWX-hMmPq7n24Oab9bbl742tcXaHegJC4df5Q/s400/Christmas+Break+09+030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433414666546280562" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2rUieS3jB2lSk3PJszcjoBC0s7HGiW7JhClrxDmlwuUCNbQhXn3Bc_akSCvLqSkWUvZA00x86lvx9LvtWsHbuq6Xfwm8iPjdJ6NlkoXdoEytbeVGrKsD0U_U9lAUFoUyHfT8TUlzZEUk/s1600-h/Christmas+Break+09+150.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2rUieS3jB2lSk3PJszcjoBC0s7HGiW7JhClrxDmlwuUCNbQhXn3Bc_akSCvLqSkWUvZA00x86lvx9LvtWsHbuq6Xfwm8iPjdJ6NlkoXdoEytbeVGrKsD0U_U9lAUFoUyHfT8TUlzZEUk/s400/Christmas+Break+09+150.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433414677345923282" border="0" /></a></li><li>Evan and I took our first long adventure in California. We drove from Santa Ana to San Diego, and it was an absolute blast exploring the San Diego Zoo, Wild Animal Park, Old Town San Diego, and Balboa Park (my absolute favorite place). It was, of course, made more fun by the fact that I had my awesome new toy slung over my shoulder to chronicle the whole thing. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS9fgWKd5y3y0jkYeZiw7dnwAS-wwFVVS_JBLvdUxwkx2bdHw6Oq1hGTP4ljDubv__VTTo63A-WaHUh-ayaagsmGv02aHMYTxm70tJ4z8vA9tKdjTtB7gD9MH0n2Zs8z-tbafBn0ox0LI/s1600-h/Christmas+Break+09+870.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS9fgWKd5y3y0jkYeZiw7dnwAS-wwFVVS_JBLvdUxwkx2bdHw6Oq1hGTP4ljDubv__VTTo63A-WaHUh-ayaagsmGv02aHMYTxm70tJ4z8vA9tKdjTtB7gD9MH0n2Zs8z-tbafBn0ox0LI/s400/Christmas+Break+09+870.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433416586558661314" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh22On4bCgUGt0voNgp9e7knt0YwdHaX4RlNXVPh3ltjB-S0Cuye8Nnk1SyC8vm3FaCrfeibUwkGbCtfM484CEShNGqMV0-rf6iOBP3v7u8awNdIjOzoHaBzEUOHRT4kAz_owO5DEWAAxs/s1600-h/Christmas+Break+09+830.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh22On4bCgUGt0voNgp9e7knt0YwdHaX4RlNXVPh3ltjB-S0Cuye8Nnk1SyC8vm3FaCrfeibUwkGbCtfM484CEShNGqMV0-rf6iOBP3v7u8awNdIjOzoHaBzEUOHRT4kAz_owO5DEWAAxs/s400/Christmas+Break+09+830.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433416575545878706" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibD-Nov8ZOdcYbelbfY9DSd-yV1bvub2o-QnRe4Qmg6leaAzLmakwz-GIywrA_Ff_x6B_bukhyozsEsUsIpCo2AOhwSHK0ObZMsDt_8qg7XF-NyoGq3WMDSNZ0NSr-j-Ymf2QOUFGrsuI/s1600-h/Christmas+Break+09+396.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibD-Nov8ZOdcYbelbfY9DSd-yV1bvub2o-QnRe4Qmg6leaAzLmakwz-GIywrA_Ff_x6B_bukhyozsEsUsIpCo2AOhwSHK0ObZMsDt_8qg7XF-NyoGq3WMDSNZ0NSr-j-Ymf2QOUFGrsuI/s400/Christmas+Break+09+396.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433414692766762482" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicoR7cvDUu7xB9nvKjyhS_RP2yNkAXxX73clX2w4K0rfzh54Yr5ehsohiqyT4PsHVTSNg1jKJAoRKmiGdjMaSLQxVLUs__zgjCCgY6CJoXf0YUfvOXFBFdzw5Q4vttYtHmCxFbdlZgT98/s1600-h/Christmas+Break+09+367.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicoR7cvDUu7xB9nvKjyhS_RP2yNkAXxX73clX2w4K0rfzh54Yr5ehsohiqyT4PsHVTSNg1jKJAoRKmiGdjMaSLQxVLUs__zgjCCgY6CJoXf0YUfvOXFBFdzw5Q4vttYtHmCxFbdlZgT98/s400/Christmas+Break+09+367.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433414687054150290" border="0" /></a></li><li>Evan and I have decided to start living in a more healthy way. We both read <span style="font-weight: bold;">Born to Run </span>(an incredible book that everyone should pick up, and that I will blog about later) and kind of mutually decided to start living better, not to slip into our high school jeans again or wow everybody this summer with our super slim and sculpted selves, but because we just want to <span style="font-style: italic;">feel</span> better. This is my second week, and already, I can detect small, but significant changes in how I feel. Oh, and remind me to tell you guys about Chia seeds in an upcoming blog post. They are amazing, and have been key in this whole revamping of our lifestyle. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieyuUQxDv8iBX40FdRudVtRLHdRtSDv6pN5Oi1sZYwN1iKi7r9mhg4xFEuT-xJMBo3JKhVRedf4jNfmjQOPihONfl8ijb8PWP8ARGsLqqYt7xpZQKag3dyh2GoDlKgq3WSXa6iFmu1ToM/s1600-h/born2run.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 271px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieyuUQxDv8iBX40FdRudVtRLHdRtSDv6pN5Oi1sZYwN1iKi7r9mhg4xFEuT-xJMBo3JKhVRedf4jNfmjQOPihONfl8ijb8PWP8ARGsLqqYt7xpZQKag3dyh2GoDlKgq3WSXa6iFmu1ToM/s400/born2run.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433418058784566098" border="0" /></a></li><li>I don't know if you remember, but I mentioned before that I was having some pretty hardcore issues with anxiety before the move, and as anxious people go, we don't like changes, especially big ones. As I wrote my last post, I was dreading all the anxiety I was sure to feel while adjusting to this new stage in my life. A new city, a new house, a new job, etc., and I just wasn't sure if I could cope with it. So, imagine my surprise when I don't feel anything but an immense wave of calm wash over me almost as soon as we move in. I haven't had a panic attack since our move, our felt that edgy sensastion gnawing away at me for a long time. It's been amazing to be <span style="font-style: italic;">home. </span>Every time I drive around my hometown, I am surrounded by old, happy, memories, and it excites me to think about all the new ones I will be able to layer over them. So far, 2010 is looking pretty promising.</li><li>I have decided to end this post with my favorite picture of our trip. I feel like he represents my goals for this year: stay strong and confident no matter what happens. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm4QFOd31D7mT3DorWyUhRsxDrDhI90qP3fLz1h_iIZdVlOu2w8ensPm-1djXS64vdOxjg-LjWwSdLNkdXXYlAAOQHD208jfhWpcREikqn6anCveoSOGc3yMFHvoh0au78oiC30cMK7Ac/s1600-h/Christmas+Break+09+648.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm4QFOd31D7mT3DorWyUhRsxDrDhI90qP3fLz1h_iIZdVlOu2w8ensPm-1djXS64vdOxjg-LjWwSdLNkdXXYlAAOQHD208jfhWpcREikqn6anCveoSOGc3yMFHvoh0au78oiC30cMK7Ac/s400/Christmas+Break+09+648.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433416568648856354" border="0" /></a></li></ul>Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-26340219286571513302009-10-25T18:47:00.001-07:002009-10-25T19:36:34.704-07:00Three pieces of furniture and a cat.That's all I have at the moment. Well, and some food in the fridge.<br /><br />No, no one broke in. I am almost totally moved out of Corvallis!<br /><br />When I first realized that I would have to spend a month here, it seemed like an eternity away, but now that I seriously only have 4 days left, I've realized that the hardest part of leaving Corvallis is Corvallis itself, if that makes sense.<br /><br />When you want to leave a place but can't, you only see the negatives about it. But, when you want to leave a place and then you're leaving before you thought you would be, all you see are the things you'll miss.<br /><br />And there's a lot I'll miss. Everywhere I go in Corvallis holds some sort of special moment. I guess it's not hard to fill a town with memories when said town is so tiny it only takes 15 minutes to cross it. I suppose if I'm ever feeling super nostalgic, I can come back and get my fill of memories in less than half an hour. Efficient Nostalgia.<br /><br />Plus, I'll be back every couple of weeks to get my hair cut. This may seem ridiculous to just about everyone, but my hairdresser really understands my hair and I would seriously follow her to Timbuktu, if I had to. If I didn't have my hairdresser, my tresses would look something like this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMmusfnWGCi5sudIncxgsAePHgiZCoZioJMyD0S4Jo07YYmwmxlx9BhhLWCTRn8ocOeXR08jpnjrn4eYRV582FGzAemm7zNNfeH3FE9U8wV6yvjXfUsXyjTkHAg7Qydw_AJtTJH0UB_Js/s1600-h/2466674018_0327becdea.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMmusfnWGCi5sudIncxgsAePHgiZCoZioJMyD0S4Jo07YYmwmxlx9BhhLWCTRn8ocOeXR08jpnjrn4eYRV582FGzAemm7zNNfeH3FE9U8wV6yvjXfUsXyjTkHAg7Qydw_AJtTJH0UB_Js/s400/2466674018_0327becdea.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396725835743948770" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I am super excited to move though, and start our life in Beaverton. We are actually living in a house, which will be a welcome change from our years of living in apartments. The littlest things about having a house are just so exciting to me. Like, I can't believe we'll have a <span style="font-style: italic;">driveway</span>, instead of parking for a spot and worrying about some guy denting your door. Or, the idea of having a <span style="font-style: italic;">solid</span> foundation under our feet, so I can do my Wii to my little heart's content, and Newton can tear around the place without our downstairs neighbor pounding on our floor with the end of a broom. Simple comforts.<br /><br />So yeah. One more week in cozy Corvallis and then, new adventures!Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-18657551318918725332009-10-05T21:19:00.001-07:002009-10-05T22:41:33.430-07:00Alone TimeSometimes I am so worried about a situation that I fail to see the silver lining until it basically hits me in the head.<br /><br />The situation at hand is that I am currently spending a month alone here in Corvallis. Evan got a teaching job at Beaverton High School and of course, had to move up to that area to start teaching the savages aka high school freshmen.<br /><br />As much as I wanted to go with him, I had to realize that I have a full-time job here with my own breed of savages, also known as middle schoolers. The way the economy is now, I would be a tad more than moronic to leave a decently paying job and a place that I worked so hard to have a voice in because I am a little nervous about being left all by my lonesome.<br /><br />Of course, on paper it seems really simple: He goes and makes moolah, and I stay here and make moolah, and at some point, we come back together and share said moolah.<br /><br />But, if you will, picture our plan as a cross-country runner. This guy is running smoothly, nothing in his path, and the sun is shining.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkEAILnJIS_iMjh2aIa_8IAymeeTveH33sGv1m-QkzpsVa3dJ04YpazUSTN5jHRV2lYk0igxMAsEzRBS3Ta1TpLyQYzxCb9VMOr2URbTNnWDXPJCVubv4tx5WBPK6HSH05Wdia-g1XpfQ/s1600-h/trail-runner.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 373px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkEAILnJIS_iMjh2aIa_8IAymeeTveH33sGv1m-QkzpsVa3dJ04YpazUSTN5jHRV2lYk0igxMAsEzRBS3Ta1TpLyQYzxCb9VMOr2URbTNnWDXPJCVubv4tx5WBPK6HSH05Wdia-g1XpfQ/s400/trail-runner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389355544854450802" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Images courtesy of Google</span></span><br /><br /></div>Now. Picture a mean guy in a trenchcoat walking up to our runner and throwing a gigantic wrench in his path. making the runner run straight into a very well-grown patch of poison oak. We'll call this wrench Anxiety.<br /><br />The truth of the matter is, I have anxiety. Pretty badly, actually, and the idea of being left alone every evening was terrifying. Not to mention just about doing everything alone. I couldn't fathom grocery shopping alone, or running errands all by myself. It was too daunting.<br /><br />So, back to our runner. He's picked himself out of the poison oak, and albeit itchy, he keeps going.<br /><br />And, out of the bushes springs a crazy, rabid animal with a penchant for aluminum foil and all plants and he sinks his teeth into the runner's leg.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP58sbbYhVfxHIb3d8NO7LxI4byCnwRvnZc4QsUCeA6y0isFL2LjpD0DEMbaIXAakeaUIkN2ja8gEP7rD49RGCIrVjZPfEKtAyQgLCIZ5o05PMD-QQ-vC0ebgsu2Q9xO0vR8Sh-C0HDpY/s1600-h/009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP58sbbYhVfxHIb3d8NO7LxI4byCnwRvnZc4QsUCeA6y0isFL2LjpD0DEMbaIXAakeaUIkN2ja8gEP7rD49RGCIrVjZPfEKtAyQgLCIZ5o05PMD-QQ-vC0ebgsu2Q9xO0vR8Sh-C0HDpY/s400/009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389357538930798594" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We'll call this crazy, rabid animal Newton. Frankly, this cat is really bizarre. I feel like a single parent (okay, maybe 1/100000th of what they feel) when I'm home alone with this feline. He gets into just about everything that isn't bolted down or welded shut, he eats everything (his latest meals: a magnet, bamboo leaves, gravel, and a large piece of aluminum foil), and then takes just about the smelliest poops I have ever experienced. And, trust me, I know animal poop.<br /><br />So now our runner is itchy, and bleeding. As he's limping along, let's say that a very angry looking raincloud bursts open right on top of this poor guy, and a torrential rainfall begins to fall on him. Since this guy is an Oregonian right down to the core, the rain itself doesn't bother him so much as the absolute swamp of mud this rain is creating for him, bogging down his every step forward.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhirYut_LBxOyuBCYksFMubMVCnx5he2qJvJY52j3zfik0OHDtUIQHx0eV5Kp0LbwH3BlJ5f1Cpi7GcB8I0HVdXIR-l1qPCXj6zlglJFgmK7S-jWFmxbLH1wbntSEt_TmwJyFWRYp5kZ6Y/s1600-h/3809+ric+steep+climb1.jpg.display.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhirYut_LBxOyuBCYksFMubMVCnx5he2qJvJY52j3zfik0OHDtUIQHx0eV5Kp0LbwH3BlJ5f1Cpi7GcB8I0HVdXIR-l1qPCXj6zlglJFgmK7S-jWFmxbLH1wbntSEt_TmwJyFWRYp5kZ6Y/s400/3809+ric+steep+climb1.jpg.display.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389355556952816018" border="0" /></a><br />We'll call this muddy slop Loose Ends That Need Tying Up. On one hand, a month seems like forever, and when I think of all the little things I have to do, I feel like I am already out of time. And money.<br /><br />What's crazy about this metaphor, is that our runner will eventually get to the finish line, and he'll be stronger after such a journey. And so will I.<br /><br />I will take this time to live for myself down here; to go shopping for shoes I don't need but desperately want without Ev behind me looking like I dragged him into the store. I can browse for makeup or books for hours and not have to worry about anything or anyone but myself. I can learn a lot about myself that maybe I missed out on by living with someone for the last 3 years. It's so easy to put someone else that you care so deeply about before you and even lose yourself in that devotion. This is my chance to find myself again a little bit. To take a slightly scary journey that I know will have its fair share of obstacles, but in the end I will make it to Beaverton, and I'll be stronger when I get there.<br /><br />And, at least, I don't <span style="font-style: italic;">actually</span> have Poison Oak.Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-29324714776062523592009-09-19T21:12:00.001-07:002009-09-19T21:41:37.680-07:00Oh bother...I've been lazy.<br /><br />Well, at least as far as blogging is concerned. I can honestly say I had a lazy-free summer. It went by entirely too quickly, in my opinion. Maybe I'm just used to college-level summers, where you are free as soon as you get out of your last final in the early days of June, and don't amble back into a classroom until the very end of September.<br /><br />Well, those days are long gone. I was definitely in a classroom on the second day of September, doing battle with a bulletin board (why are those things so darn <span style="font-style: italic;">difficult?!) </span>and cutting out little stars, hearts, sharks, and dinosaurs from card stock for nametags.<br /><br />To be honest, though, I don't know what I would even <span style="font-style: italic;">do</span> with an extra month of summer; we crammed so many things into the 2.5 months I did have. I suppose I would sleep a lot, chase after my energy-riddled kitten, and spend most evenings jamming to the awesome new Beatles game that I had to have (thank goodness for old, deaf neighbors).<br /><br />Oh, and Netflix. A lot of Netflix. Especially since we would go weeks without seeing some of the movies we got this summer because we weren't in the city at the time.<br /><br />Anyway, while a part of me is definitely bitter about waking up a little bit after the sun rises and dealing with hormonally charged teenagers soon thereafter, I also feel good about settling into this scary "adult" thing a little more easily than I did last year, and so far, this year is going well for me. I like the teachers I work with, and the best part is that I for half the day, I work almost entirely in Spanish. It's been great to dust off that part of me and get some much-needed practice in. There were a few years there in the middle to high-school age where I almost lost my ability to speak this gorgeous language. I feel like now, I am making up for lost time.<br /><br />Also in today's news, Google is telling me that this is my 50th blog post, which I think is pretty nifty. I started this as a way to just chronicle my thoughts and experiences as I left CollegeLand and headed into the "real world" whatever that means. It has been a lot of fun, but I think I will start talking about other, more serious issues soon. Before, something would get me either really amped, or really infuriated and I'd be afraid to talk about it because I was sure I'd get a comment saying, "you're the dumbest person ever; cancel your blog immediately before my eyes start bleeding from reading your ignorance."<br /><br />Frankly, now that I think about it, this is my blog, made just so I could say whatever I wanted, ignorant or otherwise. If you guys are ever at odds over something I say, please tell me; I love debating issues. If you guys are ever offended, by all means, click away from my blog.<br /><br />Don't worry; I'm not going to get super serious on all 4 of you. There will still be plenty of posts about my crazy life, tweenager wrangling days, and new to the blog, crazy stories about my seriously ADHD kitten, Newton.<br /><br />And of course, there will be pictures like this one to just make your day:<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYhovngqO6bl5YKLUbOGnAaY0uKM6qD3QTgr4b2fud1OoM6Zbkzv3cP_tYX5v4nFq4IegIZJg9xHmP_m8N6drwkKitMU97h3JXmmC2peRTpVwJLHMgmuHjAwaB4byO9E_2h2pCwCj0RUk/s1600-h/IMG_6946.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYhovngqO6bl5YKLUbOGnAaY0uKM6qD3QTgr4b2fud1OoM6Zbkzv3cP_tYX5v4nFq4IegIZJg9xHmP_m8N6drwkKitMU97h3JXmmC2peRTpVwJLHMgmuHjAwaB4byO9E_2h2pCwCj0RUk/s400/IMG_6946.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383404746549606354" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Sunburnt lips while camping, August. Angelina Jolie, eat your freakin' heart out.<br /></div>Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-35028580041139500392009-08-05T23:42:00.001-07:002009-08-05T23:47:58.903-07:00And they call them the "dog days of summer"...?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjujccyNLpQveAmdLd2WJFnH5TNrIH2jRdC1KzJfVchO_7I0XUx2zz75imPcyzLQUPMzwFv7ljPCmj-tngt0QqalXWFFo52AXer6nYv37OWoh5JSlzlmTIQFeWqBQI9r31IkRewn9Mvy0g/s1600-h/IMG_6706.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjujccyNLpQveAmdLd2WJFnH5TNrIH2jRdC1KzJfVchO_7I0XUx2zz75imPcyzLQUPMzwFv7ljPCmj-tngt0QqalXWFFo52AXer6nYv37OWoh5JSlzlmTIQFeWqBQI9r31IkRewn9Mvy0g/s400/IMG_6706.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366738809983088018" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFWYuhwHBA3gPzjNlp9qJguZjbYtPM-Md9fzMTtPmbcXRjMKBdzh1WNhmuXqeQ-on92Kz23OlYCZ5zjjzHf3eVo85Rz85grCrkzp2kge8NVWI1qv53C0YpqmbIu5DMYtNbeuHauhSSbxY/s1600-h/IMG_6701.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFWYuhwHBA3gPzjNlp9qJguZjbYtPM-Md9fzMTtPmbcXRjMKBdzh1WNhmuXqeQ-on92Kz23OlYCZ5zjjzHf3eVo85Rz85grCrkzp2kge8NVWI1qv53C0YpqmbIu5DMYtNbeuHauhSSbxY/s400/IMG_6701.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366738788625682466" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrh4t9KXFnVDRcVRZtFGsJRofjImuoTtFe-Zgn26R8qQHNPa_XhcSJamL0jeG8GsBPPraoAwgzlkyQW459PUJlOAQmkLOiSWguhN2hVQ-PaxTaryZr1iKwo9y42VGZ4NmnV6UefaAFrh0/s1600-h/IMG_6704.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrh4t9KXFnVDRcVRZtFGsJRofjImuoTtFe-Zgn26R8qQHNPa_XhcSJamL0jeG8GsBPPraoAwgzlkyQW459PUJlOAQmkLOiSWguhN2hVQ-PaxTaryZr1iKwo9y42VGZ4NmnV6UefaAFrh0/s400/IMG_6704.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366738159032499362" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpbA2G74Bu7yPsjw8RmPLkLIeacxrq13P0kRPRzorPMHnNZoydyeiRzFJWmP5OoP1Aq1fCILgZmg3RM9TmSJQY12ybCyXTY0D0hzIr-Shec8-3jyuDBKw-4av_l-WhEqjrYTeEwd2gajU/s1600-h/IMG_6700.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpbA2G74Bu7yPsjw8RmPLkLIeacxrq13P0kRPRzorPMHnNZoydyeiRzFJWmP5OoP1Aq1fCILgZmg3RM9TmSJQY12ybCyXTY0D0hzIr-Shec8-3jyuDBKw-4av_l-WhEqjrYTeEwd2gajU/s400/IMG_6700.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366738149782552866" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJxQqAEWKJ1u-9DW82yvxwri9MAT2RAZHN_iB9e4CtxEgJkg5p_W2FFrytO8-Q0hYDDfD3Xgtp2svpJ7OgHDKYNOpTcOP6vSC_fxuHs8ov9Jt_bKTtNWmzJfN2SSbQ_NumkFHMuQ8-N50/s1600-h/IMG_6690.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJxQqAEWKJ1u-9DW82yvxwri9MAT2RAZHN_iB9e4CtxEgJkg5p_W2FFrytO8-Q0hYDDfD3Xgtp2svpJ7OgHDKYNOpTcOP6vSC_fxuHs8ov9Jt_bKTtNWmzJfN2SSbQ_NumkFHMuQ8-N50/s400/IMG_6690.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366738138828347602" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSmptb4HJVxiL_II82-atesDA7SAlVBGxJCi111oIhpOurAQh9o75R4OzKqtASjLCWZTycvmz9EjHK07YcYZVWLDe0_JMrdB3OvM8yAcGWj4kPXlbO8cMopgRb_IKF7oRCqODsU9HUaE/s1600-h/IMG_6676.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSmptb4HJVxiL_II82-atesDA7SAlVBGxJCi111oIhpOurAQh9o75R4OzKqtASjLCWZTycvmz9EjHK07YcYZVWLDe0_JMrdB3OvM8yAcGWj4kPXlbO8cMopgRb_IKF7oRCqODsU9HUaE/s400/IMG_6676.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366738134980838466" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCvv3ZHM-eCB9T_TxeI7qE5aYqsk8_524sYNwXR-I2r8SN4bvElBb5bh7QVefhS0ppCcAz6Uy5SHDXyqiAUEJX-QeIWbmCeUFZFNIEwHlRx7f3jkUxP-UXLz5q1ZPyP3-aJiCi5tXlSQ/s1600-h/IMG_6672.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCvv3ZHM-eCB9T_TxeI7qE5aYqsk8_524sYNwXR-I2r8SN4bvElBb5bh7QVefhS0ppCcAz6Uy5SHDXyqiAUEJX-QeIWbmCeUFZFNIEwHlRx7f3jkUxP-UXLz5q1ZPyP3-aJiCi5tXlSQ/s400/IMG_6672.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366738125319433666" border="0" /></a>I think they need to seriously think about redoing that term...I've never seen a dog sleep quite like Newton can!Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-11733888929894842222009-07-27T23:09:00.001-07:002009-07-27T23:33:35.598-07:00Newton.I was going to do a blog about our new place (which rocks, by the way) but decided instead to do one about Newton, a kitten we are kitten-sitting for a week.<br /><br />We were a bit apprehensive about taking him in at first because I have a pretty significant cat allergy. By pretty significant, I mean that I get hives the size of Alaska and sneeze my frontal lobe out every time I am near a feline. I wasn't always allergic, but ever since I went off to college, it was bestowed on me. Phooey, I say.<br /><br />But, alas, his cuteness won me over, and I decided that living off of Benadryl for a week would be worth it. I missed having a cat around.<br /><br />Anyway, here are some pictures of the little guy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYsKrg3g___hz0BBQVxYS-rAalv29lkIKFkWYT-RIXWThDDzn3gQVZ1j9A_yGbKigxtiVbGUDS3VnipE922nwiTuv3ocl1vDOds-8biGm1zLYp_J0I8u95gQ0oAotXzROPgt0-jEcnl_U/s1600-h/IMG_6652.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYsKrg3g___hz0BBQVxYS-rAalv29lkIKFkWYT-RIXWThDDzn3gQVZ1j9A_yGbKigxtiVbGUDS3VnipE922nwiTuv3ocl1vDOds-8biGm1zLYp_J0I8u95gQ0oAotXzROPgt0-jEcnl_U/s320/IMG_6652.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363391926049056786" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOWFJcmZ0jVrrZ1uILdLZ03j5aaazOICZXBLd8_t1yWO8S5SX6Zkd5ZehJyG8jYa36aaWFZp-uvYHadxiODyP_U3wW9VzNY7gUxJABoaxKKPLFo54qE3qGyc62kxsElFhBntvwinX-Gzk/s1600-h/IMG_6651.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOWFJcmZ0jVrrZ1uILdLZ03j5aaazOICZXBLd8_t1yWO8S5SX6Zkd5ZehJyG8jYa36aaWFZp-uvYHadxiODyP_U3wW9VzNY7gUxJABoaxKKPLFo54qE3qGyc62kxsElFhBntvwinX-Gzk/s320/IMG_6651.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363391933046096066" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizVFxqROg6I28fOvjD9v0kh4_Xm2oq6sZdaWqNyaPZcB0IpRuvBR_E6MndDPtkgncD6RGDoNtmhl1VROFCjrPrDhlkYeusOeV8lfA3xDUATmETnjBoO0PuQlaw_Sp_qxXv8TgjXyxNkR0/s1600-h/IMG_6647.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizVFxqROg6I28fOvjD9v0kh4_Xm2oq6sZdaWqNyaPZcB0IpRuvBR_E6MndDPtkgncD6RGDoNtmhl1VROFCjrPrDhlkYeusOeV8lfA3xDUATmETnjBoO0PuQlaw_Sp_qxXv8TgjXyxNkR0/s320/IMG_6647.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363391919412644018" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9tDPAnd4oLeLd7OshD4jVcZdkvYDfJLvFPIcL6r_WEXySqrVfUIjqHCV_dwKWgCI7TtLS0_4MCrLmM-kHvaD9oS5ZdbCXczsermKoIOs4DmPmPh4W75ioCOhxAI3ykJqJyt79tKOY4Q4/s1600-h/IMG_6649.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9tDPAnd4oLeLd7OshD4jVcZdkvYDfJLvFPIcL6r_WEXySqrVfUIjqHCV_dwKWgCI7TtLS0_4MCrLmM-kHvaD9oS5ZdbCXczsermKoIOs4DmPmPh4W75ioCOhxAI3ykJqJyt79tKOY4Q4/s320/IMG_6649.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363391911682931026" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs7bune8KFeh_s7BvA62p7YCVjSocs5tVuL7IligZR1EcxSpRRAuEudBB1169yPS8tiR8QC6XiSJZV1W_9L2opbzZEQN91Oxi7A498Rx6aKknfJ5gmTJIpCnpW5F3fWuLasc58-j2JBOU/s1600-h/IMG_6635.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs7bune8KFeh_s7BvA62p7YCVjSocs5tVuL7IligZR1EcxSpRRAuEudBB1169yPS8tiR8QC6XiSJZV1W_9L2opbzZEQN91Oxi7A498Rx6aKknfJ5gmTJIpCnpW5F3fWuLasc58-j2JBOU/s320/IMG_6635.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363391907029001458" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Also, I took some video of him playing with the laser pointer. I think they are pretty entertaining. When he's awake, he's more or less non-stop. I can only write this now because he's sleeping, otherwise he'd be on top of my laptop, attacking the keys.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dycpzNC6nA_KM1C0IN8oxRMfkdVWLd0kuiLVOQlf5pQZip7WLTMPPiUaFOaC7uy0-Ho0L_nwxM2wSx4YqfQQQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwO28OeBwpJrtTvf48TYEeTYME319qq8IIf7eZyNsIVb_B8MqxKWA_IGHjT-1IyumbutMeaK18WNb8tvqgMaQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-22855662595400142752009-07-12T13:15:00.000-07:002009-07-12T14:09:57.124-07:00An apartment cleaned, a lesson learnedIt's not often that one has an epiphany while cleaning an oven.<br /><br />But, it happened to me.<br /><br />See, I was really anxious before we moved. Suddenly, I couldn't remember why we were moving. After our roommate moved out, our apartment felt huge again, and I could not fathom living anywhere else.<br /><br />I cried a ton on my birthday, because each time I saw our mountain of boxes, I didn't want to leave. I cried when we came to the new apartment because it felt so different than our home. I didn't sleep at all the night before we moved, and I felt sick and miserable about leaving.<br /><br />But anyway, the truck was packed, and on what felt like the hottest day in the history of the world, we moved out of our little tree house.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6FBN0XlkMsKZPaMuW5JsG2ozPlgP1CyvwuGQPdpvJZXGzITVoLCAJnDbQYqY4RXSzCJrpdTwkgZ0EFcfd34-wAcmUPfAbdxLkKHFYvOjjSYVwbGvZKwNO93qA3BixxCZHGcsKRAzEA3g/s1600-h/IMG_6433.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6FBN0XlkMsKZPaMuW5JsG2ozPlgP1CyvwuGQPdpvJZXGzITVoLCAJnDbQYqY4RXSzCJrpdTwkgZ0EFcfd34-wAcmUPfAbdxLkKHFYvOjjSYVwbGvZKwNO93qA3BixxCZHGcsKRAzEA3g/s400/IMG_6433.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357683121029100290" border="0" /></a><br />I kept wandering around the new place, feeling like I was just on vacation and would promptly be returning home, while Evan, totally enamored with the in-unit washer/dryer, promptly did four loads of laundry and went about unpacking boxes while I moped.<br /><br />The next day, we trooped over to the old apartment to clean it. I was nervous, because I just knew that I'd be overcome with homesickness and never want to leave it again.<br /><br /><br />But, as I dusted, vacuumed, scrubbed and washed this old apartment, I suddenly saw it just as it was: an old, empty apartment. There was nothing in those old rooms that made it feel like home. I didn't feel overcome with homesickness because this place was so obviously not my home. It was an old, (very dusty) apartment that I had lived in once.<br /><br />I had just a little bit of time to think about this, because the next day, we headed up to Portland to celebrate the Fourth with my family. And here, I was home. I was home because I was with my family, and with people I loved.<br /><br />And a few days after that, we came home to Corvallis. Again, I was home because I was with a person I care so very much about.<br /><br />Most of you probably know this, but it took me a good hour of cleaning out our old oven and vacuuming corners with dust cougars to realize that it's not a place that makes a home, or the furniture in it: it's the people that make it home. One doesn't go home after a long day thinking, "I am going home to a great, Craftsman-era bungalow with great built-ins and wood detail," they think, "I am going home to my family."<br /><br />Regardless of where I am, if I am with family, with people I love, then I am home. Right now, home is right here in this quiet corner of Corvallis with Evan. I know that now, and I couldn't be happier.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuA1X6FWYhAU02cxK3be3NJDaYkYIPcGhizhickKfJNcGMhuQppqxjdnYvd1qXv7AvAxWV0vbI7Op2o2kbl2uJfY5A_a4ubmYhRDINUsKFIgMyg-mOT2N9B8t5QkXkqn1wLi2rHu3EtoA/s1600-h/IMG_6473.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuA1X6FWYhAU02cxK3be3NJDaYkYIPcGhizhickKfJNcGMhuQppqxjdnYvd1qXv7AvAxWV0vbI7Op2o2kbl2uJfY5A_a4ubmYhRDINUsKFIgMyg-mOT2N9B8t5QkXkqn1wLi2rHu3EtoA/s400/IMG_6473.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357683125578524210" border="0" /></a><br />Plus, the in-unit laundry is pretty rockin'.Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-75536069029663639332009-06-30T00:39:00.000-07:002009-06-30T01:11:53.923-07:00Packing up and movin' on out!So, it is final. We are headed out of this wonderfully ancient apartment and moving 3.3 miles down the road to a better one here in Corvallis.<br /><br />For posterity's sake, here are the things I will miss:<br /><br /><ul><li>Having not one, but two parking spaces assigned to us, and not having to pay a ridiculous amount for it.</li><li>The trees all around our apartment. Since we live on the third floor, it is a little like living in a tree house, and I just loved looking out of the windows and seeing a forest of green.<br /></li><li>Having the coolest manager ever. Steve is awesome. I am pretty sure he can hear me singing at full volume in the shower because our bathroom shares a wall with his apartment, but he has never mentioned it, or given me the stink-eye after I belt out The Killer's "Mr. Brightside" fifty times a week.<br /></li><li>Being super close to downtown. I love taking walks to the waterfront and dinking around all the little bookstores and shops without having to worry about parallel parking (aka me crashing into an expensive car while trying)<br /></li><li>The windows this place has. Seriously, we don't ever need to turn a light on in the summer. Or winter, for that matter. Natural light just tends to stream in.<br /></li><li>This is probably more applicable to Evan, but the kitchen here is pretty awesome. I have been able to appreciate it when I go in there to get a glass of water or make toast. Ev really likes having a really giant island he can do his (or all,) cooking done.<br /></li><li>The office. We are actually moving to a slightly smaller place, and I will miss the size of our office here. We could comfortably fit a bookcase, two desks, and a couch in our office and still have room to spare. I wrote all my final papers, letters, and journal entries in here because it was always relaxing to be in that space. I crammed for tests, cried over the grades I received on tests, and had some of the best conversations with Evan in that room.</li><li>Just the comfort I feel here. This was our first apartment together, and we've had millions of moments here that built up and made it feel like <span style="font-style: italic;">home. </span>There is a part of me that is scared to leave this place, because even with it's flaws, it is perfect to me. </li></ul><br />And, to ease the fear of moving, here are the things I won't miss:<br /><br /><ul><li>Drunken college students walked below our balcony every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night.<br /></li><li>The Big Brother-esque street light that shines directly into our dining room<br /></li><li>Kitchen cabinets that are crooked and roughly the same color as Snuffulufagus</li><li>Yellow, faux marble countertops.<br /></li><li>Having to do our laundry in a dungeon next to where they keep the Dumpster.<br /></li><li>A shower door that seemingly hates to stay on the track, especially right at the moment the water gets cold and you have shampoo in your eye.<br /></li><li>The stairs to our third floor apartment here are so steep and treacherous that one must almost hire a Sherpa to help ascend. All (and I mean all) of our friends (and most of our parents) have tripped or fallen going up or down those stairs.<br /></li><li>Being half a block from the fire and police station. I sleep through all sirens now, which I fear is a disadvantage in trying to survive. If they go by during the day, however, I can tell the difference between a cop car, ambulance, or fire engine just by listening to the stupid siren.<br /></li></ul><br />All in all, it has been a wonderful two years here, and while I will miss it and always look back on our first big Couple Adventure with fond memories, I think this move will be good for us and bring on a whole new slew of moments. The next blog entry from me will probably be from our new home! 'Till then, take care, and blog yourselves so I have something to read when I take a break from packing!Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-32638905833220715102009-06-14T18:31:00.001-07:002009-06-14T18:54:18.725-07:00June 2009Please excuse my absence, I've been trying to stay sane with everything June has had me up to.<br /><br /><br />First, I had to keep my students entertained until the last day, which was a feat unto itself. The 8th had been checked out since the 1st of June, and I all but had to juggle textbooks for them to pay attention. When the last day finally came, I realized that I would definitely miss those kids, especially the ones that I had forged a connection with. I told one that I was planning on going to his high school graduation, and when I said that, he looked at me, and said, "do you really think I'll make it there?"<br /><br />I said, "of course you will!" And his eyes teared up and he said, "okay teacher, I will see you there!"<br /><br />I hate to sound cliche, but it's moments like that that seem to evaporate all the bad days. It has been such a great year, and I have learned so much. I don't think those kids realize how much they have taught <span style="font-weight: bold;">me</span> about patience, compassion, commitment, humor, and love. I owe them a lot, and will miss them next year.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br />My 8th graders<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQTtMsEPSEkssUGae0LpiYsK-gCU9GBWBMcMhQr3WDVGk5OML5N13jsP7aQTNCeA_QjCmWVBuM2tAwcYlSZkLg7CXGsnmMBwB2EvEf00jilyBewZeq5OY0SThz_-Ajkwxlh-YFRifY-I/s1600-h/IMG_6253.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYQTtMsEPSEkssUGae0LpiYsK-gCU9GBWBMcMhQr3WDVGk5OML5N13jsP7aQTNCeA_QjCmWVBuM2tAwcYlSZkLg7CXGsnmMBwB2EvEf00jilyBewZeq5OY0SThz_-Ajkwxlh-YFRifY-I/s400/IMG_6253.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347364693755844818" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKAZm_gTB-cO0wVXBhCtwZ23fTCZx0lVeAQE5WQpRLLIVwHac7bR1T_Dxk-_1VY6bXQCt4VtQCWmW1jaHwQuVnAGWpfw4AR7caEHIVF3BRHQe7u7H70lXgIJEkCIe_UwyBBhZIdCJ1DRM/s1600-h/IMG_6260.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKAZm_gTB-cO0wVXBhCtwZ23fTCZx0lVeAQE5WQpRLLIVwHac7bR1T_Dxk-_1VY6bXQCt4VtQCWmW1jaHwQuVnAGWpfw4AR7caEHIVF3BRHQe7u7H70lXgIJEkCIe_UwyBBhZIdCJ1DRM/s400/IMG_6260.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347364698114415410" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Good luck with everything, guys! </span><br /><br /></div>Also in the last few weeks, we've decided on a new apartment here in Corvallis, and are planning to move on my birthday, July 1st. It is going to be a big move for us, but I think we're ready. Also, we get to choose paint colors, and being the gigantic HGTV freak that I am, I am totally excited about that.<br /><br />Finally, but most importantly, Evan graduated from Oregon State University on the 13th, with <span style="font-style: italic;">two </span>degrees! One in Education and one in History, plus a teaching license. It was exciting to sit and watch him culminate these last five years of school. He has worked hard, and I could not be more proud of him! It's funny to think that we met as college freshmen, and are still together and facing new experiences as graduates. I can't wait to see what new adventures Life takes us on!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Evan in the sea of graduates<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmYDM1CwEQv6UerNkscHiEYJsK4mYHUVs1L_wtnboQ_jdrB6YWTg1Gm7a-cd7kBf5V7FVjszfQSnsZz_q-1dDW-WTLasaYOM8S8yJyI4128-lZEp_1b8fFCdEXzd1LQUDoiWeTQDyFmCA/s1600-h/IMG_6296.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmYDM1CwEQv6UerNkscHiEYJsK4mYHUVs1L_wtnboQ_jdrB6YWTg1Gm7a-cd7kBf5V7FVjszfQSnsZz_q-1dDW-WTLasaYOM8S8yJyI4128-lZEp_1b8fFCdEXzd1LQUDoiWeTQDyFmCA/s400/IMG_6296.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347365693800282834" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4-XmQcAhWZCyzOYFPg0pUXE_62Y6LQNvW8LawlxYEOOcah1xy1i1f1CTjxFjMv_YO04md5FOeoIY3LmUTsVaa0lSkc9__QsAWrKkgKHyoeaFXDuQzSCw0KwUCjFKQ3Py1mXSnklMXN24/s1600-h/IMG_6305.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4-XmQcAhWZCyzOYFPg0pUXE_62Y6LQNvW8LawlxYEOOcah1xy1i1f1CTjxFjMv_YO04md5FOeoIY3LmUTsVaa0lSkc9__QsAWrKkgKHyoeaFXDuQzSCw0KwUCjFKQ3Py1mXSnklMXN24/s400/IMG_6305.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347365704626558786" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Apparently, OSU has a song that Alumni are supposed to know<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmkm3xXhym1ToClMsVDAlaTrtWppgq1C-m01LkP_kF-PGMmR6EfxDAVRKTQy9b3-a6rHj2RQFpQGkaiG9UVjLdGazmfFoaS8YzF_NWbvvUX1tpJ2d1sXhNdVgJeV-7Wxn8ybvHrHH7jiE/s1600-h/IMG_6312.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmkm3xXhym1ToClMsVDAlaTrtWppgq1C-m01LkP_kF-PGMmR6EfxDAVRKTQy9b3-a6rHj2RQFpQGkaiG9UVjLdGazmfFoaS8YzF_NWbvvUX1tpJ2d1sXhNdVgJeV-7Wxn8ybvHrHH7jiE/s400/IMG_6312.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347365707235333954" border="0" /></a>Me with the new alum!<br /><br />Congrats, Ev!<br /></div>Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1938554974019139224.post-4649541550044535492009-05-07T22:21:00.001-07:002009-05-07T22:24:57.514-07:00sing it to me, RayI love Ray Lamontagne, (evidenced by my going and buying all three of his albums because I couldn't stand to leave one behind) and I especially like this cover he did of Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy". I know, I know. I too, got so sick of that song during the summer of 2007 that I felt nauseous when it came on the radio, but Ray (we are on a first name basis; he just doesn't know it) puts a really great spin on it, and I can listen to it over and over, dramamine free.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6mEfDSP4g_U&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6mEfDSP4g_U&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Marielahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18122945690182009940noreply@blogger.com1