A ten hour drive last weekend put me, Damon and his family in San Diego for the weekend. While it was Stephan's wedding we planned on driving down to see, we were also lucky enough to spend some time with Jeff, a mutual friend. Arriving much later than expected, dazed from the long drive and seeking hydration, we unloaded our bags in a spare bedroom at the new apartment of Nadya and Jeff. It served better as a dorm apartment for two people, but it still worked for the couple.
Jeff woke us the next morning with a professionally prepared breakfast for his folks who were visiting from out of town, and Damon and I. When it was nearing the time of the wedding, I slipped into a pretty peacock blue dress, slathered sunscreen on my arms and shoulders and we headed to La Jolla Cove. Stephan and Melissa were having their wedding on the roof of a hotel overlooking the beach. Classy.
The sun was out but the breeze from the ocean welcomed the guests as they arrived. I immediately noticed the table offering yellowed colored sweets, from Jelly Belly's to lemon drops. Then I saw the buffet table and dining table rounds. I couldn't help it. Months ago, I wouldn't have thought about the catering aspect of it, but now I kept thinking, How interestingly they've folded the napkins; Now those are great silverware designs; and I wonder if they'll be doing table service or if they're just clearing? I quickly found a young guy setting up a votive candle and asked him about his company. Who knows, I might be a caterer after I graduate...pay those bills.
About halfway through the cocktail hour I noticed the sun. Did I remember to put sunscreen on my back? Probably. I'm sure I didn't forget. Well, I forgot. Needless to say, I was cherry red by the afternoon. My unplanned summer bake prevented me from truly enjoying the company of the bride and groom's family and friends but I will say that being with Damon was certainly my favorite part. He actually encouraged me to dance with him a few times, even leading me to a shaded area so I could dance longer without sun exposure.
He's a special guy and I was lucky to spend so much time with him (and his lovely family) last weekend. I'm certainly no fan of being in a car that long, but I wouldn't want to be cramped and uncomfortable with anyone else. ^_^ And isn't that what truly matters in a relationship? To fondly remember those uncomfortable moments with a smile and a laugh.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
World Fest 2011
Once a year I set aside the third weekend in July for a very special event. One a year, I reunite with folks I've both befriended or simply given a nickname too, since I was 11 years old. Every year I look a little older, get a little wiser, broaden my musical interest. But this weekend remains more or less the same. The California WorldFest at the Nevada City Fairgrounds is my home-away-from-home.
As a dependent child living in my mother's world, WorldFest was an escape, like Harry Potter or theater. It was a world that existed long enough for me to forget the troubles of paying bills, living without electricity and daily arguments with my mom. In the comfort of the fairgrounds, Chelsea and I found good music, world-inspired food and my aunt's fun and spirited company. No longer was I under my mother's harsh complaints and overbearing behavior. Chelsea and I were the independent, witty and intellectual festival twins, token favorites of the DJs at KVMR and the local festival goers.
Every year I left my worries and entered a world all of my own. Where band members knew us by name and no one in Folsom could ever imagine us there. And that's how this festival remained for many years. We never invited friends or boyfriends. It was our own special weekend to be completly independent of the social expectations of others. When we finally invited a friend of ours, it was indeed fun and exciting, but felt different than every other year. Chelsea eventually invited Mike, who lapped up the musical talent of the bands, but did not partake in our ritual dancing. We didn't mind. Dancing was something Chelsea and I loved to do together.
This year, however, I finally did it. I let someone experience the world I kept all to myself for so long. With previous boyfriends, I knew they wouldn't appreciate WorldFest for how it has shaped and molded me into the eclectic and mature girl I was today. No, they'd have been bored and selfish, unadventurous in the food and unwilling to experience something different. But that was until I met Damon.
I invited him almost a year ago, convinced that even if the hippies and strange music wasn't his thing, he'd still revel in the unique opportunity to listen to music and eat great food under the pine trees of a beautiful mountainous region. And I was right =) He arrived Saturday. The moment I saw him I felt the combination of two important worlds, intertwining together with absolutely no difficulty. He looked relaxed and natural in this environment, a camping water bottle slung over his shoulder. I no longer felt like I wanted to keep WorldFest a hidden secret from my significant other. Damon was instantly welcome in my childhood world of good music and good fun. And there he would remain.
The rest of the day we checked out the different music stages. We sat and relaxed to some Cajun music and stood and swayed to Handful of Luvin', a band who remembered us from two years ago and stole the show with their upbeat, folk music. Damon munched on a Greek salad that night and napped on my feet that evening. That night, I got to snuggle up with him in Jeanne's living room, satisfied by his easy immersion into my annual festival. Even on Sunday, he had taken off his shoes and shirt for the warm July day. Halfway through another dose of Luvin', Mike arrived. The four of us, along with Jeanne and Ron, enjoyed the rest the last day at the festival.
Damon learned a few new tricks of juggling. He actually came up to dance with me during a groovy song from Handful of Luvin'. We played on The Green, with a beach ball to entertain us. Damon suggested a great sneaking game, which provided us hours of entertainment and fun during an evening show. And we even got to play with a Frisbee. =) All in all, it turned out to be the same ol' great festival, but much different thanks to the positive addition of Damon.
As a dependent child living in my mother's world, WorldFest was an escape, like Harry Potter or theater. It was a world that existed long enough for me to forget the troubles of paying bills, living without electricity and daily arguments with my mom. In the comfort of the fairgrounds, Chelsea and I found good music, world-inspired food and my aunt's fun and spirited company. No longer was I under my mother's harsh complaints and overbearing behavior. Chelsea and I were the independent, witty and intellectual festival twins, token favorites of the DJs at KVMR and the local festival goers.
Every year I left my worries and entered a world all of my own. Where band members knew us by name and no one in Folsom could ever imagine us there. And that's how this festival remained for many years. We never invited friends or boyfriends. It was our own special weekend to be completly independent of the social expectations of others. When we finally invited a friend of ours, it was indeed fun and exciting, but felt different than every other year. Chelsea eventually invited Mike, who lapped up the musical talent of the bands, but did not partake in our ritual dancing. We didn't mind. Dancing was something Chelsea and I loved to do together.
This year, however, I finally did it. I let someone experience the world I kept all to myself for so long. With previous boyfriends, I knew they wouldn't appreciate WorldFest for how it has shaped and molded me into the eclectic and mature girl I was today. No, they'd have been bored and selfish, unadventurous in the food and unwilling to experience something different. But that was until I met Damon.
I invited him almost a year ago, convinced that even if the hippies and strange music wasn't his thing, he'd still revel in the unique opportunity to listen to music and eat great food under the pine trees of a beautiful mountainous region. And I was right =) He arrived Saturday. The moment I saw him I felt the combination of two important worlds, intertwining together with absolutely no difficulty. He looked relaxed and natural in this environment, a camping water bottle slung over his shoulder. I no longer felt like I wanted to keep WorldFest a hidden secret from my significant other. Damon was instantly welcome in my childhood world of good music and good fun. And there he would remain.
The rest of the day we checked out the different music stages. We sat and relaxed to some Cajun music and stood and swayed to Handful of Luvin', a band who remembered us from two years ago and stole the show with their upbeat, folk music. Damon munched on a Greek salad that night and napped on my feet that evening. That night, I got to snuggle up with him in Jeanne's living room, satisfied by his easy immersion into my annual festival. Even on Sunday, he had taken off his shoes and shirt for the warm July day. Halfway through another dose of Luvin', Mike arrived. The four of us, along with Jeanne and Ron, enjoyed the rest the last day at the festival.
Damon learned a few new tricks of juggling. He actually came up to dance with me during a groovy song from Handful of Luvin'. We played on The Green, with a beach ball to entertain us. Damon suggested a great sneaking game, which provided us hours of entertainment and fun during an evening show. And we even got to play with a Frisbee. =) All in all, it turned out to be the same ol' great festival, but much different thanks to the positive addition of Damon.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Fourth of July, The Simple Pleasures
Loch Lomond in Santa Cruz
The perfect, relaxing day for the Fourth of July...now that I had finally arrived! Sunburned and donning Damon's white button-down shirt that was two sizes too big for me, I buried myself in the back seat of Galen's car with a large bowl of salad on my lap and headed out for the day ahead. Needless to say, our carpool took the road less traveled because we we finally made it, after an hour on Highway 9, following sketchy signs to the lake. Apparently, there was a quicker way =)
The lake was gorgeous, the food was abundant and the company was superb. I met Damon's sister from New York, and her Steampunk-inspired boyfriend, Noam. I enjoyed a light-hearted conversation with family friends, Ryan and Leise. Damon taught me more about his new lifestyle, what he calls "primal" and walked barefoot with me on a trail that hugged the lake. I spent some time alone with Galen, while we stuffed mushrooms and chucks of raw meat on shish-kabob sticks. And that evening, Tammy and I were chauffeured around the lake on a paddle-boat by our boyfriends.
For all the hours spent in my oven-cooker of a car, dehydrated, hungry, tired and sweaty, I was instantly removed from the worries and troubles of life and taken over by a sense of serene pleasure that comes only when we stop and relax once in a while.
I hope to I spend many more afternoons at Lake Lomond with Damon.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
The Third of July, a Traveler's Nightmare.
She adjusted herself once again in the driver's side of her 79' Honda Accord. Breaking her previous promise of not looking at the clock, she regrettably noted that it had been an hour since she had reached San Jose. Traffic on Highway 17 remained at a deadlock, as the smell of idling gasoline filled her nostrils. This wouldn't be so bad, she thought, if only I had proper air conditioning. She eye-balled the other passengers in the cars around her. A blonde lady with pursed lips beside her had opened a bottle of water and began to drink it appreciatively. Rachel couldn't help but be envious of everyone she saw in the other cars. Some had even broken into their picnic baskets for drinks instead of waiting for the Santa Cruz beach later. She couldn't blame them.
The journey had started early Sunday, the day before July 4th. At 10:00 am, after dropping off a friend in Berkley, Rachel had embarked on her much anticipated weekend in Santa Cruz with Damon and his family. She was happy to leave early enough to give herself plenty of time to enjoy the city before the day was over. But as soon as she hit Highway 880, her prospects of arriving promptly at 12:30 at Damon's apartment became utterly lost in the vast sea of cars that crowded the freeway. It was useless to pull over and wait for the traffic to subside. She knew she'd be stuck in it all the way to Ocean Street.
The skin on her left forearm began to burn. The heat from the car irritated it so that she felt uncomfortable simply hanging her sore limb out the window. As the sun drenched her from head to toe, she wished she had been smart enough to put sunscreen on before starting out. She knew she was going to pay dearly for that mistake, but she didn't know how much longer this taunting traffic would last. Surely she'd be there soon?
It wasn't until 4 o'clock that she arrived at the steps of Damon's apartment, expelling her last ounce of strength to climb the wooden stairs to his front door. She exhaled a sign of relief when she tried the handle and it opened easily, exposing his living room inside. Damon stood in the middle of the room, and looked at her with eyes of joy. She wanted to express her happiness at finally making it to Santa Cruz but instead she rattled off every negative aspect of her journey to her innocent boyfriend. Amongst them: the soreness of her feet, ankles, hips and lower back; her hunger and soul-threatening thirst, the heat and lack of proper coolant for the atrocious amount of hours spent under 5 MPH. She may have conveniently forgotten to mention that her eyes sting stung with salty tears that she shed in utter mental and physical exhaustion in the car.
When at last she was finished and had unwound her arms from Damon's waist, he poured her a tall glass of cold water (which she promptly drank down and filled up again) and took her upstairs. He left her lying on his bed and jogged downstairs again. When he reappeared, he was holding a large bowl of water, rags, and ice packs, which he began placing over her forehead and left side to cool her body heat. Immediately her body felt more relaxed and cooler. She closed her eyelids and concentrated on the damp ice packs that lined her left arm. Gladly welcomed water droplets dripped down her face and onto her neck. With each rag her placed on her, she felt better and happier. The day had been worth every ounce of agony because she was finally with Damon again. Her arduous trip soon became a distant memory as she appreciatively ran her fingertips through Damon's hair.
She wondered if he would ever know just how much she was grateful for his love and care.
........to be continued.
The journey had started early Sunday, the day before July 4th. At 10:00 am, after dropping off a friend in Berkley, Rachel had embarked on her much anticipated weekend in Santa Cruz with Damon and his family. She was happy to leave early enough to give herself plenty of time to enjoy the city before the day was over. But as soon as she hit Highway 880, her prospects of arriving promptly at 12:30 at Damon's apartment became utterly lost in the vast sea of cars that crowded the freeway. It was useless to pull over and wait for the traffic to subside. She knew she'd be stuck in it all the way to Ocean Street.
The skin on her left forearm began to burn. The heat from the car irritated it so that she felt uncomfortable simply hanging her sore limb out the window. As the sun drenched her from head to toe, she wished she had been smart enough to put sunscreen on before starting out. She knew she was going to pay dearly for that mistake, but she didn't know how much longer this taunting traffic would last. Surely she'd be there soon?
It wasn't until 4 o'clock that she arrived at the steps of Damon's apartment, expelling her last ounce of strength to climb the wooden stairs to his front door. She exhaled a sign of relief when she tried the handle and it opened easily, exposing his living room inside. Damon stood in the middle of the room, and looked at her with eyes of joy. She wanted to express her happiness at finally making it to Santa Cruz but instead she rattled off every negative aspect of her journey to her innocent boyfriend. Amongst them: the soreness of her feet, ankles, hips and lower back; her hunger and soul-threatening thirst, the heat and lack of proper coolant for the atrocious amount of hours spent under 5 MPH. She may have conveniently forgotten to mention that her eyes sting stung with salty tears that she shed in utter mental and physical exhaustion in the car.
When at last she was finished and had unwound her arms from Damon's waist, he poured her a tall glass of cold water (which she promptly drank down and filled up again) and took her upstairs. He left her lying on his bed and jogged downstairs again. When he reappeared, he was holding a large bowl of water, rags, and ice packs, which he began placing over her forehead and left side to cool her body heat. Immediately her body felt more relaxed and cooler. She closed her eyelids and concentrated on the damp ice packs that lined her left arm. Gladly welcomed water droplets dripped down her face and onto her neck. With each rag her placed on her, she felt better and happier. The day had been worth every ounce of agony because she was finally with Damon again. Her arduous trip soon became a distant memory as she appreciatively ran her fingertips through Damon's hair.
She wondered if he would ever know just how much she was grateful for his love and care.
........to be continued.
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