Of iPhones and Memories

My husband's iPhone was stolen 5 weeks ago. It was quite an event for him and though it was only a cell phone, it affected a lot of his daily life:

Me: Kurt, do you have my sister's address?
Kurt: Oh shoot! No! It was in my iphone!

Kurt: Christie! Can you find the email list for my YM program?
Me: Don't you have that list? I don't even know where to begin to find them!
Kurt: Well.....it was in my iphone.

Well...you get the picture. But because he is still under contract with AT&T, he will have to pay the full price for a replacement. Or he can wait until Nov 1 when his contract ends and he can get a new iPhone for less money. So for 6 weeks, he has been using a very small cellphone that cost him $19.95. It cannot email nor access the internet. But it can make and receive calls and texts. It does not have any memory to function more than that and other simple calculations.

My mother suffered a heart attack exactly a week ago. The repercussions have been devastating. She woke up in a highly confused state, not knowing her name, what happened or the date. I am having a difficult time sorting out how this happened and I find that I am woefully ill-prepared to handle these changes. She seems to be going in and out of memory. She turns 80 in a few weeks and was in good health and now...snap!--her life has changed. And so have ours. Her memory is severely compromised and now she will have to  learn to build a new life...become a new person.

Memory is such a vital part of one's life and balance. I can't help but see a correlation between Kurt's iphone loss and my mom's loss of memory. Kurt will have to input new data that will aid him in making his work easier. Much pertinent information will be stored in his new  iphone and he will  rely on it because this small contraption can hold enormous amounts of it. But my mom will have to find a way to make the quality of her life as satisfactory as her memory will permit.

Forgetting is such a debilitating and paralyzing enterprise. There is a reason why we are enjoined to remember the past; to remember the lessons wrought by our challenges, trials and errors. And forgetting can also be merciful as we forget the things that hurt us, enslave us or weaken our resolve to do better.

It's been such a challenge to pass through Gethsemane again....to see my mother lose her functions. But in time, I hope to forget the pain and remember only the good that has come from being her daughter.

Pheasant... peasant...feesunt...

Can you believe??

Am reposting this story:


So last Saturday, an old friend suddenly calls late at night.  She wants to drop by to see my house. Of course, I'm very excited to see her! So she let me talk to the owner of the house they were staying at and I find out that she is only a 10 minute drive from me. GREAT! So I try to give this friend of hers some directions. Here's a little excerpt of our conversation.

Her: Heel-loh. Yees. Wir ees yur hawes?

Me: It's on Pecos and Warm Springs. I'm so close to you.

Her: Ay. Pee-koos. Yah. Yah. Yah. And warm eespreengs. So, ip I goo oon PEEKOOS, wir ees ur hawse? What ees ur ahd-drees?

Me: It's Pheasant Ridge Drive.

Her: Ay. Pee-sant?

Me: (pause) Pheasant. P as in Paul, H as in Harry. Pheasant like....the bird. Ibon baga.

Her: Ah yah. Pee-sant Ridge?

Me: Hindi. (I aspirate my "ph" to distinguish between pheasant and peasant) PHEASANT RIDGE DRIVE. As in, the "bird", you know, pheasant. NOT 'peasant'. (I did not know how else to explain this....so I tried to spell it again....) P as in Philippines, H as in Heavenly.

Her: Oo. Yah. Cree-sent Ridge.

Me: No, not Crescent Ridge, PHEASANT RIDGE. (I am getting annoyed.)

Her: Oo. Pee-sant. Sige. Wee weel paynd it.

Me: (Exasperated) Just tell them to call me when they're in the area. I am only a 10 minute drive. Tatlo o apat na liko lang. (Only 3 or 4 turns.)

 

************ONE HOUR LATER***********

My cell phone rings. It's my friend. They are on their way to the adjacent city---another city outside the city where I live. I am exhausted. It's late. And I have a deadline to meet.  I quickly give them more directions and ask them to call me when they are in the vicinity... They call again. They are now  just a street away so I stay on the phone until they find the main street that leads to my house. They are now at the gate. I ask her to hang up her cell phone and call my house on the gate phone so I can buzz the gate open. I wait 10 minutes. I am now alarmed. It does not take that long to ring my house from the gate. The gate phone is just a simple phone! Finally, the phone rings and my daughter buzzes the gate open and I run out the driveway to meet them. They dismiss my instructions and drive straight through instead of turning left where my house is. I see their car driving straight through. Now they will have to drive the loop around. I wait for the car to make the loop. They finally see me. They arrive. I am exhausted. After greeting them, the driver tells me that there must be TWO gates. I say, no, there is only ONE gate and I point to the gate. I am only three houses down from the gate. He looks absolutely perplexed.

Him: No. That's not the gate where we came from.

Me: It most certainly is!

Him: Noooo. That's not the gate we came from. We came in through the other gate.

Me: Believe me---THAT'S the gate you came from.

Him: (looking confused and pointing towards the direction they came from...) But we came from that direction. Isn't there a second gate that way?

Me: No. You made a complete loop around. (I point again to the gate they came in from....) That is the ONLY gate. That's the gate you entered.

Him: Ah.....I thought there were two gates.

Me: (speechless now....)

I decide that the conversation is not going anywhere so I leave it at that. I am dumbfounded.

I asked them what the confusion was. They said that they tried to google my address. They claim that the direction they got was completely different from mine. So they tried to type it again and each time got ANOTHER set of directions. They claim that my street is probably not on the map yet. I am incredulous. I am now really annoyed. I tell them that of course, my street is on the map! I ask them what street they typed on the search line. Oh yeah: CRESCENT Ridge Drive.

U.P. High graduates. Good grief.

Lucy's first dance recital

Things I lost in the move

 

As the years roll by and my hair has begun to turn white, I sometimes find myself lost in thought. I have lived in this, my adopted country for more than I've lived in my home country. I left the Philippines merely two weeks after my 19th year. I had never before flown in an airplane and that first time I did, I dressed up as most people during those days did. I wore a printed blue dress with a bow around my neck and a pair of white platform sandals. It was 1975 and the song "Leaving On A Jet Plane" was constantly being played in my house. Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young were hot. And everybody wanted to play the guitar like James Taylor...including me. We stopped to refuel and pick up more passengers in Guam before my final destination: Honolulu, Hawaii. I threw up several times from airsickness and my ears wouldn't pop. I didn't even know they were supposed to or that I could pop them by merely yawning or blowing air while I pinched my nose and closed my mouth. I just felt dizzy and disoriented. And sick.

I did not know what to expect once I'd landed. I had no idea what 'customs' was about or where I could find my luggage. Or if somebody from the university was going to pick me up. But things worked out fine and I found my place.

I found my place. Here I am over 36 years later and I've found my place. Yet, I cannot shake the feeling that I don't belong here and I yearn for that place where it all began just to walk the familiar roads, smell the sweet fragrances that I remember, speak that beautiful language of my youth and soothe myself with that familiar feeling of being "home". I can go back a dozen times but my "home" no longer exists. It is all different now. I am so much different now. And I find that that place I yearn to be exists only in some distant memory. So my heart sinks...searching...pining...longing for something that doesn't exist nor can be recreated. Crestfallen, I quietly weep inside me.

My children, who are only half Filipino, do not speak my language nor were exposed to my culture enough that they can relate to that half of their identities. But this is the result of deliberate choices that I made early on, the reasons being known only to myself. I made these decisions knowingly and with much thought. The reasons are important to me. But I paid a steep price.

So, as I see my grandchildren...all white skin and blue eyes with nary a trace of being a quarter Asian, I ponder and look back to make an assessment of the things I lost in the move... and only I know what they are.

Now, everything I hold dear is in me and so I now realize with exquisite clarity what I need to preserve for the generations to come because what I have is unique and priceless. The generations that follow me will not look like me nor will they understand what I miss when I am alone in my thoughts. I am their Filipino ancestor. I am a pioneer. I bring with me the pride of the Malay race, the strength of the Filipino warrior, the sweet music unique to my people, the resilience that comes from living in a place where the cadence of life is languid and the warmth of the air is sultry. I come from a land where the winds can be sinister, the rains can be relentless...where mountains are active and fire flows under the sea. I come from raw beauty... with mountains home to familiar ghosts and strange creatures and endless terraces carved along their slopes.  I come from an archipelago of 7,000 islands and a hundred different languages and dialects. Our statures may be small but our movements and aim are accurate. I come from a long generation of artists and mathematicians, scientists and teachers. I come from brilliance. In my veins flow the gracefulness of the Balangsatan and zarzuela poets and actors, musicians and singers. Languages and eloquence flow freely from my predecessors who speak at least two languages or multiple dialects. And my people move with fluid grace...easily but accurately relaying distinct emotions of love, friendship and solidarity. These are the people of the country of my birth....the place that exists only past the veil of time-- the things that I thought I lost when I moved. I realize...I never lost them. I am the reservoir of all these wonderful gifts. I carry them in my hands. I am a Filipino and I did not lose all that make me what I am when I moved. I pray that my children will find them, cherish them, be proud and pass them on.

"Billy, put down that phylactery, we're Episcopalians!"

I had the supreme pleasure a few years ago, of watching a wonderful Broadway play by Yasmin Reza called "Art" which starred Alan Alda and Victor Garber. I enjoyed the dialogue so much that I remember thinking...whoa--it would be great to hear dialogue like that in real life! I love beautifully spoken sentences. And I love beautifully constructed sentences! I used to collect sentences when I was in high school. 

The English language is so beautiful and I tend to be a purist. I like using "dove" instead of "dived". And I love it when the word "lie" is used properly to mean "lie down" as in "to lie down and sleep" instead of the common error that most Americans say, "I'm going to lay down here". And lately, I've been hearing people say "shined" instead of "shone". I am afraid that that might evolve into acceptable language and I'm already aghast thinking of that possibility.

I am mortified when I see the words "should of been" in written English. What exactly does that mean? Should of been? South of been? North of should? Should of New York City? I mean, come on! I should HAVE been more tolerant. But "should of been" does not make any lick of sense and anyone who understands grammar would know that "should have been" is the correct phrase. After all, it's part of the past passive modal tense--specifically the past passive form which is composed of the modal + have been + participle, i.e. "You should have been taught this rule in third grade--what's wrong with your teacher?"

These days I also hear a lot of people using 'a' and 'an' improperly. "I want a apple." I hear this and it's like someone scratching on the blackboard with their nails. I mean, honestly.

How about this: the violent murder of the phrase "in lieu of", from the French "in place of" which means, "instead of." I've heard people say: In lieu of the time, we will dispense with the closing hymn. And I cringe. I cringe like a miserable, constipated old cow. This is tantamount to saying "Instead of the time, we will do this..." And what exactly does that mean? Just picture me with a face like this:   :0

English elegantly spoken is just beautiful. I wish I could be more articulate and eloquent. But I least I don't say, "I should of known that" or "I wish she shined more light on me."

I know there are still many, who like me, appreciate the English language. Oh I do enjoy speaking the dialect of the region. I love speaking Pidgin English in Hawaii. And I like to pretend to use phrases like "fixin' to do that" or "mo bettah we live in Las Vegas". But elegantly written English is a wonder to behold. And English elegantly spoken is like music to my ears. And it just tells me that the person I heard speaking beautiful language has to be, in all certainly and most indubitably be educated and intelligent. And I can thus listen and be inspired. Or listen and be enriched.

It wasn't about the looks

The pictures above tell a story. The first photo was taken in June of 2010. I weighed about 172 lbs. When I saw this photo, I was taken aback because of how terrible I looked. First of all, my eyes were not clear. In fact, they were yellow and red. My face looked inflamed. My colour was bad...like the light in my face was dim. I noticed a few things about my health during this time. I had constant pains in my lower left flank. I thought that perhaps that I had something wrong with my kidneys. I remember spending a weekend at my friend's house in Danville, CA and going to the bathroom every half hour. I thought that was strange. But I was also often thirsty so I drank constantly. I also noticed that my thinking seemed muddy and my eyesight was failing. Nevertheless, I didn't want to address these symptoms because I was afraid...and in denial. 

Weeks later, I would be hospitalized for five days and diagnosed with diabetes with very high A1C levels meaning I had a high percentage of glucose attached to my red blood cells....so high that my doctor put me in the hospital to prevent diabetic ketoacidosis. Then I had to learn to give myself Lantus--insulin shots on my belly and thighs every night. It was the scariest, most traumatic experience of my life in terms of my health. I felt like my body betrayed me.

I've now lost over 20 pounds and have been taken off insulin. All my readings are now well controlled. And I am 15 lbs away from my realistic weight goal of 135. But I had no idea that these changes I've made would be difficult and fraught with huge challenges. 

I was paralyzed by the reactions of some of my friends who thought that I am now obsessed with my looks...that I've been submitting to some cosmetic procedures...that I'm being hoodwinked by doctors...that I have a poor body image...that I've turned into a shallow person....that I'm an idiot. There have been comments made behind my back. 

I have to admit that losing weight has been liberating. It made me feel empowered that I can wear clothes that I couldn't wear before. And the excitement about clothes that I couldn't wear before is intoxicating. I seriously enjoyed shopping and seeing how good the clothes hang on me. Is this self-indulgent? Is this arrogant and self-centered behaviour? Honestly, I don't have time to analyze my joy because..well, it's a natural consequence of the hard work involved in getting healthy! Who analyzes excitement anyway?

What really is throwing me for a loop is all the old emotions that have risen to the surface. How I wince when I get 'looks' from people. The obvious reaction of some friends who somehow feel threatened or think I've changed. I mean, I hope I HAVE changed. For the better! Am I not allowed to do that?

Being fat was less complicated. No one felt threatened. And more people felt superior. I found this to be simple. I mean, I can be intimidating because I'm smart. And I have some talent. But to be fat gives others permission to feel superior. 

Or being fat was also very comforting for me. I didn't have to deal. With my traumatic history of abuse and victimization, being fat meant that no one can have carnal thoughts about me...like when I was young. But now losing all that weight is confusing especially when I receive compliments. It's scary to me. So I tell myself that realistically, I am no longer nubile---far from it---at 55 years old. I am now a grandma. But feelings still rise to the surface and I feel panic rising despite logic and reality.

It's all too complicated. All I wanted was to lower my A1C so I don't have to take insulin and get my blood pressure in control. And now I feel like sabotaging everything. FAT WAS SO MUCH EASIER. But I want to live. And live well. God help me.

Complaining Frenzy

I think I am having a bad day. My incision hurts, my skin feels so tight, the area around the middle of my incision is just plan numb it feels weird and I still have some swelling--hardness under the skin. It feels like I'm wearing a very tight pair of pants and I need to take them off so I can breathe and be comfortable. So I take off my pants and....nothing. I realize it's my skin. Ugh.

I am so annoyed. And I'm annoyed that my expensive Anthropologie skirts and jeans don't fit. Ok, I know I should be happy that I've lost all that weight and instead of wearing a size 12, I can wear an 8. I KNOW that. I am happy dang it. But I'm also not. I can't wear pants coz I'm shaped like a cone cylinder and everything falls. And I feel fat for some reason. Fatter. FATTER in fact. And I don't know what looks good on me. And I feel like part of me has died. I feel...not me. I feel terrible.

For the past week, I've been awake all night mostly with racing thoughts and new projects threatening to have me obsess over them. I've even had the strangest compulsion to play my guitar. I haven't played my guitar in DECADES. I tried to play it and....my fingers wouldn't do what they used to do. Spaz. I am aghast.

So I am writing this because I need to vent. And I don't know why. I feel like crying but I don't know why...and even if I wanted to, I can't anyway because my mind disconnects. Am I going crazy???

Secrets revealed!

So I get a lot of compliments lately about looking younger and fresher and I've been asked again and again what my secret is. So I am going to list down what I've been doing for the past couple of years that have made a difference.

1. Sleep on your back.

     I found that sleeping on my back prevents my face from being scrunched up if I sleep on either side. If sleeping on your back is not an option, use Frownie and Winkies.

2. Drink at least 64 ounces of water.

      Drinking at least 8 glasses of water helps. I can tell when I didn't do that bec the day after my face is inflamed and swollen from water retention. It gets more and more obvious as I age so I try to drink 2 16oz bottles of water by noon and then I have the rest of the day to consume 2 or more easily.

3. Lose weight SLOWLY so skin retracts. I lost over 20 lbs over a 2 year span.

4. Now for a list of cosmetics I use to apply make-up, here's a list of products that I love:

MAC cosmetics: Fluidliner in Blacktrack. Iridescent Loose Powder in Golden Bronze (cheeks) and Silver Dusk (highlights). Cream Colour Base in "Pearl" (highlights), Eye Shadow in "Carbon" and various others.

Urban Decay Deluxe Eyeshadow in "Ransom" (Best violet colour)

Coverblend by Exuviance concealer in "Light". Doesn't crease. Lasts a long time.

Christian Dior "Universal Brow" brow pencil. Best product for eyebrows.

Bare Escentuals mineral foundation in "medium beige".

This is my favorite lipstick: Max Factor lipfinity No. 550. I think this has been discontinued.

I also use Model 21 lashes. You can buy them here. I never leave home without my lashes since I have so very little of my own. I use Duo eyelash glue. They are the best. There is a science into putting these on. I've been using false lashes since I was 17 so that's over 35 years of experimenting! I also like Ardell lashes which are available at most drugstores like Walgreens or at Ulta.

Blending all these products on your face requires some good quality brushes. I get mine here.  I also have some from Sephora. But the best place to get cosmetic brushes for proper application is here. Remember-- you must use the proper tools to get the maximum effects of your make-up.

I cannot stress enough how important skin care is and also the care and maintenance of TEETH. Yellow and malocclusion of teeth really ages you. So take the time for good dental care.

That's about all I can think of right now.

Why I Keep On Trying

So I finished digitizing nearly 2,000 slides...some of them ancient, from 1952. Most are faded and in varying degrees of degradation. I don't even know why I volunteered to take on this monstrous task. Perhaps there is a little part of me that craves some measure of appreciation though intellectually, I know that that will not happen because one thing that has been constant in over 20 years of dealing with Kurt's family is that if there is something I can do or excel at, there will be some way someone will turn things around so it becomes somehow a bad thing if not totally and deliberately ignored, sabotaged and dismissed. It's like the so-called crab mentality--when crabs are in an open container, no one needs to worry about any of them escaping because they grab at each other, pulling each other down until all are boiled alive. The sad part is that I never really craved any acceptance or appreciation in the beginning because I always thought I had them in spades. Yet somehow, as his little sisters grew, this crab-mentality phenomenon somehow was fostered and as others joined the family, they even added to the momentum. 

In the beginning, I felt so blessed and fortunate that I was now part of a wonderful family with little sisters I could spoil and love to boot! But as time passed, I felt more and more diminished--realizing that there was a short-sighted, non-constructive mentality that began to prevail. It happened slowly but surely and I was left haplessly being swallowed in it. I became ironically, the favorite subject of gossip and scorn that unified the core members of the family until we reached the point where no one can figure out how to fix things. It just crept up so slowly but the grasp ever so tight.

I feel very sad about this. And so I keep on trying even when it has become acutely apparent to me that things have escalated to the point where the chasm is now so wide and seemingly irreparable rendering my efforts frustratingly small because my options have narrowed. 

And yet, I've learned so much from these bitter experiences--lessons that I've tried to apply to my own family. Building a legacy of love and acceptance requires hard work and a whole lot of eating crow. When you think you can rest on your laurels and enjoy the fruits of your labours is really the time when you have to be at your most vigilant! As a mother, now with daughters-in-law and grandchildren, it's even more important to be self-aware. Family dynamics change all the time. That is the hope. It HAS to. So I find that I need to change also. In fact, it is IMPERATIVE that I change. And change is difficult. Falling in love with your daughters-in-law may happen in the beginning. But to maintain that love takes work. And I find that there is much for me to improve and I see it so clearly. Many times I fail so miserably. And yet I so appreciate that as I evaluate myself, there is always the promise of tomorrow as I pray to God that I can have another chance to redeem myself and get better. Even more importantly, I appreciate that the Spirit can and does call my attention to my follies and I can see them so clearly.... and as I receive personal revelation regarding how to improve, I find that I am always taken aback because what I am supposed to do to fix my mistake is ALWAYS the opposite of who I thought I was. In other words, why would I have to be given instructions to act differently if I were already acting accordingly, right? Thus, the required improvement is always, always a challenge because it is counter-intuitive-- it requires CHANGE. It requires a DIFFERENT you. So I am grateful for every day that I can change because many times, I am so sloooow. So I have to keep on praying that my family will be patient with me and forgive me.

I also find that when we resist these calls to change, our minds become dull and resistant. We become defensive because we don't want to change! And our family suffers. Discord ensues and in our ego-centric, defensive ways, we concentrate more on our own hurt and pain rather than becoming productive and increasing forethought or the ability to 'see far-off'. We begin to become short-sighted and resistant to change even if we know it's imperative to change. After all, the battle begins in your head because action has to come from an idea. And that is where the failure often happens--the inability to take action because we resist what is being impressed upon us. And as we get better at resisting, we advance to total rejection of that impression from the Spirit until we become addicted to bitterness. And drama.

So. Why do I keep on trying? Because I have to. Because I can see in my mind's eye the kind of family I want to have. Family is a dynamic, reverberating, intriguing and wonderful unit. It is where we can become better people. It is where we can receive more light and knowledge. It HAS to because it is the basic unit in God's kingdom. Our eternal lives depend on it. Generations depend on it. We are linked back and front and even sideways. I look forward to every new day when I can be better at it. And I hope I will have many, many days. I surely need them.

Antidotes: Just another poison?

Alice Faux: Yes, she is a quarter Asian and my 3rd grandchild.

I was at a Filipino restaurant getting some take-out lunch for Kurt when a nice, old man (probably close to my age...) smiled at me and for some reason, made a comment about the quantity of the food on his plate and how bad it was for his diabetes. I responded that perhaps he can eat just a little rice instead of the heap that Asians are wont to consume. He smiled again and said in his mellow Filipino accent that it was alright to binge because he "takes insulin". I nodded and said "that's great!". 

That's great?? I suddenly realized the scope of his statement. Oh go ahead. Take that poison with gusto...then ingest the antidote later. Does that make sense? I chuckled to myself and realized that I would have not caught that because that is exactly how I live my life---taking the poison because there's an antidote.

On another note, Alice, our third grandchild, was given a name and a blessing last Sunday. It was a grand day! Some of Catherine's family came---her dad, brother and sisters. They are such a wonderful family and I enjoyed their company a lot---especially on Sunday afternoon when I wasn't tired and sleepy and more alive than Saturday night.  I made just a simple meal of sloppy Joe's on whole wheat buns, my famous potato/beet salad, my pasta salad, chips and dip....some ice cream and red velvet cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory thanks to Stan Green! Yummy! Below is a photo of the event:

Hannah showing off her ninja skills. She and Tascha flew down from BYU.

Tascha and her winning smile!

I learned a lot during this weekend. I had been reading in D&C 93 about truth and light and the condescension of Christ. Many things were revealed to me about my relationship to the Saviour. So my heart was very tender. 

Towards the last verses of this section, there is a warning to parents on the importance of teaching their children truth. I take that charge very, very seriously even now when my children are grown. It is so very important that I live my life in such a way that inspires, elevates and enriches. The way to do that is to always love them. You would think that loving your children is easy because...well, they are flesh of your flesh. Feeling that you love them is easy but acting upon those feelings is another challenge. Feeling a whole lot of love doesn't necessarily expunge bad habits or bad behaviour. But love is a verb so how we love, behave and exemplify love is a choice that we make. And sometimes those choices can be difficult. But one thing that's reliable is the fact that when we act responsibly, the quality of our lives and relationships improve beyond our expectations. But love and work have to exist on the same breath.

Extending love is necessary to have joy in one's posterity and that includes loving their spouses. In my case that is an easy thing to do because my sons married amazing women who are easy to love. But then again....I can feel that love but I need to also act upon it. I need to follow the Spirit and be sensitive to their needs and feelings. It is not an easy thing to integrate into a new family. It takes work....and that work continues every single day...just like a marriage. If there is any fissure at all in the relationships it is my responsibility to use my mantle as "mother" to take the steps necessary to gather them close to me, love them, reassure them and accept them---all the time making sure that they KNOW it. Sometimes those steps are difficult and seemingly beyond my capability. But it is amazing how all I have to do is desire it, want it and then attempt to take that very first step...and then God does the rest. It is as if the windows of heaven just open and I become that person who can do it even when I didn't think I could. There is great power there. What I cannot understand is how any mother can allow dysfunction to grow especially when she is already cognizant of the cause. Sometimes we latch on to excuses, blaming this and that and finding fault when the real solution is to change ourselves.  And sometimes we let fear or the lack of faith take over and we concentrate on our own hurt and then build a wall around us ---a sort of hardening of our hearts like the uncircumcised heart mentioned in the scriptures. What's worse is when we feel tenderness but harden our hearts anyway because we get too caught up with our own pain not realizing that the release from that pain or hurt is to give in to that Spirit that tugs at your heart with tenderness. In time, we become too calloused to take any steps and then suddenly we realize that we've missed out on so much joy.

I learned this from experience and I don't ever want to have so much pride that I become unwilling or scared to do what is right and to bridge the gap. I can see me being that way and that scares me. I just have to be vigilant like the scriptures beckon us to be in those passages in section 93.

We also had the great occasion to visit my mother, my sister and my aunts in SoCal. Amazing! I just LOVE my aunts. They are so so amazing. And my mother still looks fabulous at 79! My Aunt Edith is 81 and moves and looks decades younger. So does my Aunt Nieva who is still gorgeous, fun and relatable at 75. You can just feel their intelligence in the room and I had such a great time with them. I love it that they don't talk bad about other family members or other people like my experience with my husband's family. So it's always positive and enriching to be with them and I went home happy and excited to plan another time when we can see them as soon as possible.

Mama, Aunti Edith, Auntie Nieva, and me.

I once mentioned that I usually take a xanax whenever we embarked on a visit to my husband's family. And that incident at the restaurant gave me pause about that fact. I guess that there are things that just are and so we need an antidote...just like my diabetes. It will always lurk in my body and I will always have to take some medication to calm the sugar that sticks to my red blood cells and in turn creates a toxic environment in my body. Diabetes destroys vital organs and wreaks havoc in our system. So I am happy that there is an antidote. And I am also grateful that I know how to put diabetes in a place where it can't cause much damage. Sometimes, that's all you can do.

Capping the Year 2010: We Are family!!

We had so much fun making this video! Thanks to Jordan who organized it and enthused everyone to join in. I've been wanting to do this for YEARS and he finally got it initiated. Because blogspot limits the size of the video file, the movie quality is much compromised. But I am sending the DVDs to friends and family.

I love that our family is close and enjoy each other's company. My sons married wonderful choice women who make life easy and joyful for me---as their mom-in-law. I so enjoy them and feel like they are true family. Personally, I've been so blessed. That's indubitable and my sons are amazing men who treat their wives with tenderness and thought.

My wonderful daughters are also simply amazing. They are who I want to be when I grow up. The young men who will marry them better have a good idea that they are the catch of the century. They are elegant thinkers and do much good work. They are kind, loving and tender. And as if being highly intelligent and kind weren't enough, they are both gorgeous creatures. 

So--enjoy this little piece. I had the best time editing the many videos we took. I thought it would be a feat to synch them but it was easy as pie. Maybe it's because I was just having the time of my time!

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Adventures in Macaronnage

Of course I have to make like I'm some kind of snot. I'm thinking in French!

J'ai toujours vu que pour réussir dans le monde, il fallait avoir l'air fou et être sage.

I've been enthralled since I had Parisian macarons at the historic Oscar's at the Waldorf Hotel. I've searched for recipes even when I didn't know what they were even called. I happened to find these delectable confections again while walking around mid-town Manhattan, San Francisco and yeah---even Ala Moana Mall in Honolulu! The unfortunate part is that I didn't even make the connection that these lovely cookies were French and so I missed out on macaron splurges whilst traipsing around Paris! So this holiday season, I decided that I must try and perfect making these lovely concoctions. 

I quickly discovered that there are a host of things that could go wrong in achieving macaron perfection. Humidity is but one. But most of all, the actual macaronnage---the art of mixing the egg whites with the almond flour and sugar until that perfect juncture--that point when the planets and moons align---that perfect juxtaposition of  enough whipped air, egg white consistency and magical balance of all things good is reached. One more fold of the spatula and the macarons fail. One less whip and you end up with a sorry mess in the oven. Or try making the batter on a humid, rainy day...you get moosh. Just a dozen things can go wrong. But I am undaunted. Below is a photo of what they should look like:

So, I decided that on my maiden voyage into this unknown territory, I should start with gusto and make chocolate macarons with hazelnut filling.

I started out with 3 egg whites, adding 5 tbs of super fine granulated sugar.

I just whipped the darn thing until it forms a beak....like a bird's beak or bec d'oiseau in French.

Meanwhile, prior to even messing with the egg whites, I've already processed some skinless, blanched almonds on my Cuisinart to a fine meal and then did it again with confectioner's sugar and Dutched-processed chocolate to blend all dry ingredients together.

Then, with a rubber spatula, I began the task of macaronnage--blending the egg whites with the dry ingredients until it reached that peak. Or what I thought was the right moment. Below is the point where I am about to blend dry ingredients with the egg white batter.

It's a good idea to prepare your bag and tip beforehand and place them in a tall glass or pitcher making sure that you clip the end so the batter does not leak out of the tip.

Then you are ready to pipe the batter onto prepared cookie sheets. I had already lined them with parchment paper and even made 1 inch circles so I can pipe them neatly. Remember to turn the paper upside down so you don't pipe the batter onto the pencil marks. Note that my piping skills were BAD considering I used to decorate cakes! The thing is, I did not expect the batter to be so runny....that took me by surprise. So my circles were not even....or perfectly round.

I let these puppies 'dry' for about 30 minutes before I popped them in 350 degree oven, crossed my fingers and hoped I would have my beginner's luck. Hahahaha!! Not to be!

To my horror, 6 minutes into baking, my macarons grew enormous feet!! OK. Macarons are supposed to have the famous 'feet' or 'pied' that makes them...well, macarons. I had skirts. Wah wah wah!!

Here they are after 15 minutes of baking. Absolute disaster! But I was undeterred. I sighed, kept my head up and proceeded to fill them with hazelnut spread (Nutella). THEY WERE DELICIOUS!! And the consistency was perfect albeit the appearance disastrous. Bet you wish you could taste this: It was heavenly!

Not to be foiled by my virginal attempt, I proceeded to clean up all my equipment to start another batch. Crazy?? Nah....determined. So this time, I was not going to fail. So I went back to the web to search for troubleshooting information, pondered a bit, reviewed what I had done and determined to cure them.

Next: My second attempt: Raspberry lemon macarons.

I had a hunch that the problem was with my spankin' brand new Jennair convection ovens. Happily, the new Jennair ovens took less space so I had a cabinet guy put in a new drawer under the pair. Awesome

I had to make conversions because convection ovens are happily more efficient than regular ovens. I adjusted the temperature to 318 degrees F for good measure and because 318 just sounded better than 320 or 315. (Even if the awesome computer in the oven can make the proper conversions from convection to regular ovens...)

Oh and while I'm mentioning ovens I might as well also mention that my next project will be to get an induction cooktop that Wolf or Thermador make. Doing so might wake the gourmet cook in me. After all, I did take many cooking classes in college!

So back to the macarons. I decided to go girl power and use my food colour gels and go for neon pink macarons. Here they are all ready to 'dry'.

This time, I made the following adjustments: Longer drying time. I let them sit for at least an hour. Lower oven temperature. Less macaronnage time. Added 3 minutes to bake time. And I did not forget to tap the sheets on the granite countertop to avoid air bubbles. After 6 minutes in the oven, here's what I saw:

Macarons in pink splendour with PERFECT FEET!! Ahhh la la. Tres magnifique! C'est bon! I quickly danced the Snoopy dance. Perfection feels so good. Here they are in all their glory! And they popped out of the parchment paper with nary a problem.

And the finished product---VOILA! Raspberry macarons with lemon curd filling. This has quickly become everybody's favorite flavour.

Next: Getting more confident.

I am getting almost a bit cocky now that I've made a few more batches and they've all turned out ok. By OK, I mean that they have good pied (feet) and excellent consistency...meaning not too crunchy but chewy with a soft middle. Delectable. What I am still working on: shiny tops and better handling of the piping bag so my macarons are all the SAME SIZE. I may need a different size tip. I'll have to experiment on that.

Above are my pandannus flavoured macarons rising with feet beautifully. I filled these with white chocolate ganache. And here they are below all paired and waiting to be filled.

So far, I've made chocolate macarons with hazelnut filling, pink raspberry ones with lemon curd filling, lavander coloured coconut macarons which turned light brown in the oven (I will have to lower baking temperature for purple to retain their colours...) filled with dulce de leche (YUM), green pandannus (very fragrant leaves made into herbal tea in East Asia..) with white chocolate ganache and finally, I tried a different food colour (powdered) and did another batch of violet macarons flavoured with orange essence and filled with citrus (orange) white chocolate ganache. I've ordered some passion fruit and mango essense/oil flavourings and I'm venturing into making exotic flavours. I am only going to get better and soon I will have mastered the making of Parisian macarons. (I only hope that crazy person from Idaho who likes to 'put one over me' does not try to make these just for that reason. It's just....so incredibly sophomoric. But I'm sure she wouldn't even know the meaning of that word. But I am flattered that she makes me THE ONE to set her sights on bettering. That makes me superior. HAHAHA!!)

Padannus flavoured macarons filled with white chocolate ganache

Orange flavoured macarons with orange-white chocolate ganache.

This might solve Kurt's wallet problem

Cracks Me Up Everytime!

Closing Escrow

 

Yesterday, December 3 was a wonderful exciting day for Leland and Catherine. We signed documents and closed escrow on their first house. They are SO excited. Kurt signed for them as their attorney in fact since they were both still at BYU finishing up with  law school finals.Leland will be working for the Faux Law Group. YAY! The best part is that Lucy, Jack and Alice will live just 10 minutes away from their Papi and Mimi and we can see them anytime. We are excited!  Their house is a modest three bedroom home but located on a quiet cul-de-sac with tall trees and close to everything good. Above is a snap of us at the escrow office signing the last documents. It took us an hour and a half to sign the large stack of docs.

In other news, Christmas is around the corner and so I took four days to decorate our revolving tree now laden with ornaments of all shapes and kinds. The young man who cleans the office put up our Christmas lights yesterday while we were at the escrow office and when we arrived home, we were greeted by MANY MANY lights strung all around the house, trees, shrubs and lawn. Holy cow! We now have the most ridiculously, Christmas lit house in the neighbourhood. Geeezz.... I am almost embarrassed. But oh well.

I am not done decorating and it will take me another couple of days to finish up. But I am getting seriously stressed out bec there are not enough days until Christmas arrives.

So dash I must now.

Thanksgiving 2010

I thought I would post some pictures from Thanksgiving Day. Hannah and Tascha were fantastic in the kitchen and made it so easy. Hannah made the turkey a la Martha Stewart with Ginger and Riesling wine. She also made the best pumpkin pies from scratch. YUMMY. She also helped make flan. Tascha made the dressing from corn bread with dried cranberries. It was hands down the best stuffing we all had EVER had.

Jordan and Rose were great company and helped us polish off the rest of the meal. My mother and step-father also came all the way from San Diego. We missed Leland and Catherine and most especially the little wee ones but we will see them very soon as they prepare to close escrow on their new home. We are SO excited for them.

Below are some photos.

Ginger and Riesling Roast Turkey--and the people who made it possible...

Rose and Jordan enjoying the meal.

Natascha checks out her new Droid phone.

Hannah relaxes after two days of cooking!

Dishing and Gossip

 

I went to get my hair done the week before Thanksgiving. No, the above picture is not the result of that event. I actually took this picture 2 days before when my hair was all greasy and eeky. So I wore a wig. That is me in my wig. And I do look like I have dimples... wait, no, those are creases...old age creeping in. Bah Humbug! But I do want to dish on the gossip that ensued at the hairdresser's salon. Because I can.

Anyway, today I am feeling rather silly.  My hair colourist shares her lovely space with another hairdresser who specializes in hair weaving. She is probably the most important hair weaver in Las Vegas. Her clients range from mommies to strippers. But she does a lot of celebrities too and gets called upon especially during photo shoots. On the wall are pictures of glossy Las Vegas magazines with her work on display on celebrities' heads---Christina Ricci, Gwynneth Paltrow, Lindsay Lohan... I asked who the nicest celebrity was. Her response: Girl the question you should ask is who is the nastiest! So, I get to dish.

Nastiest celebrity: Jennifer Lopez. Everything is arranged via one of her personal assistants. She was given very specific instructions before she was allowed to touch J-Lo's hair. Most important rule: You are not allowed to address Ms. Lopez. Rule #2: You are not allowed to look at Ms. Lopez. Rule #3: If you must comment or ask a question, you must address the assistant who will be in her company and the assistant will ask Ms. Lopez for a response who will only address the response to the assistant who will then communicate the response to hairweaver. 

Next nasty celebrity: Demi Moore. Her 'husband' Ashton Kutcher is the smelliest person she has ever encountered. Hahaha!! I thought that was funny. She also said that Arnold Schwartzenegger and his wife Maria Shriver and their three children are the nicest people. Oh and about Paris Hilton-- she called to arrange for hair extensions. She knew the product/colour numbers and other details that was needed to arrange the session. When said hairdresser began to discuss her costs, Paris said "Oh, I was just thinking that you would just do it and I'll tell my friends that you did it." So she wanted the hairdresser to foot the bill for the extensions and do the job for free. Of course, Paris did not get her way and was told to find another sucker who will do the deed for free.

That's about all I can remember. Or care to.

So while in my husband's family, it's normal for some family members to gossip about other members of the family, I can kinda understand the thrill in dishing and finding dirt in other people. It can be exhilarating to make another person look bad. It's addictive behaviour and like all addictions, it's DESTRUCTIVE especially within a family because it's personal. And malicious. In our own family, it is forbidden to complain or talk about another family member behind their back. If there is a problem, we encourage affected parties to deal with the issues by themselves...without involving others...and to do it immediately or as it happens so festering does not initiate.

Anyway, I thought all this was interesting in a most superficial way. And since I'm feeling shallow today, I decided to record my experience at the hair salon. I guess dishing about celebrities is just idle sport with no redeeming qualities other than being silly.

I just need a spa day now. Ciao! 

Male Freak-out Syndrome

I married my best friend. And I am convinced it is the only way to go because we have a wonderful family and home life. And it is wonderful to spend days and eternity with your best friend. It was an easy decision for me because I knew marrying my best friend came with a long list of advantages. But for men, there are more steps involved.

Here now, young men, are the steps that my husband took to complete the task of marrying the girl of his dreams-- (I am assuming that you already have a girl who is your best friend.)

1. Spend a lot of time together because it's just fun.
2. Hold hands, cuddle, kiss.
3. Spend a lot of time together.
4. Freak out because you realize you're not ready for a relationship and it's going too fast.
5. Ask why things can't just remain the same and propose that you still hang out without actually 'dating'.
6. Tell your friends that you are not really dating but just hanging out.
7. Decide that you will pull back and find other friends.
8. Realize that you are really missing her.
9. Spend more time together because it's just fun.
10. Freak out again. This time, lie and tell her that you can't get too serious because there's a girl in your hometown you want to check out first.
11. Punch yourself in the head because you don't know why you did #10.
12. See if she'll be willing to spend more time with you but not really date.
14. Spend more time together because it's just fun.
15. Freak out again because it's going too fast and now she really wants a commitment. Lie and tell her you need to find a job first and save enough money to get married.
16. Ask if you can just hang out but not date.
17. Spend more time together because it's just fun.
18. Freak out again because she is talking about marriage.
19. Find a get away car...i.e., tell her that you want to check out other colleges or go on a study abroad program.
20. If you're really dumb, you'd stop here and lose her. Then someone else gets to marry the girl of your dreams and your best friend.
21. If you skipped #20, then you beg her to take you back.
22. You take stock and leap that leap of faith because now you know you can't stand the thought of losing her.
23. Propose marriage and find a ring.
24. Freak out again and pretend that you forgot your parent's phone number and tell her you need time to break the news to your parents.
25. She dials the number for you and you break the news.
26. You finally have to set a wedding date.
27. Spend more time together because it's fun.
28. You freak out the night before your wedding and that freak-out moment manifests itself by your forgetting the ring half-way to the temple.
29. You finally get married and you are the happiest man in the world.
30. Spend more time together because it's just fun.

And for the rest of your life every day becomes a decision to love her more. You learn to communicate your fears now and freak-out times become few and far in between. You've married your best friend and you couldn't be happier.

Freak out events are really just those times when fear takes the place of faith. Every relationship has to progress and progress requires some measure of irritant or 'catalyst' to move forward. Otherwise, the relationship becomes stale. Those freak-out events are really doors that open in front of you and you don't know what's inside but you know you have to go in and find out. And that's scary. It will take faith to take that leap. 

Mathematical problems always have givens. Take stock of those givens--those things you already know because it will be those givens that will give you the courage to overcome fear.

Freak-out events are essential to the growth of your relationship because it provides opportunities to exercise the skills of crucial communicating. This is the skill you will need throughout your life together...when forces within and outside bring some trepidation and thus require problem-solving skills-- skills that need a best friend's hand.

Now back to my homework.

Submitting Gracefully

 

On my fifth night, my doctor came to discharge me from the hospital. Prior to my hospital stay, I went to the ER about severe flank pains. They told me my blood sugar level was in the 400s, my blood pressure was 232/128 and then the doctor ordered the nurse to administer Dilaudid intravenously. Immediately, I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest and I could not breathe. I could not see straight. Instantly, I felt terrible. I could hear the two nurses discussing how I may have been given too much. I began to throw up. I tried to tell them I could not breathe. They gave me a shot of insulin. Shortly thereafter, they told me I could leave. I began to feel worse and worse and by the third day, I was back to the ER. I waited 5 1/2 hours in horrible pain, vertigo and nausea. I called my doctor who called another doctor who then arranged for me to be transferred to another hospital since there were no beds where I was. Paramedics came, put in an IV and drove me to that hospital where I was now sitting up in bed listening to my doctor's discharge instructions.

All I could hear was "insulin shots". I was stunned. Half an hour later, a nurse comes in to teach me how to give myself 20 units of Lantus, a basal insulin. I had no time to be terrified or compose myself. I just had to learn it in 10 minutes. Thus began my new life as a diabetic.

Within 10 days, my doctor took me off my insulin. I now take 500mg of metformin twice a day. My numbers are good. She even had to adjust my blood pressure medications to a lower dose. I've began to change my eating habits.

I have to admit that when the doctor gave me the news, a part of me felt terror, anger and guilt all at the same time. And I willingly succumbed to those feelings. I could hear voices in my head. This particular voice told me that these feelings are normal and that I should give in to them. So I did. I cried on the way home.

But here's something I also felt that I didn't tell anyone until weeks later: I also felt an inexplicable joy that didn't seem to be congruent to what was happening to me. Words of scripture passed through my head--words that I've taught my seminary students to memorize just last year. "...for the natural man is an enemy to God...until...(he) putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the Atonement of Christ the Lord and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him even as a child doth submit to his father..." I felt the love of my Heavenly Father so deeply. I knew that this 'challenge' was a manifestation of his love for me. For weeks I pondered these thoughts as I learned to manage my disorder.

We all know that diabetes is a chronic disorder of the physical body and we all know that it is a type of auto-immune disease. We also know that what happens inside the body when diabetes is present is 'abnormal'. I started thinking---everybody assumes that normal is the absence of diabetes. What if diabetes is a 'normal'? What if it is actually a state of normalcy that allows one to experience things that others can't? I mean, what if those experiences are so unique that it allows one to see the world in a way that is more beautiful, more meaningful and more profound? What if this 'anomaly' has secret advantages that no one has ever considered before? And am I smart enough to use these filters so I can 'see' and submit to a paradigm shift?

I look at food in a different way now. Sure I have a habit of blessing my food before I eat it. But now I look at food and I really ask God to convert it into chemicals that will not harm my body-- to turn it into salve and nutrients that will enhance my well-being. 

Diabetes is saving my life. It is an opportunity to refine my habits and gives me clear directions on how to manage my vital signs. What I do now is really what everybody should be doing...except I get to have a 'manual' with clear and manageable cause and effects. Others are not so lucky. The freedoms they enjoy can also enable their wanton and carefree stance and magnify their arrogance about life itself.

I once told my daughter's special young man who came home sick and laden with a serious physical disorder that he was blessed by God to have this disease. At that time he told me that he couldn't see how it could be an advantage. I told him that as time unfolds he will be able to see and do things that others can't if he just shifts paradigms and opens his new eyes. I told him to be vigilant so he can see how God unfolds his plans for him because his perceived weakness is going to be his strength.  He is doing exactly that.

Little did I know that months later, I would experience for myself what those words really meant.

And I am so grateful.