She's Not Just a Another Pretty Face

(For Liisa)

When you meet Liisa Frei the first thing that hits you is that she's not just pretty face. She's a mother of six. She's an amazing grandmother to three. She's a volunteer. She's a Realtor and businesswoman. She's an Artist. She's a Boston Marathon finisher. She' a type of woman that you would classify as STRONG.

But even strong people are susceptible to nature. On Sept. 10th an unusually strong rain storm caused the 93 year old Santa Clara dike to breach and spew mud and water through out the community below. In  path of the dike's water ramapage was Liisa's family business Dutchman Market a small convince store. In a matter of minutes red clay like mud and water destroyed the whole interior of the building.

The last few years have not been the best years ever for the Frei's family. Liisa's husband battled colon cancer and they just recently they lost their dream home. Liisa's attitude has always been Let's push on through it. Cause she' the type of person to open up her house to her gymnastic coach during the last year of his life when he had nobody else to turn to.Or when her nephews were having serious issues with school she allowed them to live with them till they were able to get things figured out.

Liisa is the type of woman that you want on your committees, your son's softball team and most importantly you want her to be your friend. Cause even with all of the craziness that comes with her life she's the type that will take a few minutes to see how you are doing. She's the one you want on your committees cause to her nothing is impossible. If its something that benefits the community she is there in full force smile on hand.

After assessing the damage of her store this is what she posted on facebook:

"Thanks to all of you who helped shovel mud...and all of you who called with offers of help and support... we were literally flooded twice today once with mud and water once with loving hearts and hands...The Frei family loves you all!" 

Every status and update of this flooding she's always grateful to thank everyone and focusing on the positive even when ripping the down walls and hauling out damaged and ruined inventory each morning since the flood has been focused on thanking those who have helped or just stopped by or sent money.

Why should you care?

Because sometimes great people need help. Sometimes they need random strangers to help them to continue to provided kindness in the world. If you are in the Santa Clara area stop by. Shovel mud. Bring food. Or a generator. If you aren't close and you got some extra quarters rolling around please donate at Dutchman's fund. This account is through Paypal you can even claim it on your taxes!

Here's some pictures

The water and mud

Tables ruined 

The water was so powerful it blew the doors off.

During the flood

Please help. Even if all you can do is send positive thoughts and prayers every little bit helps. 

Here I Go Again

Let's talk about FEELINGS. 

Mainly about how I want to eat all of them. 

Has this ever happened to you? Where somebody starts screaming at you, or you are feeling sad and bored and instead of going okay lets DO something you open the fridge you raise your hands and go LET'S EAT ALL THE FEELINGS! 

No? Is it just me? 

How do you change the sudden feeling of hunger to something more? Cause I just realized that I'm tired of spending all my money on food to make me happy. I'm tired of sitting in my house with the blinds drawn and I'm tired of looking at myself and going well with this stomach I could take some amazing pregnancy shots. You know the type. Where you thrust your stomach out as far as it can go and you do the awkward hand framing moment. I'd take a picture and show you but I'm afraid that you could never get that image out of your head and one day when we are at the grocery store awkwardly picking melons our eyes would meet and we would have to hurry and turn away. 

So just when I was ready to browse maternity pants online (Jeans just have no give! Joey from Friends) I realized maybe the food baby that I'm creating is the tumor of lies, anger, resentment, frustration, lies, and boredom that I've been telling my body that I'm okay with. So there is going to be a change a brewing. I watched a video on a lumpectomy the other day in staff meeting (while it was really disgusting and oddly entertaining at the same time) I thought if I was a surgeon would I ignore all this huge tumor or would I do something to save the patient? 

I decided to save the patient. 

More tomorrow.   

Hold On

I can honestly say that this is not the best year of my life at this moment.( This is not a boo-hoo honey child kind of post btw.) I read once that the moment that when you can't look at yourself in the eye anymore it is time for you to change something. I hate change. I always joke that I'm two steps away from being on hoarders. I hold on to things. I hold on to objects longer than I should because someone I treasure gave it to me. I hold on to letters. I  hold on to tee shirts. I hold on to memories. I hold on to people longer than I should. I hold on okay. I'm like freaking Wilson Philips. I will hold on for one more day.

Because I hold on too much to the past that I forget to look forward to the future and find myself in a giant rut of sameness. I like routine but when you wake up and your life is Groundhogs Day one must make a decision. Do you accept the sameness, the comfort of the known area or do you jump off on the boat and set course to the island of uncertainty?

Yet when I look at the moments that have changed my life for the better (AKA USU, Running races, and starting this blog) have come out of pure moments of spontaneous decisions. No time for pro and cons list no moments to sit and go is this good for me? I said yes and let the consequences follow.

I've been dealing with this issue for the last three years. Do I change my life? Is there room for another moment of spontaneous decisions?  If so where and what do I do?  I wish I could turn my life over to all those well meaning people who say this is what you need to do with yourself and say here's your chance here's three months for you to make all the changes perfect the flaws that you see within me. Go ahead. I'll sit right here.

Sad thing is though I'm not in a Zac Efron movie. I will not be 17 Again. Nor do I really want to be. Here's what I'm proposing to do. I had an a amazing AH-HA moment.  One of those moments that makes you sit up, the hairs on your arms tingling with a little bit and you sit up and go okay!  I learned from the Oprah preacher from her life class about honesty. Her cohost was Martha Beck who talked about being honest with ourselves. Apparently our bodies don't like to hold on to secrets and lies. It seems our brains get occupied on these thoughts and bury them deep with in us. So the secrets lodge themselves in us the lies sprout little fat cells and become the cancer of self doubt attacking all the positive thoughts, the happiness and soon the conversation that we have within us gets muted.


After this whoo whoo aha moment I realized that I had to focus on three areas in which would allow me to have a real conversation with myself they are 1. The Physical  2. The Spiritual 3. The Mental. I'm not going to publish what those individual goals are. but those are the areas I'm changing.

Apparently I'm having a Good Bye to Sandra Dee moment.

Sunshine on my Shoulders

You know you are going to have a good morning when you wake up and you find yourself belting "SUNSHINE! ON MY SHOULDERS MAKE ME HAPPY!" cause I figure that's what every body in my apartment complex wants to hear at 5:15 in the morning. Why am I so full of song this morning? I'm not sure. I blame the Suave peppermint shampoo. I'm pretending that I live in London and hell. Cause it's so smoggy and hot. What can I say? I've been very bored.

Last night was an epic fail on being a productive human being. Since I'm TV free I don't watch all the fancy TV shows (In Color!) but once in a grey moon when I'm doing laundry suddenly I get sucked into some wonderfully trashy reality show. Last night's down fall was "Project Runway".

Project Runway and I go way back to my Sophomore year in college when Bravo used to do  these all day marathons on Friday nights. Now I wish I could say that my Friday nights were full of crazy adventures (most were) however some nights I just wanted to wear my fat pants eat a pint of ice cream and get in bed. I loved it. Loved the dramatic contestants who would design these truly outrageous outfits and be all "No you notice me! I'm an artist!" I found myself saying make it work to my roommates and co workers. The years went by and I lost the free cable and found myself in the cold dark world of being a grown up.

So last night as I was doing the laundry at my grandparent's house after spending all day lounging at the pool I turned on tele-vision and there to my wonder and horror was "Project Runaway." Worse still it was a marathon. Oh goodness there went my day. I had started off with good intentions full of plans to clean and organize and work on creating world peace. Yet instead I spent 4 hours watching crazy artist freak out when they had to design clothes for real people.

Oh reality TV how I have a special place in my heart for you. So now as I prepare myself for work I hear Tim Gunn in the back of my head going "Make it Work." Make me work indeed Mr Gunn.

I Like Sunrises.

Wee. This month has not been as exciting as I had planned. When you graduate from school August no longer has any appeal. Its just another hot nasty smoke filled month to get through till fall comes and we can all get back in our fat pants and blame it on the holidays. Or perhaps this is just me? 

I need the running inspiration fairy to come visit me. Thanks to the broke diet I've been eating a lot better than I have the last few months. Ice cream and I broke up. We are still friends but the magic in our relationship has well withered. We no longer have to be together all the time. In fact I don't even have any in my freezer and I haven't had any in there for quite a while. Who knew we would end this way? I thought I would just end up like Lenoard (from the Big Band Theory) and become lactose intolerant. 

Well that's my update. 

Hope that makes you feel better about yourself. If not I'm sorry but its really smokey, hot and I'm bored realizing that my life has become really boring. So if you want to come and cause some big dramatic moment in my life I'd be ever so grateful. 

Really. 

I mean it. 

Dance With Somebody

Dear Blake, 

Today you were spotted with the top down on your MINI convertible around 5:30 pm singing "I Want To Dance With Somebody" at the top of your lungs. Though our sources cannot confirm there may have been shoulder thrusting and finger snapping. May we remind you that this is in violation of the convertible code. Please detest this behavior immediately. Last week you were spotted listening to "Like a Virgin" if this behavior continues serious consequences  may occur, such as public mocking, honking or worse wolf whistles. 

Sincerely, 

The Concerned Convertible Association. 

 

Wincing The Night Away

The descent into hell continues...

When I was in the 8th grade I asked my sister and mother how does one "dance" at a dance. For my frame of reference was early Madonna videos and old MGM musicals and somehow deep inside I knew that framing my face or "vouging" or attempting a reverse foxtrot waltz wasn't exactly what was suppose to happen at a dance. My sister told me bluntly "With your sense of rhythm the best you can do is hold on the shoulders and push the poor girl around the gym till the song is over." My mom being a little bit more revealing said there are four dances every man should do 1. The Electric slide. 2. Boot Scooting Boogey 3. Heaven forbid the Macarena and lastly though its fallen out of favor 4. The Hustle. She and my sister promptly gave me a quick tutorial in each of those dances. That was the extend of my dancing education. From there I've learned the running man and the sprinkler. What can I say? I'm multi- talented. 

So while Karisa and I were traveling around the room we began to observe other dance styles. After a terrible swing dance attempt we both looked at each other with the look of shared understanding. Each of us in some point of our awkward dancing careers had that person who had fallen for the Big Band swing dance craze and taken one lesson and thought they could teach the world to swing! Sadly every time someone either ended up on the floor or with a black eye a mark that some dances are best for Dancing With the Stars or as Karisa put it "What happened in 1944 should stay in 1944".  

As the hour winded down Karisa leaned in and said "Just wait till the lights come on there is a reason why they say wait till the lights come on before you get their number".  I thought how could this be? All those who  were swaying awkwardly making bad conversation (so how are you? What do think of this Dance? Here's my name stalk me maybe?) I thought maybe someone would meet their eternal companion giving the bishop a point on his scoreboard of marriages during his tenure. You laugh but in the last three wards I've been in hidden in each of their offices lies a scoreboard of winners and losers. Every single time they get one married off they get a bonus or something I swear. 

Suddenly right at 12 the lights came on and there was a huge gasp! from the whole group the awkward swayers suddenly saw each other in the harsh glare of institutional lighting and the whole here's my number call me maybe moment changes to a the very polite but firm "thanks SO much but I have to be going" and they run back to their various posses to dissect the evening and bemoan the state of being singleness in the car till the various drivers push them out of the car with a sympathetic better luck next time or a walk it off walk it off. 

Right after the lights came on they played Fun. We are Young which of course I had to comment on No early Madonna but a song about getting high in the bathroom is the perfect closer song? Seriously? Bad move DJ bad move! What's next promiscuous sex in the parking lot? However they cut the song very abruptly and that last bit of my comment soared through that cavernous cultural hall and I got the dirty Mormon look. The same look you get when you mention feminist, gay and lesbian, or choosing not to have children in Sunday school. To save me from melting deeper into the gym floor a very awkward closing prayer was said and Karisa  and I sweaty and giggly  from dancing dropped the top off of Bertie and sailed off onto the interstate. 

As I looked over I was so grateful to have a friend so sympathetic to my awkward dancing, my sarcastic wittiness, and I felt that tightness in my chest let go. Though it had taken some time I had found a moment to make peace with all the awkwardness, the wall hugging, the feeling of pure torture of my previous high school dances melt away and realized that dances can be fun when you have the right person beside you. 

The other glorious thought was that I was in California and I would never see any of these people again but could mock them forever in my memory.