Our engagement photo adventure

Originally, I thought Ibrahim and I would have dance engagement photos, because it best represents who we are as a couple. However, as I looked for wedding photographers, I found work done in Sedona and at the Grand Canyon. The images were dramatic and I fell in love with many of them. Since our wedding would be local (and part of me longed for a destination wedding), I decided to do some destination engagement photos and chose Horseshoe Bend (part of the Grand Canyon) as the location. I also wanted to use the opportunity to see northern Arizona and cross Sedona and Antelope Canyon off my bucket list.

In terms of my image for the photos, I already knew what I wanted. It took me weeks to find the dress I envisioned, and then several more weeks to find shoes, jewelry, and to help Ibrahim find a complimentary outfit. I arranged for my hair and makeup to be done professionally so that I wouldn't have to worry about it. At the last minute, I bought a second dress because Ibrahim wanted two outfits and thought a change in color would give a nice variety. It turned out to be a good idea.  

After weeks of planning and probably too much spending on my part, we drove north last weekend. Honestly, I didn't know if things would come together. I put a lot of time, money, and energy into this experience (because "awesome" doesn't just happen) and I wanted our photos to be really good. I feared they would turn out mediocre and that the trip in general would be a disappointment. I was worried that I went too far, and that I was chasing images of magazine quality that just weren't going to happen with our resources. I also felt guilty...like I was dragging Ibrahim through some kind of circus for my own selfish desires. But we were on our way and there was nothing else we could do now.

The morning of the shoot was calm and the afternoon was hectic (for me). Our schedule was as follows:

8:00 am Antelope Canyon tour

10:00 Amy starts getting ready/Ibrahim gets breakfast

12:00 Amy goes to hair appointment

1:00 Amy and Ibrahim look for flowers, don't find any, and drive back to the house so Amy can continue getting ready

2:00 Amy has makeup appointment at the house/Ibrahim gets ready

4:30 Amy and Ibrahim meet photographers

The only thing that didn't go well was my right eye, which watered the entire time the makeup artist worked on my face and throughout the photo shoot. So for four hours. I was worried my foundation would be blotchy and black mascara streaks would be  running down my face. Our photographers reassured me that the issue didn't show up on camera, and if it did, they would edit it.

The photo shoot itself was a lot of fun. I wish I could have my picture taken all the time! The sunset at Horseshoe Bend was beautiful; the colors of the canyon changed from orange to red to purple and blue. It's really no surprise that there are so many photos taken there. Our photographers were great, fun people as well. We all laughed a lot. They told us we did an awesome job and some of the shots they got were "really good." I wanted to believe them, but I was (and am) still a little skeptical. Ibrahim and I also did our clothing change right there at the canyon, out in the open in front of the tourists. But I later realized that most of the tourists were Asian or European, and they didn't care about people changing. The whole thing felt like an adventure, and I walked away feeling really glad we did it. Also, after seeing Sedona and Page, I was glad we chose Tucson as our wedding location. Sedona was beautiful, but it wasn't home. 

Now, I'm excitedly and nervously waiting for the email that our "sneak peak" is available. They choose about 7-8 photos to show you and then the rest come later. I'm hoping my face, hair, dress, our postures, and everything look ok. I'm really nervous, but also dying from suspense.

Dancing with Our Stars performance

My long overdue post is finally here. I had three performances and a competition in May and it was a whirlwind of dancing. But it was a lot of fun, too. I felt like I crossed off some big personal goals of mine. Ibrahim and I performed our Iko Iko samba-quickstep routine for two Dancing with the Stars charity events and our studio's showcase. I really enjoy samba, so I was glad to do it.

My favorite performance by far was the Dancing with Our Stars event put on by the Diaper Bank of Southern Arizona. That was the one where we had to raise $2000 to perform. It all came together in a crazy, hectic way, but it did come together and it was awesome. I felt incredibly fulfilled performing in front of a few hundred people, and the physicians with whom I work were among them. Our performance was our best of that dance - technique maybe wasn't top notch, but we didn't mess up choreography or trip. People came up to us afterward (some we knew and some we didn't) and said we did a great job. I felt like my doctors looked at me in a different light and saw the Amy I wanted them to see - the real version of myself. It was a dream.

Here is the link to the show:  https://youtu.be/sEx2Rj1UFxc

Turning 30

Fair warning: a short reflection on my twenties turned into an essay - so if you read it, you might want to grab a coffee ;).

 ~~~~

 My twenties were something else. They held some of the best moments of my life, including my college graduation; dancing on the Badger Ballroom Dance Team; traveling to Turkey by myself; getting my writing published; vacations with family; and meeting brilliant, bold, hilarious, creative, and crazy people who changed my life.

 However, among the bright moments, my twenties also had a running theme of survival. The early years were spent figuring out how to "adult": live with roommates, survive college, cook decent food, not burn my house down, navigate the professional world, pay bills, avoid Madison city parking police, and find that ever-elusive Life Direction. Life definitely challenged me. But at the age of 24, I kicked up the intensity. I moved across the country to Tucson - a place I’d never been, where I didn’t have a job or home lined up, and where I only kind of knew one person. I packed two suitcases and bought a one-way plane ticket. When I tell people this, many say, “That took guts,” or “That was brave." I usually respond, "Yeah...or dumb." There's a fine line, really. At the time, I was intoxicated with two things: leaving Wisconsin and ballroom dancing. I felt suffocated by familiarity and needed a change of pace, and I was pursuing something specific: Tucson had a teacher from whom I wanted to learn. So I left. The downside was that I didn't have a good plan. Our country was still climbing out of the recession and I barely had an employment history. Some people do this and hit the ground running. My landing wasn't bad, but it turned into a quicksand situation. After several months of trying to make it, things weren’t working out and I went through some tough shit. I became too broke to move anywhere else and had too much pride to return home or ask for help. I was fortunate to find good people to provide a roof over my head. One household even "adopted" me as a family member, which was wonderful and made holidays easier. However, I rarely talked about the reality of my life to anyone: how I was surviving on food stamps, how I nearly ended up at the Salvation Army (and instead lived across the street from it), and how my days were mostly just working to exist. Frankly, I was ashamed of what I had become and of what I was going through. More than this, though, I was ashamed of my naiveté. I tried to follow a passion/dream/fantasy and I failed horribly.

 As I struggled to rebuild my life, I went through some dark periods of depression and/or fear, as well. Some are still too sensitive to share the details and with one in particular, I didn’t know if I would make it out the other side. At one point, I found myself in a situation I never thought I'd face, and - feeling the most distressed and hopeless I’d ever felt in my life - I admit I contemplated all the options. More than once it seemed my life was saved by an act of God/the Universe/whatever you want to call it, and I am grateful. I moved through these periods with the amazing help of others (particularly Kristen Mae), became a stronger person, and today I am fierce about protecting the healthcare, safety, and mental well-being of women.

 During the healing process of these times, I also severed pieces of my former identity and sense of self. Emotionally, I felt like I was cutting off limbs of my body, pieces that once made me who I was. However, I recognized those limbs no longer served me; I had changed. But as the wounds healed, new limbs began to grow and I felt a new sense of personal empowerment and authenticity. I had a habit of yielding to others and giving them more control than I should have. But now I was taking a firmer grip on the reigns of my life and directing it in a way true to me.

 Meanwhile, dancing was completely out of the question and I resented it for a while. I believed this childish dream and self-indulgent passion ruined my life, so I tried to suffocate it. It kind of worked. I spent most of my Tucson years working to pay bills and buy groceries, keeping myself occupied with inexpensive/free activities here and there, and hoping to live better one day…which was happening slowly. Even though I found wonderful company – people whom I love for bringing me joy and showing me kindness - I still felt an internal emptiness. Deep down, I spent four years feeling like a failure and wondering if my move was nothing but a detrimental mistake; years of my life wasted. I had wanted to be something…and I was nothing.

But things changed last year. I received a promotion at work and nearly cried when they told me my salary - I could afford a real life. Several people encouraged me to try dancing again and while it took some convincing, I decided to give it a shot. I emailed the only international style dancer I knew, someone I met years ago. I asked if he could recommend a few local teachers. By the next day, he had given me a thorough reply and – by the way – his partner had just moved to California, so he was looking for a one. My first day back on the floor was a try out - GAH. I was so nervous and my dancing was rusty and awkward. But it didn't matter in the end. When I left the studio, I felt that internal emptiness fill with light. I experienced a deep sense of happiness that I hadn’t felt for a long time.

Since then, every part of my life seems to have opened and grown: my dance knowledge and opportunities, my circle of friends, creative projects, my health, travel, and I found a funny and wonderful partner for life (and all the science experiments and lectures that come with him). I finally feel what it is like to flourish and not just survive. Tomorrow I turn 30, and I’m looking forward to it. I made it, everyone, and I’m glad to leave those intense coming-of-age years behind. I sincerely thank all of you - my family and friends - who have been with me along the way.

I don’t expect the next decade to be void of pain and setbacks, but my hope is that it will be one of living more fully than before – with more laughter, confidence, creativity, drive, community, and, of course, dancing.

Photo credit: While I only train in ballroom these days, I've danced other styles in the past and I simply love to move. Many, many thanks to Ed Flores for catching my dancing soul on film. 

Flying 

Painting

Dreaming

Engagement

Fourth of July is hot in Arizona. Every year I think it would be great to go out and see fireworks and every year I remember how unappealing it is to sit in 95-100 degree temperatures at 9:30pm. Not only that, but if you go down town, you have to bring chairs and walk a quarter mile from the car to where you want to sit. Ibrahim and I decided to stay home and try to watch fireworks from the roof. We could see a couple shows happening around the city, though all were far away and partially concealed by trees. But we had a comfortable camping pad to sit/lounge on and we could still see some cool explosions. Around 9:45, I started to get tired and said, “Ok, it’s time for bed.” Ibrahim said, “Wait, before we go to bed, you still need to do something.” I was confused…I did laundry, packed my lunch, didn’t leave any of my usual messes around… “Brush my teeth? Take a shower?” I asked. “Put on your slippers,” he said. “Go look at that skylight.” I got up and walked toward it. Now remember, there are some lights from the streets and people’s homes, but it’s still pretty dark. I went to the skylight and saw a black something. It looked like a mouse, but it wasn’t moving. I had no idea what Ibrahim was trying to pull, but I wasn’t getting any closer to it. Ibrahim finally came over, picked it up, and handed it to me. It was a velvet pouch. The next few minutes were a whirlwind. As I opened it and pulled out a heart-shaped ring box, he said, “Even though it is independence day,” Ibrahim asked, “Amy, would you give up your independence and marry me?” Of course I said yes. I couldn’t quite believe it, though. My head was spinning. I felt completely overwhelmed. I wasn’t expecting this. I knew Ibrahim would propose someday, but I thought that would be next year, honestly, in 2018 sometime. I also thought the proposal would be different…maybe more public…or in a different location…like we would take a drive somewhere, have dinner. But proposing here and now…I wasn’t expecting it. I felt unprepared. For the rest of the evening, my mind was in a state of bewilderment, disappointment, and shock. I wasn’t the “happiest person in the world.” Actually, aside from the details of the proposal itself, being engaged suddenly scared me. I had to wear this ring now that would declare my status to everyone. That’s the point, right? To show off? I didn’t want to show off. I didn’t want to wear anything. The fact that my life was changing right now became real to me. Don’t misunderstand…soon after we started dating I figured I would marry Ibrahim. He is a wonderful boyfriend. He does all my dishes and lets me eat his pasta, even after I told him I didn’t want any when he was making it. I love our life together and couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. I saw myself growing old with him. But holding a ring in my hand was kind of daunting. I just became engaged and I was not loving it. What was wrong with me? Back inside, I felt awkward. I didn’t know what to say or feel. I was just confused.  

Nevertheless, I carried my ring to work with me in its heart-shaped box and little pouch. I couldn’t wear it yet because it was too big. But I would pull it out when no one else was around and look at it. He bought this for me. Even if I could wear it, I wasn't ready. I just wasn't ready.

We took my ring in to get resized and you could see other couples around picking rings. I felt weird. My ring size, by the way, is 3.5. Ibrahim couldn’t believe it was that small.

 Over the next several days, I felt all sorts of things: happy, scared, anxious, excited, worried, bewildered, denial. I even cried once. Ibrahim later told friends that he could see I was in shock: I sort of walked around the house in a daze.

Aside from being engaged, the idea of planning a wedding was WAY more than I could handle. I’d get panic moments at work: What do I do? How much will this cost? Where will it be? Don’t these things have color schemes? Do I have to have bridesmaids? I don’t think I have any good enough friends to be bridesmaids. Wedding became the "W" word and I would freeze up anytime Ibrahim or I mentioned it.  

Finally, the following Saturday night, I needed to talk about what was going on and what we were getting ourselves into. Ibrahim and I have talked about things here and since we started dating, but I wanted to nail things down. We had a long conversation about what marriage meant to each of us, our fundamental beliefs, children, and dancing. I wanted to know that we were on the same page, and for anything where we weren’t, how we anticipated dealing with those differences. We also talked about how we could potentially change in the future. In the end, we aligned well on a lot of things. We both wanted a permanent life partner, and we wanted to marry each other because we worked well as a team and we enjoyed being with each other. Personally, I love that Ibrahim allows me to be me, accepts it, and wants to be a part of my life. He has demonstrated that from the beginning – going out of his way just so he can be present in my day-to-day happenings. I also love how he keeps me calm. I tend to worry a lot and he’s always saying, “It’s going to be ok! Don’t worry!”

 I felt a lot better after our conversation and was ready to announce our engagement. I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to tell anyone besides my family. You’re throwing a big chunk of your personal life out into the open, into the wild. Who knows how things will go over? 

I think my family was as shocked as I was when I texted them. Maybe a little more. None of them have met Ibrahim. Heather and Christine congratulated me. My dad was brief. My mom couldn't get the message. Eventually I was able to call my mom a few hours later and talk to her. She sounded cautious and skeptical, but was also supportive and positive at the same time. She probably figured there wasn't much for her to say or do. When I called my dad a little later, he admitted he was shocked. Both my mom, my dad, and Brenda (Evan even made a vocal appearance) chatted with Ibrahim for a little while. I think this was everyone’s first real conversation with him. Neither my dad nor Brenda had ever spoken to him before. It seemed to go over alright.

 I wasn't going to post any photos of my ring, because I hate it when women do that: show off their hand in any way possible. Of course, though, my mom asked for one, so I made Ibrahim take one with me. We fumbled around for a good shot and finally settled on one that looked Arizona-ish and was in focus. Then I posted it on Facebook. I debated doing this. I wasn't feeling particularly joyful. However, I rationalized that everyone has his/her moment to announce an engagement, and this was mine. Instead of people finding out piecemeal and watering down the experience, I might as well open the floodgates, have my moment, and hope it turned out ok. The response was overwhelming. People were "liking," reacting, and commenting every few seconds. People I haven't talked to in years were congratulating me.

 In contrast to my parents, people from our Tucson dance community were excited right away. These people see us on a weekly (sometimes daily) basis and would exclaim, “Congratulations! You guys are so great together!! This is really great news!” It was encouraging. I'm glad it seemed like a good idea to some people besides us.

I told a few coworkers the next day, but let everyone else discover my ring for themselves. I was still getting used to the idea. Now – a few weeks in – I’ve started to forget I have it on. I was pointing out some edits on a letter for a doctor and he said, “Did you get engaged?” I said yes and he responded, “Well, congratulations. I just kept seeing something flashing in my eyes!” Oh…heh.

 I feel much more comfortable with the idea of getting married now. I think my family and other people have had time to let the idea settle in, and now everyone is looking forward to a wedding, which still stresses me out. Sometimes I want to say, “Forget it! We’re going to get married by ourselves, plus a couple of witnesses.” But I think I would feel like I missed out if I didn’t have a wedding celebration with my family and friends. I just don’t know what I’m going to do. Everyone says, “You have time, don’t worry.” But you don’t…you need to book a year in advance sometimes. That means decisions need to be made MORE than a year in advance. I also have to figure out how much we can afford to spend. I don’t care about the details of party favors or invitations. I don’t think I’ll even have them. Maybe I’ll get one made for a scrapbook, one made for my mom, and one made for my dad. Done. Everything else is electronic. Facebook invitations. I care mostly about the dance party and having a bunch of people there.

 Back to marriage, though…I used to think it was risky marrying someone you knew for a year or less. You needed at least two-three years to know. However, I dated someone for three years and I was skeptical about a future with him for a lot of the time. I wanted us to work, but that was different from having evidence that it would. With Ibrahim, I could see early on that we would work well together. I think a large part of that was because he wanted a future together, and he showed that he wanted it every day. I now believe that when you find the right person – regardless of how long you’ve known each other - you will know he/she is the right person. Then, if you’re at a point in life when marriage makes sense (or if you just want it!), you should go for it. That’s where I am – I’ve finally found my person, my other half – and I’m excited for our adventures to come.

Riding from the North

I took an express bus to a road in north Tucson called, "Sunrise." The temperature was supposed to reach its zenith of an estimated 109 by the time I finished work, so I opted for a $2 bus fare instead of cycling across town and up hills. The express stops two miles north of my destination, but riding downhill for two miles beats riding uphill in 100+ degree weather.

As the bus climbed the road leading into the foothills, I watched the sunlight enhance every plunge and profile of the terrain around me. I actually felt anticipation. I'd ridden this path in a car before and I enjoyed it. However, I've never ridden it on a bike, where there is no barrier between you and everything you see.

The ride down was awesome. There was no stopping and almost no pedaling, because the hill let me accelerate the whole way. I could see over Tucson, a low city mostly hidden by light green trees and shrubs. The mountains glowed orange and red-brown in the distance, as the sun moved toward the western horizon. I continued to go faster and faster and hoped the two miles wouldn't end quickly. Being within two different speeds - the fast pace of everything blurring around you and the slowly approaching horizon in the distance - magnifies your senses. There is no glass to interrupt your sense of smell, touch, sight, and sound; and less stability on a bike puts your mind in potential "danger" status...all making you increasingly aware and increasingly present. The northern part of town is already beautiful, but the experience is even greater when you travel like this, unenclosed.

There are times when I really dislike Tucson. The pace is slow, the culture lacks sophistication, the city is too flat and too hot, the population is old, there isn't enough to do, everything is spread out and the transit system cannot make up for it. However, experiences like these let me see its hidden beauty. It can't convince me to stay forever, but it does make me glad I'm here.

When I was hired

I almost cried. I had been living paycheck to paycheck, scrutinizing the cost of every food or hygiene item or article of clothing I bought (I only bought clothes if I desperately needed them). When I got a job at the U of A, one of the most coveted employers in the city, I felt a rush of exhilaration and relief. I called and texted all the people rooting for me and we exclaimed and laughed together. I would have benefits again - I could visit the doctor with minimal costs, go to the dentist, get paid time off, afford to live on my own, not worry about feeding myself, etc. I don't remember if I actually fell to my knees that day, but I know they felt weakened to do so several times. I thanked God as though He had given me a free pass to Heaven.

Adventure: Durian Fruit in Tucson

The last time I had a durian fruit was in 2009 in a botany class taught by the famed Tim Allen. It's notorious for having a terrible smell but amazing-tasting flesh inside. "King of Fruits," I've heard it called and it grows in Southeast Asia. I became interested in eating one again when I discovered that Tucson had a large Asian market on the north side. I finally made it out there last weekend and bought myself a durian...which was definitely an adventure.

After finding my way around the surprisingly-organized grocery store (the Asian markets I'm familiar with are a bit of an overwhelming hodgepodge), I took a few laps around the produce section. However, after searching for 10 minutes, I couldn't find one anywhere. I asked one of the staff members, but he didn't speak English very well and said that they didn't sell them. Disappointed, I was about to leave.

But then I became determined. I had read on a blog post that they WERE there...so I looked it up on my phone and continued to wander. The writer said, "The most unusual fruit is inconspicuously placed in the far right back corner inside a freezer chest box. The chest box contains frozen durian fruit individually placed in green plastic netting."

I excitedly went to the back corner of the store and THERE THEY WERE! Dozens of durians!!

I pulled one out carefully - its spikes made it slightly dangerous. The checkout woman wrapped it in newspaper and then double-bagged it. I walked out very pleased with myself and my find. I felt like I was holding a treasure-bomb. 

I waited a day and a half to let it thaw out. Its frozen state kept it from smelling bad in my refrigerator, but I knew that I could not store it once I cut it open. I had been reading horror stories about people who had to throw out their fridges because the smell absorbed into the plastic.

I went outside at 7:00 in the morning on Sunday before work (and the day before trash day) with a huge knife, some newspaper and growing anticipation. I had no idea what I would find inside. 

I sliced it, but it was still frozen. When they are ripe and not frozen, they look like this:

Mine looked like this:

The photo is a little offensive, I understand. But I was so excited I didn't care! It still didn't smell because it was half-frozen. The inside is a cream and tasted like banana and vanilla custard. It was so delicious and well-worth the cost, trip, and risk of ruining my fridge. 

You can eat them plain or cook with them. It is popular to turn them into smoothies or shakes:

I don't know when I'll have a durian again...probably when I can get a bunch of people together and we can make a party out of it. That way we can eat it all together and maybe make shakes. The best time to buy them, by the way, is in the spring when they are in season and the prices are low ($10-15 vs $20-30). 

I also recommend buying them at least two days in advance to let them thaw, if they are frozen, and to eat it the night before trash day. I'm sure my roommates appreciated my planning on that one.

Switched-Race Alter Egos

My good friend Yvette is a black woman originally from D.C. She was telling me how she used to work at a call center and would adopt an alter ego in order to sell products. She imagined she was a little white blonde girl named Stevie and - after taking on this persona - she claimed to have had significantly more sales than she would have had otherwise. I thought this was hilarious, but admitted that I couldn't do the opposite - pretend to be a black woman on the phone.

"I don't know, Amy," she said. "Sometimes you get an attitude that reminds me of my aunts."
"Really..." I said. I thought this was cool. Part of me has secretly wished I was black...or anything other than white to be honest.
"What should my name be? Something like LaToya or LaKeisha..."
"LaKeisha!"

And so it was. Yvette and I now have alter egos that we enjoy pulling out at work every once in a while - Stevie and LaKeisha - and they are great friends. They bring much laughter into the office.

Without A Phone: One of THOSE People

Every so often, a careless person (read: friend) will write an annoying post on facebook that she dropped her phone in some body of water and now desperately needs numbers so that she can patch the pieces of her life back together. This time, my phone became the next victim to water (work + rain + biking home).

However. As we speak, my phone is sitting in a bowl of rice and I refuse to post a play-by-play of it's vital stats on facebook. Instead, I will post here that if you've sent me a "Happy New Years!" text, you probably won't receive a response. This is for you, Mom. 

Christmas Bonding Time

My mom and I have a heart-felt tradition for the holidays: pretending to exercise. We love going to the YMCA and burning calories together. Do we run? No. Do we work hard? Please. We grab magazines, jump on the tv-equipped treadmills, tune into My Sweet Sixteen or Emeril - maybe even bring a snack - and distract ourselves in every possible way from legitimate exercise. When we leave, it feels like we've accomplished something and, all smiles, we leave feeling great.

New Home

With my short-term lease being up, I set out on Craig’s List and found an inexpensive room to rent about 20 minutes by bike from where I worked. I now live in a small, but really cute home near the northern part of town with a woman, “Cindy,” and her daughter, “Rae.” Cindy is an event coordinator for a historic building, where many weddings are held, and Rae is a high school student and classical violinist. The other two occupants include a dog named Reese, and a cat named ZeeZee.

I personally love this house. Cindy has been living in it since the 1980s, and she loves to decorate it and be a homemaker. In fact, she redid my room a few times before I moved in – matching bed sheets, pillows, furniture, and decor with the painted walls.  I received updates via email on every new change. Then after I settled in, she told me to always ask before I went out and bought something, because they probably had extra on hand. Cindy and Rae aren’t wealthy, but they’ve hosted several visitors in the past (foreign students and friends in transition), and they all tend to leave things behind. This is great for Cindy, Rae, and now me: we have tons of extra toiletries, hangers, and more blankets and pillows than we know what to do with.

Another thing I love about my new house is the tile work. Cindy’s brother tiled the kitchen and bathroom walls, making them into works of art. The kitchen has a landscape of Tucson and the entire bathroom shower has the ocean, with sailboats and seagulls. I mention these features specifically, but the whole house is filled with little works of art, and each has a story.

Finally, I enjoy each neighborhood I’ve lived even more than the last and this one seems to top them all. First, the hostel was in a historic district, and then the apartment was in an eclectic, progressive part of town. This home resides in a middle class area and close to the mountains. I love getting up in the morning and seeing the mountains so close to me now…like they’re literally just down the street. At night, they disappear from view, but the tiny lights from houses light up the foothills. Day or night, it’s picturesque.

I wasn’t sure how I would adapt to a new home with roommates, but so far I love it – Cindy is a cheerful person and Rae is “cool” doing her own thing. The amenities are an upgrade for me, too: I have my own room, refrigerator, and bathroom. I have a full kitchen to use, a washing machine to do laundry, and a front yard to hang my clothes. The neighborhood is pretty quiet and domesticated, with grocery stores and two libraries near by. I also don’t have to park my bike next to my bed anymore out of fear someone will take it if I lock it up outside. There’s no end date for how long I’ll be here and Cindy and Rae have taken me in like a family member. I imagine I’ll stay for a few months…until I’m ready to move on to my next adventure J.

P.S. As soon as I find my camera, I’ll post photos…

There's No Better Feeling

...than feeling like you're right where you should be :). Given all my past goals and given where my life is taking me now, it's amazing how it all works together - but it's so unpredictable! No matter what I do to sabotage my ability to live well (as in being practical and finding a job and a place to live), something always seems to come through. It's as if someone or something insists that I be here and it keeps giving me opportunities and resources.

Living Better Part 2: From the Outside In

I've realized that building a positive mentality is not easy or natural for me. For some of us, it takes work. I'm not a person who wakes up with perfect hair and gets dressed by little birds in the morning. I know that happiness and positivity need to take place "on the inside" before you feel good on the outside, but I think there's nothing wrong with starting on the outside and working your way in. Specifically, I think going through the motions of good habits will change one's mentality.

Through a friend of mine, Ginger Kern, I discovered a guy named Phil and "The Feel Good Lifestyle." Phil is someone who decided he wanted to feel good in life. He spent a lot of time researching successful people and "feel good" tactics and now has a career helping other people create positive lives. Lately, I've been reading his blog entries and listening to his podcast discussions with other writers/entrepreneurs. I've decided to take some of their suggestions and a couple of these include:

1) Meditation
2) Excercise (including yoga)
3) Having a mantra
4) Taking cold showers

There are more, but these are the ones I'm doing. I have signs/reminders of self-esteem-building thoughts posted in my room and I've begun a routine of meditation + yoga every morning. I've also started a cold shower challenge, where I take only cold showers every day for 30 days. Honestly, this isn't too difficult to do in Arizona because
A) cold showers feel refreshing here (though they still shock you first thing in the morning)
B) the coldest temperature on my shower lever doesn't get very cold.
Nonetheless, it's still worth it in my opinion.

I've been doing these things for about a week now and little by little I've noticed changes. My outlook on life is much better, even when things are seemingly bad or inconvenient. By putting myself in situations that are physically uncomfortable (and learning to deal with them) and having visual, happy reminders as well, I find it easier to deal with everyday inconveniences and frustrations. For instance, a friend drove me to a store and when we arrived, they wouldn't accept the only form of payment I had. I could have gotten angry or felt dumb for not carrying another card or cash with me, but I let it go instead. It wouldn't have made anything better.

Changing from the "inside out" is effective, but I can't discredit changing from the outside in. Sometimes we need help, and altering habits has been working pretty well for me. I can definitely say that I laugh a lot more, which is worth a cold shower every day.