Small Town USA

As I map things out thus far, on the cusp of my 26th birthday I believe I will be entering the sixth chapter of my life.

Chapter 1: Kindergarten
Chapter 2: Junior High
Chapter 3: High School
Chapter 4: College
Chapter 5: Oh crap... I'm an adult. Now what?
Chapter 6: Gilroy Bound

Yeah, I said it. I'm moving home. That's right. Gilroy. Garlic-capital-of-the-world, home. No, I didn't lose my job or have some crazy sob story, a stalker, or anything cool. I just wanted to move home. So I am. I missed my friends and family and started resenting the 2 hour drive each way for visits. That's not the way I wanted to live my life. And more importantly I realized that San Luis wasn't making me happy.

People have called me crazy saying that San Luis Obispo is, and I quote, "The happiest place on earth." That's no lie. A few months ago there was even an article posted on Yahoo! about how it was literally named one of the happiest places on earth to live. Don't get me wrong. San Luis is a phenomenal city. But I'd like to see the scientific evidence behind this research. Minimally, I'd like to see the survey questions.

What people don't see when they look at San Luis is the lack of jobs, fair pay, and reasonable living. Not to mention the lack of diversity. I can throw a rock and hit 17 bleached blonds in jean skirts and Cal Poly tanks. That's not to say that I won't miss it here. San Luis Obispo has one of the cutest downtowns I have ever seen, I'm going to yearn daily for a Turkey California from High Street Deli and a Cowboy Cookie, and the wines here are better than anything I've ever tasted.

Additionally, I have San Luis Obispo to thank for my first real full-time jobs, without which I may never have met some of the most amazing and brilliant young people I've had the pleasure of working with. Also, if it weren't for San Luis, I might never have met Ms. Chavez and the whole nightmare-ish crew she calls friends.

Not many people can say that they are moving back in with their parents under good circumstances. But I can. Nothing will make me happier than being surrounded by my great parents, the friends I love, my insane sisters, my even more insane niece and nephew and a boxer that is the most loyal pet I may ever have the pleasure of cuddling with. Gilroy is no San Luis, but these are my roots and this is what I love...

127 Hours

My Monday night ritual of noodles and a $5 movie with my friend Jenny has not only become entertaining, but rather educating. This week we intended on seeing Black Swan. But as it always happens, it sold out right when we approached the ticket counter. We were left to see 127 Hours or to walk home in shame. "We should have eaten those damn noodles faster!" With our heads held high we dismissed the latter and headed into the theater. What's better than James Franco for two hours anyway? I guess Ryan Gosling for two hours, but I digress...

The movie wasn't quite like I had expected, but it was excellent. I would describe it as a mix of "Into the Wild" meets "Requiem for a Dream" with a touch of "Silence of the Lambs." Weird, I know. But the sheer thought of this movie being a true story made me quiver in my NorthFace (literally... I was wearing my NorthFace jacket. How festive am I?!). It was incredible how this man could have kept himself alive for as long as he did. A true outdoors-man indeed.

What I liked: I loved how interesting the cinematography was. The movie made you feel like you were down in a crevice in the middle of nowhere with this poor man, understanding all of his hallucinations and sharing every let down and triumph along the way. I also liked that I have the same exact Nalgene bottle as he had in the movie. Stay classy.

What I didn't like: The close up of the ants crawling all over him. Ick. I almost gagged a few times at parts that I'd rather not speak of.

Kudos to Danny Boyle for writing/directing the movie and making two hours of James Franco sitting next to a rock intriguing. This movie definitely makes James Franco Academy Award-worthy. Two thumbs way up.

Steal From Your Mother

I shop. A lot. As most of you know. So you would assume that my closet is a never-ending carousal of clothing constantly being rotated in and out as fashions fade. Call me annoying but for important events, I enjoy me a new outfit. So sue me. Nevertheless, there has been one article of clothing that has, and will remain, in my wardrobe cue for years: my cream wool hooded sweater.

I got this sweater from my mom's closet in high school because it was always freezing cold when I left the house at 7 a.m. each morning. After hoarding it for a while, I think my mom gave up her efforts for a permanent return and accepted that she was mine (yes, my sweater is a she). It wasn't until I'd worn the crap out of it that my mom turns to me one day and says, "Do you know how long I've had that sweater?" Uhhhhhh, no. But I have a feeling you're gonna tell me. "Forever," she says. Turns out she got it as a birthday gift from my dad either when she was in high school or shortly thereafter. The nostalgia automatically intrigued me.

I cannot tell you how many people compliment me on this sweater and ask me where I got it. It's an interesting story and great conversation starter. Even more than telling the story I love that inquiring fashionistas are unable to obtain this exact sweater.

Due to my sweater's overwhelmingly positive response, I decided to tool around my mom's closet and jewelry box a little more. Turns out mama-dearest had a ring, that she also has had since high school as well. Made out of the handle part of a spoon, it was engraved with a cursive "C" (Mama's name is Connie). I peg my obsession with finding anything and everything with either a "C" or "Carrie" on it to this very moment. After narrowing down the best excuse for requesting the ring be mine, my mom was happy to give it to me. She never wore it anyway.

Every now and then I ask my mom if I can fish through her jewelry box with her (which pisses me other sisters off) and I often find some gems. I highly recommend you all look through your mothers' stuff and starting a vintage family collection of your own. Afterall, your mom's trash could be this season's treasure.

Blogging about, well... blogging.

I love blogs. It's so much fun to read about other people's lives as they live them. Today Melanie posted a blog on Stephanie's page about a celebrity hair dresser who has a special needs daughter and I've been in the blogosphere ever since. Very touching. I read the family blog, then her blog as a hair stylist, then I wanted to add a link of her blog to my blog and realized that my blog background no longer exists. Sheesh. Anywho, I changed up the background. Do you love or what?

Point being: If any of you (assuming anyone reads this besides me) has a blog, please share. I'd love to read it. And if you don't have one, I encourage you to start writing. Thank you. Carry on...

Nerd Alert

A few months ago I was walking back to work from the post office and saw a book in the window of a consignment shop. I don't know what drew me to it, but I went in to check it out anyway. Turns out it was a hard over copy of Wuthering Heights circa 1943. I've never read the book but another urge engulfed me and I asked how much it was. $1.35. Sold.

As I walked back to work, I thumbed through the pages and observed the cover. The nostalgia of a book that was 65+ years old wasn't the only thing that intrigued me. What got me was the fact that I had, in my hand, a book that so many people before me had enjoyed; both physically in the book that I was holding and in the words Emily Bronte wrote so long ago. A classic. After examining every angle of the book, I concluded that I liked the spine the best. It looked vintage, a little worn, but charming. It was then that I decided I'd collect classic books to outfit my new bookshelf (that I bought for $30, thank you Sarah!).

It wasn't until this past weekend that I'd found some more books to add to my collection. At a used bookstore in downtown San Luis, I picked up "A Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (1960)" and "Here Lies Dorothy Parker (1939)." I got the Emily Dickinson book for obvious reasons, but the Dorothy Parker book was my true golden find. She was an author/poet in the early 20th century and a woman of my own heart. Smart, witty, and a man-hater. Love. I learned about her in my Women in Literature summer school class at Chico State and had been itching to get my hands on more of her work ever since. The hardcover book I got is only a collection of her short stories, but I picked up a paperback of a collection of her poems and stories at the used bookstore as well. I can't wait to thumb through and learn more about this literary hero of mine.

"I shall stay the way I am because I don't give a damn."
- Dorothy Parker

Freaks, Families, Fangs...

So I watch a lot of TV... what of it? I very much enjoy finding a new show and obsessing over watching all of the past episodes until I catch up to the most recent. I figured I'd share with you some of my latest victims.

Last week I rented Freaks and Geeks from the library. After I heard some good peer reviews (isn't that how it always happens?), I decided to give it a whirl. I loved it. It was smart, funny and best of all, had James Franco in it. I'm not going to sell Jason Segal short but mmmm... James Franco. Anywho, I digress. It's a shame the show only lasted a season. I will forever wonder if Sam ever confessed his love to Cindy Sanders or if Lindsay and Nick get back together. Maybe Judd Apatow will tell us in his biography someday.

It's been hard finding a good TV show these days that is so funny it'll make you fall over crying. Last show I had this experience with was The Office and, like my dating life, that fuzzy feeling fizzled after just a short period of time. Modern Family has proved to be the knight and shining armor of sitcom television these days. BRILLIANT and laugh-out-loud funny. And the best part? It's only just begun. This show is too good for just two thumbs up. I give it three thumbs up. Or I guess two thumbs and a big toe.

Last summer I spent an unspeakable night with Sarah doing nothing but eating Thai food, frozen yogurt and watching 12 straight hours of True Blood. It wasn't one of my prouder moments but it was 12 of the most addicting hours of my life. These writers probably pump this show full of subliminal messages, at the end of each episode leaving you salivating for more. Did I mention how hot Eric the vampire is? If I didn't... well.... he's hot. A great show with suspense hidden around every corner. Another great recommendation, although I might warn you, this is an HBO series so beware of some rather, ahem, graphic scenes.

Enjoy :)

Going to the chapel and we're gonna get maaaaaaaaaaarried!

Congrats to Kiersten and Ryan! I can't wait til you get Maui'd next year!