venue hunt, part ii: hometown pride... with a spanish twist?

As soon as I began looking at venue options in Santa Barbara, I started to feel better. During our drive home from the Bay Area, down the 5, it suddenly came to me that I had the perfect ceremony site, and maybe -- just maybe -- it would be nearly free to use.

Back in December, Jonathan* and I spent some time in Santa Barbara and Carpinteria with his family, and one afternoon went out to UC Santa Barbara for lunch at Woodstock's and to walk Ennis around the lagoon to Campus Pointe. It was then that I snapped this photo of the lagoon (and ocean in the distance) from one of my favorite, secluded lawn areas on campus -- right near the Santa Cruz dorms, where I lived as a freshman.

With this in mind as a ceremony venue, I started to do some more intense searches for reception possibilities in the area. It was easy to imagine getting married here, and how fun it would be to have our friends join us in such a beautiful destination. I figured there had to be a reception site that could compliment the beauty of UCSB.

"i'm not sure what i'll do..."

Free font: Jellyka Delicious Cake by Jellyka Nerevan

venue hunt, part i: all about the atmosphere

As soon as Jon and I got engaged, I promised myself that I would take the time to update you all here with every detail of the process, through the venue search, dress hunt, and general engagement jitters (with the planning, not with the fiancé!). I want to remember this -- this time before Jon and I are married and start our lives together as a family.

That being said, the last month I have been up to my eyeballs in internet searches for the perfect venue, debating the pros and cons, soup to nuts, of every location.

It's safe to say that I have a pretty clear vision of what I want. But really, more than that: I have a pretty clear vision of what I don't want. (I know that is the wrong way to approach decision-making, but I digress.) I felt this way about engagement rings; I'm sure I'll feel this way about weddings dresses. I don't believe that there's only one right option for me, because there is such a variety of venues (and rings, dresses, etc.) that so many of them can be "perfect." In general, I believed going into all of this that if the venue had the right bones, then we can create the right atmosphere to best match our personalities.

Historic Cedarwood wedding, photo by Krystall Mann via Style Me Pretty | candle photo source unknown | Babylonstoren wedding, photo by We Love Pictures via Miss Moss | Lago Giuseppe Cellars wedding, photo by MEF Photography via Style Me Pretty

Farmhouse tables, candles and market lights, handmade details, big blooms and wildflowers, surrounded by nature and/or rustic architecture... Low-key, but lovely.

I'm picky. We both are, but I wouldn't say that we have expensive taste. In fact, fancy locations make me nervous; I'd much rather be somewhere with some history, perhaps even something a little shabby.

You know what I mean.

jon proposes [a scavenger hunt]

On Sunday, March 3, 2013, I woke up with my dog happily jumping around me, bouncing on and off the bed. Nothing weird about this; it accurately describes every morning.

My sister, Kim, was visiting for the weekend; we'd spent all of Saturday marathoning Switched at Birth -- an ABC Family drama that deals with a girl who is deaf, so there is lots of American Sign Language. Kim is studying ASL and hopes to pursue interpreting, so... watching and loving this show makes sense. That was our weekend. Getting up-to-date on the full series while Jon was out of town visiting his folks in Santa Barbara.

At least, that was the plan. I went to bed on Saturday night expecting to wake up and keep going with the show. Apparently, that wasn't the plan at all.

I woke up (foggily) and knew from the various noises I was hearing that Kim had gotten up to take Ennis and her dog, Gretchen, outside so I didn't think too much about the fact that she was up already. Until I noticed that Ennis had something around his neck. I called him up on the bed and saw immediately that it was  a message in a bottle, with a bit of sand and everything. I also knew, of course, that it was for me and, through my daze, I started calling for Kim while I fumbled to get it open. In the process and spilled sand on the bed. I screamed for Kim through developing tears, saying that I'd spilled sand all over the bed.

I opened the message.



Aaaaaaand I immediately started crying tears of fear and confusion and happiness. It was a weird mix, and all I could think was that my hair was dirty and my armpits were smelly and how Kim had refused (for some reason) to go and get girly manicures & pedicures the day before. I was physically not prepared for this.

Mentally and emotionally prepared, however? Yeah. I was ready.

So I did what any girl would do who was half asleep and suddenly bombarded by romance: I sat there crying for a while. I dunno, it's a blur.

big changes take a little adjusting

It's been about almost two months since I've been around these parts, which means I'm the worst, but guys, really, I've been a bit preoccupied with other things, like how - two weeks ago - well...

Jon and I got engaged.

!

I'm still reeling a bit from how weird and wonderful it feels. The whole weekend was an out-of-body experience; something that still feels like it happened to someone else. That might also be because now - in the reality of having to eventually plan a real wedding rather than just pinning about hypothetical cakes, flowers, dresses, and decor (I may or may not have given it a little thought) - I'm already starting to feel stressed out.

No. No no. It's way too early for that.

Jon's proposal was creative, simple, and personal. With a little help from my dear sister, I'm pretty sure everything went off without a hitch. I mean... I said "yes," so... how bad could it really have been? I have photos and other things to share, as soon as I can get it all off my camera. But right now, my camera is over there, and I'm here with my whisky & coke and I'm happy to just take my time with this.

I promise I'll be back with a full breakdown on how Mr. Jonathan did the deed, but until then, here's a fairly accurate type-emoticon-explosion of what my last two weeks have been like.

@~{~~~  :-D  xoxo  ! ! ! ! $ $ $   *_*  . . . ? ? . . .  #%^&  . . .  :-D :-D ! ! ! <3

You're welcome for that.


* image: Will you by Genevieve Santos

the huntington library [cactus love]

* all photos in this post were taken with my camera phone, hence the slight fuzziness... No fancy camera on this trip!

There are a few things I've promised to do in 2013 besides "get healthy" and "fit in my clothes again." In the past, though, it isn't something that's been a good friend to my weight-loss goal. That's another part of what I'm trying to tackle this year, though: finding balance, resisting temptations, and focusing on what matters most.

For the first time since I left college almost five years ago, I am living within 30 minutes to an hour from my sister and numerous friends. This gives me incentive to leave my one-square-mile of comfort, and explore, explore, explore.

I admit: I'm not the biggest Los Angeles fan, or Southern California in general. It's nothing personal; I'm just a NorCal girl, and there's a long-standing grudge that the areas have against one another. (If you're not from the area, just imagine two different states. There's a clear separation between us.) 

Despite that, there are endless things to do down here, and so much I don't know about the area. I've resolved - along with Jon, Kim, and our friend Shannon - to see more of it, and really take advantage of all this county (and Orange County, too) has to offer.

We started last Saturday with the Huntington Library, Art Collections, and Botanical Gardens. Really, it isn't much of a library - which I didn't know until about two week ago, when Kim was talking to me about how incredible a location it would be to get married... until we noticed a little problem in the form of a jaw-dropping price tag.

No matter.

namaste, bitches

by Lime Fly Photography

It's a new year. 2013, you guys. I'm feeling so old suddenly.

The usual body and mind resolutions that are so prevalent come January have taken hold of my household. I wouldn't say we've done anything revolutionary, but this year we decided to focus on overall health, which means less of a focus on weight and numbers and scales and mass restrictions. (This, for a life-long, chronic dieter like me is, needless to say, a challenge.)

For years I have aimed for massive weight-loss each January, like the one I had when I was a senior in college, never really coming to terms with the fact that it just won't work this time. It's a hard habit to break; this desire to drop a quick 20 lbs. can be all-encompassing, and even now - 21 days after the implementation of my new, healthful mentality - I am struggling to resist the urge to jump on Medifast.com and order another $300 worth of food that will get me to my goal faster, easier. I'm not allowed to do that this time around. Just ask my handler/boyfriend. He's on crash diet watch.

I'm tackling my body-reawakening in installments, and so far it's been going wonderfully - as far as my strength, endurance, and flexibility is concerned.

Right after the new year changeover, I started up with Jillian Michael's "30-Day Shred" again. This is ol' reliable for me. I've started the 30-day challenge countless times, but have never stuck with it long enough to get a mastery of Level 2 and comfortably situated in Level 3.

via

This has been slow and steady, because in addition to starting up with Jillian again, I did a 2-week unlimited trial period at a local yoga studio, called SunSpark, in Old Towne Orange. I debated for a while whether I was going to do it, because after the 2-week trial, the monthly unlimited fee is substantially higher than simply joining a gym; I've had quite a few friends and relatives tell me that paying extra for a fancy yoga studio experience wasn't going to be worth it.

Now that my two weeks are over, I must disagree with their assessment. While I didn't experience any weight loss, the change in my body's flexibility and strength was apparent after just one week. The studio also has classes nearly all day long, which means I can go to class whenever I feel like it. I did around 5-6 classes per week, for a total of 11 classes (the 2-week trial fee is $20), and I've enjoyed it immensely.

There are a wide variety of yoga classes to choose from, from meditative/static, to strength-focused/moderate level, to cardio-focused/active, and I was doing approximately two of each type for both weeks during my trial. My last day was this past Sunday, and I am planning on committing to a 3-month unlimited membership starting after the 1st of February. It's an investment, but I feel it's money well spent, especially considering three weeks of Medifast food ran me about $250 - the same price as three months of unlimited yoga. Four classes per week will run me approximately $4.50/class.

Not too shabby, yeah?

Tackling one month of Jillian in conjunction with beginning my foray into the yogic arts is just a part of this body/mind reformation of mine. Rather than focusing on "dieting," Jon and I both are focusing our efforts on cleaner eating and smaller portions, which means listening to our bodies and indulging only on rare occasions.

With the help and inspiration of my dear friend and ex-roommate, Barbara (who has lost an astounding 50 lbs. in the last year), I'm working on finding the proper workout/food intake balance for my body, which has been a massive struggle in past years. I'm using MyFitnessPal to track some of my food so that I know I'm at least getting enough calories to feed my new workouts, but that I also don't overindulge on fats or carbs when I shouldn't.

Balance.

My motto for 2013. For my mind, my spirit, and my body.

via

Does anyone else swear by yoga, or even Pilates? Any suggestions for a chubby beginner like me? How has yoga changed your body, and how long before you started noticing results?

Inquiring mind wants to know.

EDIT: At my dear sister's request, a quick update. I failed to mention in this post that SunSpark Yoga, the lovely little studio near the Orange Circle, offers an amazing (and free!) community yoga class on Sunday nights. It's an "all levels" course, and the instructor changes from week to week. I plan on going this weekend, as my interim class before I start my 3-month unlimited stint.

If you're ever in Orange on a Sunday, definitely check it out!

christmas and thankfulness

by fashion illustration goddess, Katie Rodgers, via PaperFashion

Thinking of my friends and family, near and far today. I am happy happy happy today, and hoping that everyone is enjoying their Christmas mornings.

It's still the early hours of Christmas, but we all know that the height of the season comes just before the presents are ripped open and the tree's base becomes barren. Mugs are full of hot coffee, breakfast is cooking, and we're slowly making our way towards opening gifts.

The best time of the holiday for me, always.

I've been pretty absent during this last quarter of 2012, but I had to let everyone know...

I love you. I wish we could celebrate today and enjoy the last days before the new year together.

Kiss your loved ones today. Cherish your gifts, and relish if the generosity of others.

Be thankful.

I thank you.

x

pure imagination

by Gregory Colbert, via

My cousin, Eli, told me a story once about a pet elephant he kept in his jacket pocket. The elephant was no taller than his thumb. He tried taking this elephant onto an airplane, which was fine until he got onto the plane and at 32,000 feet, the elephant stealthily climbed out of his jacket pocket and started exploring the plane, right over everyone's bags and wadded-up coats. It was an hour before my cousin realized his pet elephant was gone, and had to figure out a way to find him without alerting the entire plane. He didn't want his elephant to get crushed or scared and run off and hide, he'd told me. He got up from his seat by the airplane window and walked to the front of the plane towards the cockpit, turned around and dropped a quarter down the long aisle. He fell to his knees, apologized, and started looking for his quarter -- actually, his pet elephant. I never found out if my cousin had found his elephant, because my mom said dinner was ready.

Eli was five when he told me this story. Not with the same, advanced vocabulary, but the plot went just like that. I was 17, in the middle of writing the play for a high school choir performance, and I remember thinking:

I've never in my conscious life come up with anything remotely as mesmerizing as this.

This wasn't because what he'd said was overly imaginative, but rather it was the ease with which he told the story. It was all about delivery. It wasn't a story to him; it had actually happened, yet I could see the cogs working behind his eyes -- never faltering, stopping only for a moment to think when I'd ask him what happened next. I stared at him like he was an amoeba growing legs. I looked at his mother, my Aunt Julie, and silently pleaded with her to give me some explanation. Was this a story he'd read? Had he seen a miniature elephant on TV? She shook her head, simply. No idea, she said with her eyes.

I'm not very good with kids, and I find myself bored with them easily. I don't like playing or pretending, and I certainly don't like to stop what I'm doing and go out of my way to entertain them...

On the other hand, I love listening to them. Their imaginations fascinate me, and the way they see the world is exquisite. I love asking questions and finding out more. Their lack of filters and their self-assuredness means there is no cap on what they can come up with. They don't concern themselves with what other people will think, or whether their stories and ideas will stand up to someone else's.

It's sad that most kids lose that freedom. I certainly did, that is, assuming I ever had it. I'd like to think I did, and that it's still inside me somewhere, locked away. I'm in such awe of adults to seem to have maintained that level of imagination and confidence. That's the key, I think.

My cousin is 14 now, and I told him this story over Thanksgiving dinner. He, of course, doesn't remember it, and is at that age now where rolling your eyes at everything is the jammiest of jams. He thought it was silly.

jump up and touch the sky

I know shit-all about music. Really, I know nothing, except what I like when I hear it. I couldn't tell you, from a technical or musical perspective, why I like it. All I know is that if a song is catchy / the lyrics are beautiful / a person's singing voice is top-notch / it makes me wanna dance / makes me wanna jump up and down like a monster, I'm probably going to enjoy it and play it to death.

Sometimes, I just want to play the same three songs on repeat, all day for a few weeks, because they infuse me with energy and fuel my imagination. Sometimes, I just want to imagine that I'm a rock star and smash up furniture.

What's playing now?

I'm glad you asked. (And if you didn't, let's pretend you did.)

The holidays make me tired, and it's the time of year when I'm usually listening to Rufus Wainwright and Norah Jones. Rainy days, gray skies... they lead to lazy day music. The kind where you turn off the lights, pour some red wine, lay on the floor surrounded by pillows and blankets, and play Rufus' "Poses" album over and over again.

It's not very conducive to getting work done.

How about you? Do you have any get-off-your-butt-and-start-moving-you-fat-pig music? Any particular songs that are just too infectious to stay still?

Send 'em my way. I'm itching to break something.