Abstract SheNANigans

MORE LIFE TO LIVE

2012-02-10T23:18:00.000-08:00

I did it. Yesterday morning my doctor gave me the green light to stop taking my blood pressure medication. Three days before the new year I was diagnosed with hypertension and it infuriated me. And when I get mad I take action. At the time, I gave my doctor the usual spiel about my stance on holistic healing. But when he gravely delivered the "massive stroke" punchline I didn't laugh. My aunt just suffered one and I saw the devastation it caused in our family. (Thank God she's recovered 100%.) My doctor pulled no punches and asked if I wanted to see my granddaughter graduate from medical school. A notion that wasn't too far fetched since she always has the medical dictionary read to her.

The following week I intensely scoured the Internet on information regarding hypertension. I used the resources available to me at my job and learned it would take 10% common sense and 90% free will to control my blood pressure. I didn't have to be a victim of genetics or depend on medication to do something that my body is capable of doing on its own. I had to make a permanent choice!

What is hypertension? It's high blood pressure. It's a serious condition where the blood pressure in the arteries is elevated. What causes hypertension? The list is long but common causes are: smoking, obesity, high levels of salt intake, a sedentary lifestyle, vitamin D deficiency, stress, high alcohol consumption, birth control pills, genetics, and chronic kidney disease. It didn't take a profound epiphany to extract the #1 culprit of MY hypertension from the list-high levels of salt intake. I exercised regularly, managed my stress as best I could, drank one glass of wine at night, and didn't have chronic kidney disease. I could have chalked it up to genetics and stress but I had to be honest with myself. I wasn't eating properly and was feeling it for months.

I found the Dash Diet specifically designed for people like me and it touted to lower blood pressure in 14 days. So it was up to me. In one day I was dumbfounded to learn of the high amount of sodium in the food I consumed that I thought was safe. I erroneously believed that soup was heart healthy. Uhhh, that would be a negative. The soup I was eating at our cafeteria contained 1,770mg of sodium!!!! I'm supposed to consume ONLY a maximum of 1,500mg/day. Let's not talk about the sauces, dressings, meat, and snacks I loved. I truly believe that french fries should be removed from a food group and placed in a drug class-narcotics. I made excuses every day for needing to stick those salted potato sticks down my throat.

For the last month I replaced french fries with fruit; lots of fruit! And I ate vegetables (preferably raw) instead of white rice. I decreased my red meat and increased my protein intake via vegetables, nuts, legumes, and spinach. (I still eat red meat once in a while but not 3x a week or more.) I checked the sodium content on every nutrition label that was available and discarded those that had more than 6%. I opted for the veggie burger w/no sauce and convinced myself to love it. Oh, and water. I am drinking so much dratted water. Thank God my friend Michele told me about MIO water enhancer which makes H20 consumption a pleasant experience. I have to be honest, I used to love eating and was a proud foodie. Eating was a recreation meant to be savored and enjoyed. But those days are over...well, for now.

My radical shift in mindset toward food will allow me to have more life to live. I'm taking responsibility for my actions and ensuring that I don't become a burden to my kids should I have a massive stroke or heart attack prematurely. This vast world has parts of it that my camera hasn't captured and my calling has yet to be fulfilled. My granddaughter, Rylee, and I, have so many adventures to undertake.

Life was meant to be lived in abundance. Let's do it healthy!

INTEGRITY, BUSINESS, AND PYRAMIDS

2012-02-08T23:45:00.000-08:00

Integrity. What's happened to it? Does anyone even know what the definition is and how to apply the words to their actions?

Integrity --->>>The quality of being honest and having strong moral principles<<<---

Why is that so difficult?

Last December I asked myself these questions after experiencing a disappointing encounter with someone I believed exemplified the meaning of integrity. This person befriended my family at a time when hopelessness dwelt in our hearts. We didn't question this person's intentions or integrity because of how we met. I will call this person Decepta.

Decepta seemed like a decent human being with a big heart for loving people. Decepta also loved Jesus. I thought Decepta was an answer to my prayer for an older mentor who would help me in my spiritual walk. I was excited! My family opened their home to Decepta and was introduced to our huge clan during a holiday party. My aunts commented on how nice Decepta was and how fortunate we were to have met such a person of integrity. One week before Christimas, Decepta invited us to her humble abode for dinner. Again, her motives weren't questioned by anyone and we genuinely believed that we found a true friend in this person.

I should have seen it coming, though. The meticulous way everything was planned and manipulated should have alerted me. But my desires for a mentor drew a curtain over my eyes. After dinner Decepta unfurled her sweet facade like one of Megatron's little minions and revealed her true incarnation. Decepta had a business venture to present to us-a business venture that surprisingly mimicked a pyramid. No amount of fancy words or shucking and jiving could disguise the shape of a pyramid.

And there it was. The ugly truth. My family was only a means to Decepta's ambition to promote her business. Decepta even had the audacity to suggest that we would be successful in this business venture because of how large our family was. Which meant she didn't view us as people, we were merely walking $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$. I silently shook during the half hour I sat on Decepta's couch watching the DVD presentation. I had my mom and granddaughter with me and causing a scene would have been disastrous.

Had Decepta been straightforward with us and presented the business venture without false pretenses her credibility would have remained intact. I'm sure she is still a nice human being who is capable of loving others. But her actions that preceded the presentation of her business were misleading and disingenuous. Nothing Decepta says or does will convince me otherwise.

My family convinced me to handle this situation in a mature manner and I did. I told her NO, not interested instead of HELLLL TO THE NOOOOO! But I AM grateful she passed through our lives albeit briefly because as a business person I have an example of how NOT to be. As I conduct my photography business I will ensure that my actions AND words are backed up with integrity while I approach people with honesty.

SCAVENGER HUNT FOR BLESSINGS | 5

2012-02-04T20:31:00.000-08:00

Last Monday night when I was sitting in the emergency room with my mom the exhaustion had seeped into my bones. It was around 10:30 p.m. when my mom was crying from the chest pains she's experienced for the last 24 hours. The sights and smells of the emergency room were reminiscent of 2011 as I sat on the uncomfortable chair blindly reading Steve Jobs's biography. I was done.

I watched the pair of hands on the hospital clock dance a neverending minuet and I had a sudden urge to salute it with a middle finger. I allowed myself to think self-centered and self-absorbed thoughts because I was too flippin' tired of finding the positive in the situation. I was tired of taking care of people and even more weary of waiting. Waiting for my turn to live MY life. Because quite frankly, I hate living at home. I want my own place. I feel trapped with the debt that yes, I know, I accrued on my own volition. I hate that my family depends on me yet makes me feel like a burden at the same time. All rational thought ceased from existance in my fatigued brain that night. Inside my head I was a stark, raving, self-centered, lunatic bitch.

The doctor came in at 3:30 a.m. to tell my mom what I already knew before they checked her in the emergency room. My mom wasn't having a heart attack. She was experiencing chest pains/heart palpitations from stress/anxiety. The stress/anxiety that she was too afraid to admit was partly caused by my presence at home.

Driving home I told myself that I refused to be a victim of my circumstances especially when those circumstances were created by my bad decisions. I won't allow 2012 to be defined by people and things beyond my control! And I reminded myself of the many years my parents silently endured the hellish nightmare I put them through. They never gave up on me and always kept their door open when I needed to come back home. I have been the prodigal daughter more than once and they have never turned me away. Today, I saw this tweet in my Twitter timeline and it humbly reminded me that everything is temporary. I just need to get my head out of my a$$!

I am thankful for: the blessings of good health in my family, parents who don't give up on children even when they're being a-holes, the job I'm not passionate about that is slowly paying off my debt, and my faith. Because without my faith I would probably be in jail. Follow @NRica40Photo

20 BEAUTIFUL BOOKSTORES | BUCKET LIST

2012-02-02T20:02:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning my inbox greeted me with the most breathtaking article from Flavorwire: The 20 Most Beautiful Bookstores In The World. For a die-hard bibliophile it was fodder for my voracious reader's heart. I live and breathe books. I would probably eat them if my body found sustenance in its pages the way my brain feeds off of the words. I was jealous of Belle when the Beast's testament of love was delivered through a library! A flippin' LIBRARY! Imagine the heart palpitations in my chest when I read this article and saw the 20 beautiful bookstores in the world! I pulled out my Bucket List and wrote: visit each bookstore in this article and take a self-portrait before you die! First stop: Ojai, California! (I've already been to The Last Bookstore, in Los Angeles, CA.)

Enjoy these images that I copied from the Flavorwire article and hope you don't drool on your shirt like I did. And if you know of beautiful bookstores not mentioned in this article please share your knowledge with me.

A gorgeous converted Dominican church gives the power of reading its due diligence. Selexyz Bookstore, Maastricht, Holland

Modern design at its finest in a store full of art books. The Bookàbar Bookshop, Rome, Italy

We love the stairs as reading and display area, the wall-to-wall bookshelves, and the simple, clean design. Plural Bookshop, Bratislava, Slovakia

This divine neo-gothic bookstore, opened in 1906, contains what we consider to be the ultimate definition of a stairway to heaven. Livraria Lello, Porto, Portugal

Somehow, this bookstore manages to be both whimsical and slightly macabre all at once. Cook & Book, Brussels, Belgium

There’s magic in the air at this English-language bookstore in Beijing. Bookworm, Beijing, China

This majestic converted 1920s movie palace uses theatre boxes for reading rooms and draws thousands of tourists every year. Librería El Ateneo Grand Splendid, Buenos Aires, Argentina [images via and via]

Poplar Kid’s Republic, Beijing, China

This is a bookstore that seems to be made almost entirely out of books — down to its dramatic front doors. Livraria da Vila, Sao Paulo, Brazil [photos via]

For those who like their green spaces (and coffee shops) to invade their bookstores. Cafebreria El Pendulo, Mexico City, Mexico [photos via]

For those browsers not as impressed by architecture as they are by the beauty of books upon books upon books in narrow hallways — not to mention a place to nap. Shakespeare & Company, Paris, France [photo via]

The huge space, high ceilings and stately pillars make for a lovely reading experience. The Last Bookstore, Los Angeles, CA

For sailors and beach readers alike, this sun-kissed bookstore is a little less ostentatious than some of the others on this list, but no less lovely. Atlantis Books, Santorini, Greece

The biggest outdoor bookstore in the world, this photo doesn’t really do the place justice — it’s all about the view. Bart’s Books, Ojai, California [photo via]

The bookstore section of the larger complex dedicated to art and design certainly lives up to its mission. Corso Como Bookshop, Milan, Italy

Barter Books, Alnwick, UK [photosvia]

This beautifully designed space has surprising shapes, cleverly constructed nooks and crannies and even a tree or two. The American Book Center, Amsterdam, the Netherlands [photo via]

VVG Something, Taipei, Taiwan

This store has a flying bike and books to the ceiling. Need we say more? Ler Devagar, Lisbon, Portugal

Daikanyama T-Site, Tokyo, Japan

Follow @NRica40Photo

SCAVENGER HUNT FOR BLESSINGS | 4

2012-01-28T08:16:00.000-08:00

This past week was challenging on ALL fronts: physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Hope was as elusive as the sun on a cloudy day, Joy was playing hide-and-seek, and Happiness was missing in action. You know who was around to play? Despair wanted to play tag, Depression waged a tug-of-war competition, and Despondency was a dodge ball expert. Although I tried my best to win against these masterful opponents I got a shameful beat down! This entry almost didn't get written and I was contemplating on giving up on these installments. I wore my WUSSY jersey with pride and allowed myself a few breakdowns while wallowing in the pool of Oh-Woe-Is-Me.

"Oh, who cares about these stupid blessings anyway?"

"No one reads my dumb blog so I could skip a week, or two, or forever."

"Life sucks and then you die."

"I like being negative, I was born negative.Word."

"People are dumb and I hate them."

"Ooh, look another gray hair, see, I'm an old hag, no one cares."

"No one really listens to me anyway. Every time I open my mouth I get interrupted."

But I wasn't focusing on blessings and changing my character for anyone but me. I wanted to change and I was sick of being me. Since when have I given up so easily? So I did what I've always done in the face of adversity. I picked myself up in my bruised and battered state to fight back. And there they were, the blessings that surrounded me but I was too blind to see. They appeared in the form of my girlfriends, nature's beauty, Twitter people, and my granddaughter, Rylee. Oh, I know there are infinitely more blessings than what I've listed but for the sake of time and short attention spans I'm limiting my scavenger hunt discoveries to these:

I <3 shiny disco balls and I was grateful for it last Saturday night when Ray and I were at the Grandstar Jazz Club in Chinatown, L.A. Just put those things above me and I won't refuse to dance, dance, da-a-a-a-a-n-c-e.

Thank goodness for my favorite leopard print umbrella that made my Monday morning walk to work a fun one! I felt like I was in a musical and almost busted out a dance move while the rain fell on the sidewalk.

I almost missed the beauty of this plant or flower but red is my favorite color and I zeroed in on it. I was on one of my step-away-from-your-cubicle-and-calm-yourself walks and I was so grateful for this splash of color.

How appreciative I am of my friend, Lina, who is always so patient and tolerant with the unpredictability of my life. We were supposed to have a brainstorming session for writing and photography projects at Barnes and Noble but we had a surprise guest...Rylee. What I WAS NOT grateful for were the Barnes and Noble staff who kicked us out of our little corner then continued to give us the stink eye wherever we parked ourselves. We felt so monitored that we left for Starbucks. Thank God for Starbucks with comfortable chairs!

I'm back on Twitter and ONLY following people who will enhance and nurture my brain cells. Thank you, LINA BEAN, for recommending Jeff Goins and Jon Acuff to me for they have been awesome resources for writing, blogging, and hilarity! And to the rest of the followers I have thank you for making my comeback to Twitter a great experience!

Yesterday I received an e-mail from my friend Courtney who saw this on Pinterest and thought of me. Her timing was precise because I was sitting at my desk thinking venomous thoughts of someone. Thank you, Courtney, for not only sending this to me but for your sage advice: Be kind to yourself. (I'm trying, girl, I'm trying!)

So this week if those bullies-Despair, Depression, and Despondency-want to play mind games with you just remember to enlist Team Blessings to be your back-up. You will stand victorious in the bully beat down of the week! I will leave you with this video of my granddaughter, Rylee, whose singing made me laugh in the face of adversity!

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CHOOSE WISELY

2012-01-27T00:35:00.000-08:00

"A cubicle at a job you don't love can either be a prison cell or a launch pad. The choice is yours each day. Choose wisely." ~JON ACUFF

I follow Jon Acuff on Twitter and when I read his tweet this morning I felt the impact of each word as if boulders slammed into my chest. The truth HURTS! I took the picture of the girl above when I attended a homeless outreach in Fullerton. It wasn't so much the shirt that caught my attention but the pure happiness radiating from her smile. I was jealous. She was HAPPY doing her job, serving the homeless plates of hot dogs and potato chips. I was drawn to her and couldn't stop staring. I was so grateful that she let me take a photo of her.

I'm ashamed to say that it wasn't the homeless that mesmerized me that day; it was her. I want to work in a job that I LOVE. I want to perform in a job that made me smile like that. If it were feasible for me to quit my current job in the field that I detest and become a full-time photographer there would be no hesitation.

For years my sorrowful lament was about the prison cell that was my cubicle. I read blogs of other photographers who were in the same plight, yet, took the leap of faith and are now successful full-time photographers. But photography is NOT cheap and instead I dug myself a ditch of debt to start my photography business. It is a ditch so deep I can barely see the top of it as I stand in the bottom looking up. In 2011, I was miserable every day that I logged into my work computer and became more depressed, despondent, and dejected. I came home after work looking and acting like Gollum, corrupted by my own lust, loving and hating myself for my desires. My boyfriend, Ray, would try to be patient, advising me to make the most of it at work, that I was only making things worse for myself. His advice was received with vicious hissing and whining. I was a mess.

As 2012 loomed ahead I knew I had to make changes and tweak my mindset about work. Weary of being miserable I looked for the positive and focused on them. Even on my bad days I battle the Gollum inside me and tell myself that God has plans for me: plans to prosper me, not to harm me, plans to give me hope and a future.

Tomorrow when I walk into that dreary building and plop my butt into my chair in the middle of a drab cubicle, I will look around and view it as a launch pad. Tomorrow I will choose wisely.

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SCAVENGER HUNT FOR BLESSINGS | 3

2012-01-21T13:44:00.000-08:00

Have you ever made a vow to change your ways for the better only to be vehemently confronted with the old ways that you question your conviction to change? I don't know if it's my hormonal cycle, the weather patterns, or the moon phases but I get the impression that the negative circumstances and people have risen up in an ungodly revolution against my resolve to focus on the blessings. It has been one of those weeks that have wreaked havoc on my immune system and yesterday morning as I was driving to work my thoughts were saturated with negative content. I had no energy and it was easier to whine, complain, and revile the world than to praise God and be thankful.

But I reigned my savage thoughts in with as much deftness as Solomon Rarey taming violent horses. In the confines of my car I shook myself and said a prayer of gratitude for all the good things that occurred this past week. Why does this have to be a constant struggle? Gratefulness should come as second nature and that is my goal for 2012.

This week's installment of hunting for blessings uncovered priceless finds:


I was scrolling through the camera roll on my iPhone when I found this picture. I am grateful that I found it because it served as a reminder to stand tall and strong like a tree in the face of adversity.


I'm grateful for learning the act of forgiveness; for releasing yourself of grievances is like dumping the heavy baggage you've been carrying for years.

I'm grateful for my very good friend Michele whom I've known for over 10 years and is my "twin" sister. She lives in "the Palisades" and I got to reunite with her at two of my happiest places on Earth: L.A. and the beach! Commiserating over our similar "war" stories and common annoyances made me feel less...insane. HA! She reminded me to forgive and that "Anything worth having is worth fighting for."

Can I get an "amen" for Trader Joe's?! With my new heart-healthy diet I found the best granola to drown in my Greek Yogurt. Hemp Plus Granola is organic, a source of Omega-3 AND low-sodium. If my blood pressure doesn't lower after this I will seriously scream.

I'm grateful for those who oppose SOPA and PIPA. Don't we live in a "free" society or is that only an illusion?

I detest drinking water! But it's essential for survival especially when you have hypertension. Okay, I know, I know, it's essential, period! Thank you, Michele, for recommending MIO liquid because it is now my best friend! I can drink gallons of water when it's peach tea flavored!

Yogurtland + my granddaughter Rylee = priceless memories with Gramma Nette. How can I not be grateful for that?!

Hallelujah for the Glo Bible app on my iPhone! When I am stressed, frustrated, angry, depressed, lost, broken, and GRATEFUL, the word is just at my fingertips. It puts everything into perspective and the verse above restrains my mouth at work.

A high 5 goes to my friend Alma's 8 year old son, Evan, who unknowingly lifted me out of the depths of a weary funk one night. When I receive compliments from grown men I am instantly suspicious and on guard about their intentions. But admiration from an 8 year old boy is genuine. Thank you, Evan, for making my day!

For the upcoming week, no matter what challenges and hardships you face I hope you step back, be still, and see the blessings surrounding you.

"Gratitude lifts our eyes off the things we lack so that we might see the blessings we possess." ~Max Lucado

DROP THE HATE

2012-01-16T16:20:00.000-08:00

Last Friday my friend Christi wrote the following quote on my Google+, "Kiss slowly, laugh insanely, live truly, and forgive quickly." I nodded my head as I read the first three until I got to the latter. (Insert sound of screeching brakes here.) I've written about my inability to forgive quickly in some of my previous posts but this weekend I was confronted by a hate so palpable it felt like a blow torch incinerated my viscera.

I've sat in church hundreds of times and listened intently to sermons on forgiveness. Forgiveness is a choice that liberates me from a self-imposed prison cell built on hatred, bitterness, and resentment. Once THAT concept penetrated my thick, stubborn skull I made a conscious effort to forgive the one who physically, mentally, and emotionally abused me for ten years. And forgiveness is like an ongoing self-improvement workshop that requires commitment and daily attendance. But I've discovered that it's true: choosing to forgive someone releases you from your own hatred because harboring that venomous poison is another form of self-abuse and self-destruction. I couldn't move forward with living life in its abundance and loving another if I didn't learn the exercise of forgiveness.

As a recipient of a hatred so fiery in its depth I felt an excess of emotions: pity, wonderment, irritation, disdain, and amusement. Pity, because this person who is practically a non-entity to me wasted so much time and energy mustering an almighty hatred. Wonderment, because the vicious hatred spewed from this person would be justified if I intentionally sabotaged or retaliated in some form but I have not. I'm not claiming innocence but take ownership of my own actions. I know my deeds have been misunderstood and/or misconstrued but this person's hatred doesn't allow room for compromises. The gavel of this person's justice has slammed and I've been judged without mercy or grace, issued a life sentence of undiluted enmity. Irritation, because it is evident that hatred truly festers from the inside out and the state of this person's health is being affected. Disdain, because this person's hatred is affecting a third party and it's unfair. And amusement, because this person is clueless of my ambivalence to the hatred. I'm not one who operates on affirmation and the need to be liked. I've always believed that you either like me or you don't and I will not apologize for who I am if I'm not intentionally hurting others.

I accept that this person will not alter their stance in their hatred toward me. This person is not unlike the hollow tree that is infected by spreading decay of fungi and insects leading to deterioration. It is the individual's choice to forgive me or to initiate an act of reconciliation. In the past I have made overt acts of deference but obviously this person was merely lying in wait for the time when I would err in judgment. Thus, opening a door to unleash the monster of hatred.

So, I remain silent. And grateful for a living testament of the inward devastation that occurs when hatred is nurtured, then harbored. This person will serve as a reminder to live my own life choosing to forgive quickly.

I encourage all of you to heed the words of one of my favorite Fatboy Slim songs, drop the hate, forgive each other.

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SCAVENGER HUNT FOR BLESSINGS | 2

2012-01-14T09:01:00.000-08:00

Whenever I'm experiencing major life changing events my first inclination is to retreat. I enclose myself in an invisible shield and keep everyone at arm's length. I spent the majority of last year in a fetal position; not awaiting birth but to protect myself from the harsh elements of reality. Our family lost a loved one, my finances were a mess, my dad's health was deteriorating and thought we were going to lose him, my parents dependence on me was overwhelming, and my aunt had a massive a stroke a week before Christmas. My withdrawal manifested negativity, bitterness, anger, and resentment. I was ugly. I'm surprised I still have a family who loves me and a boyfriend who persevered in a relationship with a woman who spewed hatred as often as a pastor preaches loving thy neighbor.

My 2012 resolutions didn't include hitting the gym on January 1st. Forget about my physical appearance, my inner character required a major overhaul. We are 14 days into the new year and my resolve to focus on blessings has not wavered. The practice of being grateful has opened my heart to endless possibilities of joy that come in many forms.

This week's scavenger hunt for blessings uncovered the following treasures:

The rich beauty of winter foliage. I can be so engrossed in my busyness that the sun will rise and set without my noticing the simple beauty around me. How grateful I am for the undisputed glory of nature's colors.

This week I have been incredibly blessed by my girlfriends. Again, I'm surprised I still have them considering I withdrew from everyone last year. I should devote an entire blog entry to all of them but for now I am so grateful for Christi and Nary who introduced me to antique stores and nutty monkey bagels (haha); for Lina who is always so incredibly understanding of the unpredictability of my life and is patient with my rescheduling. Thank you, Lina Bean, for dinner and the "awkward" moments. "You wh*re!" (HAHA!) And my biggest shout-out this week goes to the pretty-kick-a$$-earthly-prayer-granting-angel, Courtney, who surprised me with a gift certificate for a massage. I have been secretly praying for a massage so her gift is priceless. You ladies make me strive to be the best kind of friend to be!

No matter how many ways I spin it in my head or justify the reasons why I'm living with my parents in my 40s, it is still embarrassing and shameful. Last year I railed constantly at the injustice of not being able to afford my own place. Nonetheless, I've learned to be grateful for my parents and precious moments like these when I wake up to my granddaughter snuggled next to me in my bed.

Every Wednesday my son and I attend bible study at Cottonwood Church and it is a soothing balm to my soul. It's like pressing the reset button on my week, recharging my weary bones, and bringing life back in them. I am grateful to have the chance to spend quality time with my son and worship my Creator in the middle of my crazy week.

Having been diagnosed with hypertension three days before the new year would have put me in a depressed state. But being depressed wouldn't be in alignment with my 2012 resolutions. Changing my diet has been difficult but not impossible. I am thankful for my son who is an assistant manager at Subway and who made me this egg white and tomato sandwich for my Friday morning commute to work.

May your week be filled with abundant blessings and I hope you slow your footsteps long enough to notice the beautiful world around you!

SCAVENGER HUNT FOR BLESSINGS | 1

2012-01-07T07:20:00.000-08:00

I've decided to post an entry at the end of each week to list the things I was grateful for during the week. It is part of my conviction to change in 2012 by being happy because I am thankful. For some being happy and thankful is as easy as instant oatmeal. For someone like me who suffers from severe depression and is naturally negative being happy is an uphill battle. I say "naturally negative" because I was brought up in a family who didn't believe in positive reinforcement or outward expressions of love. But I DON'T have to be that way. I CAN reprogram my mindset. I DON'T have to ruminate on what I DON'T have and wait for happiness to grace me with her presence. Since January 1, 2012 I have conducted a daily scavenger hunt for blessings and it has completely realigned my mindset and heart.

This week's scavenger hunt turned up the following blessings and I am incredibly grateful for:

Living in a time such as this. My cousins spent three weeks in the Philippines and on his layover home he sent me this photo of Tagaytay. I am grateful for technology that allows me to appreciate the beauty in this photo. In the background is Taal volcano.

This book! I want to publicly thank Stefano and my sister for this wonderful gift! The best gifts I receive always come with a spine, pages, and words. Buying books was eliminated from my budget and I have greedily checked them out at the library but THIS is MY treasure. I'm savoring every page, every word, every morsel of Steve Jobs.

My casual Friday shoes that make the dreariest of corporate cubicles bearable. I posted this photo on Instagram and wrote that caption. It's been over a year since I wore these shoes and recently found them. Another treasure. I mean, c'mon, can you blame me? Look at that hideous office carpet!

My girlfriends, Christi and Nary, who had to accommodate my broke A$$ and change our Sunday brunch venue from Orange Hill Restaurant to umm...a bagel place. Yes, a bagel place. They're depriving themselves of scrumptious all-you-can-eat food so WE can all see each other. I'm also giving my girlfriend, Jessica, a shout-out for completely understanding when my debit card got declined while I was buying her breakfast. Oh, and my son Tristan who lent me gas money to tide me over until payday. My financial mess HAS to change. So I guess I'm thankful for declined debit cards to show me I need to be diligent in managing my finances. *sigh*

My family and Ray who pitched in so that my daughter, Maricelle, was able to reach her fundraiser goal. She is now sitting on a plane flying to Panama on a medical missions trip as I write this. Oh, how I envy her!

My Ray, who sent me this awesome video to help me sleep! He really is the Sam Gamgee to my Frodo. LOL! Ray instructed me to listen to the words very carefully and I was blown away! Another priceless treasure!

Stay tuned for next week's scavenger hunt treasures...

OWN IT!

2012-01-05T18:09:00.000-08:00

I posted this photo on Instagram today and wrote: When you find true joy in HIM people will try to take it away from you. Don't allow it. Life is too valuable to function in someone else's dysfunction. Be the wind to change the course of your direction and let HIM guide you.

I have made a gargantuan effort to CHANGE my ways in the new year and to adhere to the resolutions I've made. Within the first hour of 2012 I wished a happy 2012 to the amazing and inspirational photographers I've connected with on Google+. A man by the name of Shayne Cuffy commented with "No, thank you +Nannette Ricaforte make sure whatever defines 2012 as being amazing for you is not based on other people, it needs to be based on your decision, this year must be on your terms. If you want more you need to be more."

Since then his words have hovered within the periphery of my consciousness because the truth cannot be denied. Last year, I allowed others to define my life-my parents, my boyfriend, my kids, my job, my finances, etc. I was operating on a victim mindset without realizing it. "I'm broke therefore I can't have fun." "My dad's sick therefore I can't live my own life." "I'm miserable at my job therefore I can't be happy." "My kids need this or that so forget about my needs." And through it all I lost connection with the ONE source, the only source, of my pure joy. My faith wavered like a flickering candle sitting on a drafty window sill because I allowed others to infiltrate the sacred and holy place inside me. The place that only Jesus can fill.

The people surrounding my life haven't changed. My parents still depend on me to be around for them, my kids still need me, I'm still helping with my granddaughter, and I'm still on a tight budget. But instead of being the perennial victim of my circumstances I am living like a victor. This year will not always be perfect and it will have its low moments but the way I react to these circumstances will define how amazing this year will be. I AM owning 2012 with its challenges and growth.

I know I'm off to a great start and hope you are, too!

RYLEE SAGE TURNS 4!

2012-01-03T22:11:00.000-08:00

Ever since my granddaughter Rylee was born on New Year's Day four years ago our lives have revolved around her on the 1st day of the year. We joke about how popular she is because so many family members want to take care of her that we have to ask her to "pencil us in".

I still remember the time when the light bulb turned on in my dim brain while I was at work and realized my nineteen year old daughter could be pregnant. I had just driven her past Starbucks and asked if she wanted one of those Venti Caramel Macchiatos and she refused. How odd, I thought. And as I sat there at my desk I also realized that my daughter didn't smell like cigarette smoke which should have convinced me immediately but I was still in denial. I did NOT want my child to perpetuate the cycle of teenage pregnancy I began.

But four years have passed since then and our lives have been enriched by the presence of Miss Rylee Sage. She's the little buddy I take everywhere, the little voice that tells me I don't know everything, and the living reminder that unplanned pregnancies are priceless treasures. I've watched her dissolve the most hardened of hearts in the male species, like my dad and Ray to name a few. When Ray and I began dating he was forthright in letting me know how he has no kids for a reason, never wanted any for himself, and didn't want any at all. I secretly laughed at him then because I wasn't trying to foist my granddaughter on him and you can bet that I was NOT looking for a baby daddy! But once they were acquainted they became each others' buddy and the depth of his love for that little girl almost rivals my own.

Although she's not perfect and could be the bossiest and most know-it-all little girl in existence, she continues to bring humility into my life. The simplicity of her reasoning breaks me down into a sheepish human being. I was experiencing one of my silent rages recently when Rylee's keen sense compelled her to approach me and say, "God is in us. He's in us, Gramma." And I silently stared at her with a shamed face as she climbed on my lap and hugged me.

This year, courtesy of Auntie Lu and Stefano, we held an impromptu ice-skating venture for the birthday girl. Her first time on the ice and she loved it! Happy Birthday to my granddaughter, Rylee Sage! Thank you for providing a channel to pour forth the love especially reserved for granddaughters! My life will always be strung with colorful, kaleidoscopic lights because of you!

*All photos taken and edited with my iPhone 4.*

Gramma Nette and Rylee

Mommy and Rylee workin' the ice!

Auntie Lu and Rylee hammin' it up!

Birthday girl scored at PF Changs!

Freezing cold, tired, but happy!

OUT WITH THE OLD

2011-12-31T22:18:00.000-08:00

My neurotic self seems to fully activate at the end of the year when I frantically ensure that nothing from the current year rolls over into the new one. For example, I spent most of last night editing photos from my December portrait sessions and cramming them onto my photography blog. I HAD to get them posted before 2012. This morning I got the haircut I sorely needed after three months of growth. I've always cut my "old" hair before the new year.

But after pausing in my neurotic whirlwind of busyness I remembered to inhale then exhale. The practice of breathing is something I need to incorporate in 2012 since I tend to hold my breath when I'm stressed, agitated, frustrated, depressed, anxious, and tense. For most of 2011 I was all of the above and more. My lack of oxygen perpetuated my unremitting striving, longing, and restlessness always looking for more of what life offered. When I took the photo above it resonated so loudly within me because I related to that woman. I felt the constraints around her and the yearning in her body language spoke to my own. The yearning for whatever it is I sense that there has to be more than what this world can give me. I've felt like a caged bird with clipped wings having no freedom to be herself. Because of my restlessness I turned bitter and sour speaking words of negativity on every aspect of my life. But that was the old me. In less than two hours the world will herald the arrival of the new year and I will discard the muted version of myself that permeated 2011.

In 2012, I will cease in "functioning in my dysfunction" and "I will believe that my time is yet to come and the Creator of the universe is lining up things in my favor: the right people, the right breaks, the right opportunities. (Thanks Joel Osteen for that valuable nugget.) I will choose faith over fear and stop seeking, striving, longing, and yearning when I know HE has my back. Instead of sour patch candy type words pursing my lips I will boldly speak faith-filled and positive words over every facet of my life. I will simply trust in God's plan for me.

Out with the old and in with the new. Happy New Year to all of you! May we all OWN 2012!

Rylee Speak | Part 1

2011-12-30T11:57:00.000-08:00

I've kept a journal for Rylee ever since she was born and it's where I write the things she's done, her progress, how she makes me laugh, what I've learned from her, etc. I plan on giving it to her on her 16th birthday but the journal is never accessible when I need it and time robs me of completing a journal entry. So I have decided to document the things that come out of her mouth on my blog to preserve her innocence forever. I, of all people, know too well how quickly those teenage years taint the purity of childhood and with Rylee I try to savor every moment of being a grandmother.

Yesterday she accompanied me to my doctor appointment because we lacked babysitters. Before we left for my doctor appointment we had a conversation.

Rylee: I will call Mama "grandma" because she's a grandma.

Me: Right, but she's not YOUR grandma, I'm your grandma. She's your great-grandma.

Rylee: (indignant) I know that but she's an old lady so she's a grandma!

Me: But I'm an old lady too.

Rylee: (exasperated and rolling her eyes) You're not an old lady! Mama's an old lady. You're a real lady! You're not pickly! (giggles)

On the drive to my appointment I made her promise to keep quiet when we were in the room and not to interrupt my doctor, run around, or speak loudly. Things were going smoothly. She was whispering when she spoke and sat patiently. But I knew it was going to be short-lived.

Dr. P: So what's up with your shoulder, why the pain? Did you lift something very heavy that you weren't supposed to?

Me: (shaking my head) Ummm...nooooo. Nope.

Rylee: (whispering loudly) Uhhh-huuhhh Gramma Nette, remember when you were carrying me and you fell and we were at Papa Romie's house and you were wearing your high heels?!

Me: (Bug-eyed) (Gritting my teeth) Shhh!

Dr. P: (smiling knowingly)

After my doctor appointment she was in her carseat talking a mile a minute. She proceeded to tell me what she wanted for her birthday.

Rylee: I want Miracle Socks for my birthday, Gramma.

Me: Huh?! Miracle Socks? What's that?

Rylee: (Caressing her legs) They're socks that massage my feet. I want them.

Me: (dumbfounded)

Focus On Blessings

2011-12-29T13:44:00.000-08:00

Last week I exchanged e-mails with my good friend and lamented on my mental and emotional state. "Bean! How could I love God so much and be so unhappy and miserable!?" That night I went to bible study and knew I was done for when the pastor said, "Tonight we are going to talk about how to be happy." It was then that I realized I've been focusing on what I DON'T have, what I can't afford, the gifts I can't buy for my family, how my aunt had a massive stroke and our annual family Christmas party was canceled, how utterly despondent I am at my job, how lame it is that I'm still living with my parents, and my woe-is-me list goes on.

Why is it so difficult for me to be positive and acknowledge my blessings? Why does it have to take a monumental effort on my part to wake up every morning and be grateful for:

the fact that my dad is still alive when we were so sure he wasn't going to make it this Christmas.
my parents' house that is providing a roof over my head.
my aunt's progress and recovery despite the massive stroke she had.
my kids' and grandchild's health.
Ray, who seriously needs an award for having the courage to do life with ME.
a job that's paying my bills.

On Christmas eve I looked around at my family and was simply grateful for their presence. With my brother, his wife and 5 kids, my sister, my kids, Rylee, Ray, and John it was a full house replete with joyful noise. We had a tough year but we are resilient. Although times were difficult there were many golden moments in our lives and I NEED TO FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS on them. It really isn't about the amount of presents that surround the Christmas tree but the love of family that surrounds US. And I am grateful for the crazy people I call "family".

A Mother's Pride

2011-12-19T00:15:00.000-08:00

When I had kids I vowed never to impose the standard Filipino expectations on them to follow a career in the medical field. In the deep recesses of my heart I knew I didn't have it in me to be a nurse so I compromised with my parents and ventured into the pharmacy field. It wasn't my calling; nor was it a passion. It was a necessity.

Imagine my surprise five years ago when my oldest daughter, Maricelle, announced that she was accepted into San Diego State University and was pursuing a career in nursing. More power to her, I thought. I looked forward to her leaving home for college because it would give us a much-awaited respite from each other. Her four years in high school were tumultuous ones with each of us viewing the other as an annoyance. But I was secretly shocked when I felt the gnawing pain of impending loss after we dropped her off at her first apartment adjacent to the SDSU campus. For two weeks afterward I was a depressed, miserable mess and it was a revealing time for me as a mom: I wasn't the hard a$$ I thought I was and missed her terribly.

Last week, Maricelle graduated from the SDSU nursing program and the magnitude of my pride in her is inexpressible. The last 5 years have consisted of many tear-filled, anxiety-ridden, emotionally-charged phone calls from her at any time of day (or night). I've watched her maturity slowly unfold like the delicate petals of a rosebud. She would describe her experiences during nursing rotations and internships while I made sure my impulse to gag/vomit wasn't blatantly obvious. I received many requests to proofread essays, letters, and speeches. We familiarized ourselves with the Amtrak schedules, looked forward to picking her up when she came home to visit, and battled melancholy when we dropped her off to head back to college. Through my daughter I was able to experience the college life I shunned and scorned.

It was only a few days after her graduation when Maricelle's true mettle as a nurse was put on display. We received news that my aunt in San Diego suffered a massive stroke with internal bleeding. After a flurry of phone calls and text messages I found myself playing chauffer as I drove my parents, aunt, and uncle to San Diego late Friday night. I watched as Maricelle asked the nurses questions about the type of stroke my aunt suffered and the words "subarachnoid" and "intercranial" scrambled my brain. She truly is gifted and meant to live life as a nurse which is obviously her calling. In between my desperate prayers of healing for my aunt, I sent a prayer of gratitude for my daughter who wouldn't have to live a life of mediocrity working a job she isn't passionate about. Maricelle possesses the courage to take the leap of faith necessary to pursue her dreams. It is a solid bravery that I never had at her age.

The night of Maricelle's graduation my sister reminded me about the time 24 years ago when I discovered I was pregnant at 19-years-old and decided to keep the baby despite the hailstorm of opposition I faced from my family. For all the parents, especially the single mothers, I would like to encourage you to NEVER give up on your children and to cover them with a quilt woven of prayers, love, and blessings. Even when times are dark and both of you view the other as nemeses I can assure you of the indomitable bond borne out of that darkness. And I can guarantee that at the end of that tunnel of blackness is a radiant, piercingly bright light and we, my daughter and I, are living proof of its glory.

~SPECIAL RECOGNITION~

I am giving my parents, Sally and Eddie, and Maricelle's other grandma, Fe, public recognition and bottomless gratitude for their unconditional love and selfless sacrifices. Maricelle wouldn't be where she is today without them.

MOTHER TO DAUGHTER | BIRTHDAY DECLARATION

2011-12-06T00:00:00.000-08:00

I bought a birthday card for my daughter Maricelle who will officially turn 24 years old at midnight. It wasn't until I was driving home that I realized I always write a birthday blog so why the heck did I buy that card? I was immediately taken with the words "What I learned from my daughter" and the sentiments along with it. So this birthday blog will elaborate on the sentiments excluded on the card.

WHAT I LEARNED FROM MY DAUGHTER...

that forgiveness doesn't have to be long and drawn out. It could be instantaneous, releasing oneself from a self-imposed prison of hatred, resentment, and bitterness.

that having a confrontation with a friend, loved one, or relative doesn't require banishing them from your life. There are ways of resolving conflicts in a mature manner and moving forward in the relationship.

that mother doesn't always know what's best when her own daughter has to knock her upside her head with some good ol' common sense.

that it's okay to display emotion and cry your eyes out. It's not indicative of weakness in someone's character.

that someone describing her as my "mini-me" is actually a compliment to me.

that an adult daughter is the walking equivalent of redemption, reconciliation, and restoration. Despite my past mistakes as a mom she still loves me.

that I can admire her for her passion in nursing. While she helped my dad on the porta potty during his stint in the hospital I was in the corner of the hospital room trying not to pass out and vomit simultaneously.

that your own daughter could take your dreams, breathe life into them, and make them soar better than you can imagine.

Dearest Maricelle,

Thank you for growing into the strong female that you are. I am constantly surprised by my children and you continue to teach me lessons every day. Today, on your 24th birthday, I want you to reflect on the value of your life. It is the gift God and I gave you 24 years ago when people tried to convince me otherwise. I'm proud of you for not treating this gift lightly and for living the purpose that you were meant to live. I can't wait to see what this year will bring and I will be the diligent pupil always learning from you.

Happy Birthday!!!

Love, Mom

SCREW THE RAIN!

2011-11-06T23:57:00.000-08:00

I wasn't going to let something so banal as a rainstorm deter me from fully enjoying my Sunday. I was going to troll the streets of L.A. alone even if thunder and lightning crashed overhead. Fortunately for me my sister, daughter, and granddaughter are afflicted with the adventure bug so off we went to the City of Lost Angels unencumbered by bad mojo, time constraints, and umbrellas. Destination? Ummm...somewhere in L.A. My sister suggested a tea room and Yelp gave me The Chado Tea Room which was ironic because I've driven past it the last 2 weekends. So there was our starting point and our day unfolded pleasantly, seamlessly, and positively. No hating on people, no anger toward anyone, no stress about the time.

Which was actually good for me because I got us lost, as usual, and we ended up in what my sister called "the ghetto" which I begged to differ. But they promptly kicked me out of the driver's seat and banished me to the back. I didn't know the Chado Tea Room required reservations so after putting our name down on the list we headed across the street to Little Tokyo to kill time. Rylee was ecstatic to be with her mommy and surrounded by Hello Kitty paraphernalia. I was double-fisting it with my iPhone in the left hand and the Canon on the right taking photos of anything, everything, and my offspring. I love watching them fall in love with L.A. and we were shocked to discover the hidden gems Little Tokyo offered.

I was going to leave them in Little Tokyo and walk to Occupy L.A. which was only a few blocks away but my sister was down to broaden her horizons. You gotta love my sis. A few weeks ago she sent me a text: BTW, who is Gaddafi? So I knew she had absolutely NO idea what Occupy L.A. entailed. In our family, I'm the "activist" and advocate for social justice. Over the years I've somehow corralled my sister into joining me in my "demonstrations" and a few years ago she participated in The Freeze Project at Hollywood/Highland. Even if she didn't fully comprehend the cause she was fighting for she came to support me.Today was no different.

I was able to take photos to my heart's content while walking in the midst of Occupy L.A. I was proud of Chloe for making the decision to remain behind with Rylee at Starbucks. It was evident of her maturity as a mom and although I would have taken Rylee to the site it probably wouldn't have been a good idea. When we drove past it she cried out, "ooohhh, look at all the pretty tents! I wanna go there!" While my sis and I walked the perimeter of Occupy L.A. I heard a voice from within a tent call out "Whose team are you on?!" My sister said she would have replied, "TEAM EDWARD!" LOL! I wasn't able to meet or speak to anyone but overall the atmosphere was somewhat orderly. We witnessed one African-American male being escorted by police with his hysterical girlfriend running after them. It was at this point that it finally dawned on my sister that if a riot ensued we could be inadvertently arrested. That was my cue to exit Occupy L.A. It is one thing to be involved but something entirely different if I jeopardize my sister's welfare.

We ended our adventure at The Chado Tea Room and I highly recommend this place. The Brendan's Chai tea was like liquid comfort pooling in my belly and the food was delicious and not too pricey. It was the perfect ending to a fun-filled Sunday that was not marred by rain or bad mojo.

PHOTOS OF OCCUPY L.A.

PHOTOS OF RYLEE

SURREAL TREATS

2011-10-31T23:30:00.000-07:00

I had another surreal moment tonight when my role as a grandma superimposed itself against the mother role. The sensation is similar to what I would imagine an out-of-body experience is like. I have patiently waited for Rylee's Halloween as a three-year-old because I believe it's the age when a child fully comprehends trick-or-treating for the first time while enjoying it with pure innocence. After a long and excruciating Monday at work and an even more excruciating commute home I had absolutely no desire to walk around the neighborhood. But I am no stranger to the hyper speed passage of time especially in regards to children so I bucked up and shut up. I couldn't miss my only granddaughter's first real Halloween.

We had a mini photo shoot before she went out to collect her Halloween bounty and I tried to ask, then ordered, her to wear a jacket but she was adamant about not wearing one. Her bottom lip quivered and tears pooled in her eyes, "But I want to look beautiful in my costummmmmmmme!" Oh brother! She also insisted on wearing her pink plastic princess heels instead of tennis shoes but Chloe and I were exhausted from work and gave in. We're suckers, I know.

It wasn't until we hit the neighborhood and walked up to the first house that I had my surreal moment. When she held my hand and followed me up the walkway I looked down at her and a memory of my children at her age trick-or-treating in the same neighborhood materialized in front of me. The familiar sting of nostalgia and melancholy pierced my gut while I shook my head in disbelief. How did I get here so darn fast? With my camera slung across my body I walked behind my daughter and granddaughter documenting their own memories of trick-or-treating. I wondered when these moments would cease being surreal and if my heart's age will ever catch up to my numbered one.

Flying Fairy

Popcorn is her favorite!

CLOSE TO HEAVEN

2011-10-29T19:53:00.000-07:00

I recently read a book where a character expounded on his belief that heaven and hell are states of consciousness deep within us. It was one sentence in a book that I vaguely paid attention to but in recent weeks the words have badgered my brain. I immerse myself in prayer because it is the only thing that sustains me twenty-four hours a day. Even in slumber I know my spirit is deep in prayer because I cannot disconnect myself from the circuitry that keeps me sane and human. Lately, most of my prayers consist of cries of anguish, despair, and torment. Sometimes I wonder if God has both hands covering his ears and thinking, "Oh stop! Stop it already! ENOUGH!" It is only in my waking moments that I am consciously aware to praise God for my blessings. I force myself to enumerate those blessings to swing my focus away from the negative.

I told my friend that I didn't mature and grow up when I had children or when I became a grandmother. I reluctantly grew up when my dad's health deteriorated this year and the indomitable father I once had became a frail, old, sickly man. Every day I feel like I'm juggling a bowling pin, an apple, and a golf ball while standing on one leg with my eyes blindfolded and one arm tied behind my back. I could deal with my grown kids and their needs or my granddaughter and her needs or my sister and her needs or my boyfriend and his needs but I am helpless under the weight of my parents' dependency on me. My parents have never asked me for anything but when they ask that I accompany them to my dad's doctor appointments or trips to the emergency room I know their requests aren't made in vain.

On the days that I am in the office at work I have many moments of panic and anxiety. I remember the innumerable nights I've spent in the emergency room with my sick kids and the recent hospitalization of my dad holds much more desperation than the latter. Insensitive people have reminded me that this is the cycle of life. Yeah, no sh*t. Those same people have graciously added that health care just plain sucks. Really? You mean the words "health" joined with "care" is an oxymoron? I often wonder what their reaction would be when THEIR turn comes to care for aging parents?

Thus, the hell I live daily.

To combat my hell I've learned to seek my heaven. In Joel Osteen's book, It's Your Time, he talks about staying away from negative people. "You shouldn't go to lunch every day with somebody who is always crying the blues and talking about how bad the economy is. You can't do that without it affecting you." Those words were like musical notes to my deprived eyes. On the days I work in the office I've decided to take advantage of my close proximity to the beach and utilize my lunch break to run/jog/walk there. Alone. It is as close to heaven as I can get. And for the rest of the day my spirit is at peace unfettered by negativity, anxiety, and fear. I am reminded to choose Faith over fear.

I use my Nike+ application on my iPhone to track the miles during my runs and to snap photos for my Year of the Instagram Photo A Day project.

A TURTLE LESSON

2011-10-26T00:52:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday, on October 23rd, Ray and I stole an afternoon for ourselves to commemorate the 3rd year of our "reconnection." I'm not big on anniversaries of the unwed kind but October 23 is as significant as my children's and Rylee's birth dates. It marks the beginning of something that was meant to be. And I say "stole an afternoon" because between Ray taking care of his mom and my being available for my parents we hardly have time for each other AND ourselves these days.

We headed toward L.A. because 1) I <3 L.A., 2) we wanted to go to Chinatown, 3) we wanted to check out Occupy L.A., and 4) I itched to do my street photography. For a few hours we abandoned our troubles, worries, and stress to enjoy the day and our togetherness. It might have been the carefree attitude that ignited my impulsive nature to purchase two baby turtles for Rylee. We walked past an Asian man selling two baby turtles for $5 and I thought I would gain cool grandma points with Rylee if we gave her a pet. She's been asking for a dog, a hamster, and a rabbit. Two turtles? Nooooooo problemo! Easy-peasy! As usual, I was wrong! Oh, SO VERY wrong!

There was no denying her excitement when we brought home the turtles...

or her wonderment...she named them Summer and Leah...

and the turtles looked pretty keen on their new home...

She couldn't stop watching them...

It wasn't until I noticed that they weren't eating the food we bought that I decided to research on the Internet on how to care for turtles. What I discovered made my stomach burn with acid. This is what I found on turtle care:

It is often thought that turtles do not require much care because it looks like they just lie around or swim all day. However this is far from the truth. Turtles like most reptiles require a specific diet and living environment depending upon their age and species type. This is why it is not good to give a turtle as a novelty pet.

The buyer should be aware that pet turtles can spread salmonella which is common for pet turtles to have. It is very crucial for you to wash your hands after every time you pick up a turtle. This is a reason why pet turtles should not be kept around an expecting family, one with small children, elderly adults, or anyone with an immune system problems.

You should also plan a visit with a reptile specialist sometime within the first year and every year after that. Keeping your turtle in check with a vet is your new friend’s best defense against possible diseases. A reptile vet specialist will be able to recommend any changes in diet as well as things to look out for.

When the words "vet", "salmonella", "reptile specialist", and "specific diet' assaulted my eyes I knew I was doomed and was going to break my granddaughter's heart! The word "vet" flashed these signs at me ---->>>> $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$. I could barely afford my monthly prescriptions so how could I afford to take two turtles to the vet, buy an aquarium tank, and provide mealworms and other turtle dietary needs? Who knew?! I also read that I wasn't supposed to pick up the turtles or change their water when you brought them home but Ray did exactly that before we presented them to Rylee.

It is now Day 3 and I had to separate the turtles since one was dominating the other and both are lethargic and obviously sick. When I explained to Rylee that Summer and Leah were sick, she looked up at me with those huge limpid eyes and asked, "Turtle medicine?" I apologized for not having any turtle medicine and in her three-year-old baby voice I hear, "I have medicine I take when I'm sick so I can give it to them." I didn't think it was possible for my heart to splinter in a million sharp slivers. If I could beat myself up I would for putting Rylee through this.

In conclusion...heck, I have no conclusion, except the fact that I continue to learn a lesson in curbing my impulsive nature. I just didn't think it would come in the form of two baby turtles!

MOTHER TO DAUGHTER | BIRTHDAY PRAYERS

2011-10-20T09:54:00.000-07:00

It’s been a year since I began the tradition of writing a birthday blog for my kids, Ray,and Rylee. I started with Chloe’s 22^nd birthday and my brain isincapable of wrapping itself around the fact that she has reached anothermilestone. At 23 I was a wife and mother of three rugrats under five-years-old.I have fervently prayed that my children wouldn’t perpetuate my actions that myknees have worn out. I thank God every day that Chloe is Rylee’s mom and Rylee’s mom ONLY.

DearChloe,

In thepast year I’ve watched you with bated breath, surprise, and admirationinterspersed with a few twinges of disappointment. Watching you mothering Ryleeis like watching a daily movie reel of my own triumphs and failures ofparenting. It's like a daily reminder of what I could have, should have, would have, done! I can honestly say that I am proud to see you doing it better. Iknow that being a young single mom isn’t easy and the road you’ve chosen isn’tpaved with gold. The rewards aren’t forthcoming and accolades aren’t doled outlike ecstasy at a rave. As your Mom I always want to fix things but I also knowyou must Live and Learn. I don't expect you to walk the walk sans mistakes but I DO expect you to learn from them, move forward, and elevate yourself to the next level.

For your23^rd year I bestow these prayers on you. They are powerful andinvaluable so they can't be squandered.

I praythat you will continue to do your best to be Rylee’s mommy. She loves you somuch and you’re both blessed to have each other.

I praythat you grow, mature, and rise above the broken pieces of your heart; for whenthose pieces are rebuilt a stronger one emerges with more resilience andwisdom.

I praythat you will always strive to excel in ALL your endeavors, challengingyourself to become a better version of yourself.

I praythat you will find the balance of being a responsible Mom with enjoying Life. Idon’t expect you to play it safe all the time or not take risks.

I praythat Fear has no hold on you and that it doesn’t asphyxiate the boldness ofyour dreams. It’s okay to take the unconventional path as long as you don’t getmired in complacency.

I praythat your mind will open to the truth of this world and that your eyes see clearlythe lies you’ve been told. Freedom is not of this world.
I pray that you don't lost your sense of humor during those moments of insanity, frustration, and hopelessness.

I praythat you will see and listen to Rylee’s love, spirit, character, insecurities,voice, and tears with a discerning heart so that you will speak blessings overher and build her up. Protect and guide her always.

And lastly,I pray that yours and Rylee’s hearts will always align with the Father who knewand created you. If you seek Him always, your darkness will always havesunlight, the storms will eventually turn to tranquil waters, and despair willtransform to hope.

HAPPY 23, CHLOE! MAKE IT SHINE!

HOMAGE TO THE HOMIES

2011-09-28T00:26:00.000-07:00

One night last week in the midst of my season of uncertainty I received a text from my friend. The words on my phone flashed like a neon sign in the darkness illuminating the secret fear glowing inside me. She was listening to the song Friends by Band of Skulls while driving from Chicago and missed me. I love that song and the sentiment she extended temporarily dissipated the dense fog occupying my brain space. She had no idea of the runaway roller coaster I've been riding in. I needed that abstraction of nostalgia to remind me of the present; to saturate myself in it instead of projecting into the what-ifs of the future.

My other friend, M, loves to share music on her blog and is always posting music videos so in honor of her, my friend Michen who was driving from Chicago, and the lovely others who have extended their love, thoughts, and prayers during this season of uncertainty (you all know who you are), I salute you with Friends! I don't deserve any of you but I'm blessed to call you "friend."

'Friends' by Band Of Skulls- Watch more Videos at Vodpod.

JUST CALL ME IDIOT

2011-09-24T01:39:00.000-07:00

Ray is always right and I HATE it. It chafes my sensibilities. And no, I did NOT lose a bet that prompted me to write this entry. But I DID almost lose my sanity and a $2,000 lens if my "voice of reason" didn't penetrate my wall built of stubbornness and pride. I am posting this entry and divulging my idiocy to help those victimized by fraud.

Earlier this week I put my beloved Canon 85mm 1:2L lens for sale on Amazon. By the time I woke up the next morning I had received an e-mail, supposedly from Amazon, inquiring on the lens. The e-mail looked legit and I didn't question the validity of it because it came from "Amazon Marketplace". I wish I could blame my idiocy and lack of wisdom on the fatigue I experienced from having to take my dad into the emergency room that same morning but who am I fooling, really? This is the e-mail I received:

I responded to this "Rita Bean" in good faith telling her that my lens was in excellent condition and was barely used. Her response was this:

And in a matter of a few hours I received the following two e-mails after I responded that I would not send the lens until payment was confirmed:

Nothing in these e-mails indicated that the transaction was bogus. When I received these e-mails I had already spent almost half a day in the emergency room waiting for my dad's test results. Desperation from selling my lens mingled with the frustration of healthcare that I was operating on minimal brain cells. But that is NO excuse.

Ray called and texted me repeatedly with his concerns and warnings. True to form I was highly irritated and indignant with him and his lack of faith in my intelligence. "Look, I KNOW you know. But I'm just saying it doesn't sound right. Please be careful. Do NOT send the lens until you make sure!" He didn't see the rolling of my eyes and the exasperated tugging of my hair as he expressed his concerns and warnings on the phone. I told him that the e-mails looked legit and that I'd have to get my lens packaged by the end of the day to send to Nigeria.

Okay, the word "Nigeria" should have rung alarm bells in my head so loudly it would have deafened me. But oh no. Noooooo. I couldn't get past my EGO! I was more offended that my own boyfriend didn't trust in my judgment. I was more focused on the fact that I hated a man telling me what to do so how dare he, Mr. Know-IT-ALL, harp on me so relentlessly knowing full well that I was dealing with my dad in the emergency room. And this--my headstrong, pigheaded, obstinate self-has always been my problem. I know, I'm working on it. But as I sat there in that miserable and freezing cold emergency room lobby in Kaiser Permanente I kept thinking about Ray's track record of being right. I sat there remembering how he has ALWAYS told me that I tend to move forward so fast when I want things done that I don't stop to think about the ramifications. I sat there telling myself to stop being so stupid and listen to him. Ugh! He sent me the following text:

"...please listen to me. I know u know everything. Please triple check. Nigeria is the country that most of the mail fraud originates. Can u at least call Amazon to get a verbal? Get Verbal. Sounds like a scam to me. Love you!"

So just to shut him up I called Amazon and then I really shut up! Here is what I learned:

Amazon does NOT deliver to Nigeria.
Amazon order #s do NOT begin with "7001".
Nannette IS a stubborn a$$ fool!

I promptly reported this incident to Amazon and never responded to the additional e-mails I received today from this "Rita Bean" who was requesting a tracking number because payment has been made. It sickens me to know that I was so desperate for the extra money that it overrode my common sense. Why did it have to take my boyfriend to knock me upside my head? I know most of you possess an abundance of common sense, street smarts, and functioning brain cells but I urge you not to emulate MY loss of intelligence. Beware, be careful, and be vigilant on the internet.

***To Ray, thank you for being my voice of reason and I...I...ap..apolo...apologize for being so stubborn. Yes, you DID save me from peril.***

In memory of 9/11

2011-09-11T04:00:00.000-07:00


Mt. Soledad, San Diego, CA

I don't know anyone who doesn't have a memory of where they were or what they were doing that fateful morning on September 11, 2001. Images of the World Trade Center's Twin Towers burning from 2 airplanes used as weapons of terror are forever seared into our minds. I won't waste words on the obvious. Ten years haven't diluted the horror from watching so many lives lost and wasted that morning. Today I join our nation in remembering and honoring the lost and the fallen. God bless America.

CHILDHOOD CANCER AWARENESS MONTH

2011-09-10T01:02:00.000-07:00

I saw this on my friend, M's, blog and wanted to pass it on as a reminder that stalwart soldiers come in small forms. I encourage you to do your part in the fight against Cancer.
Nursing classes that areonline are an option for those who want to help children with cancer.

M also included the following letter from our President, Barack Obama.

The White House

Office of the Press Secretary
For Immediate Release
September 01, 2011
Proclamation for Release - National Childhood Cancer Awareness Month, 2011

Across America, thousands of courageous children fight pediatric cancer each year, facing life‑threatening battles that would challenge men and women of any age. They are cared for by loving families, friends, and communities who band together to support children in times of great need. From raising money for research and hospital stays to offering compassionate assistance to families who have lost loved ones, Americans are working every day to combat childhood cancer.

Today, research advances have made pediatric cancer more treatable than ever before. The five‑year survival rate for young patients has risen to 80 percent in the past half century, but serious challenges remain. Children who survive cancer frequently struggle with significant complications later in life and researchers are working to develop treatments specifically for pediatric cancer. We still know too little about the causes in young people, and cancer remains the leading cause of death by disease for children in America under the age of 15.

As we work to better understand and combat these destructive diseases, my Administration is working to lift some of the burden on families affected by them. Because of the Affordable Care Act, insurance companies can no longer deny insurance to children because of pre‑existing conditions, meaning that children who are currently suffering from or have survived cancer must be covered. Insurance companies are also banned from rejecting insurance for children participating in clinical studies, in which the vast majority of children with cancer take part. And the Affordable Care Act prohibits insurance companies from imposing lifetime dollar limits on health benefits ‑‑ freeing cancer patients and their families from worry of long‑term treatment affordability. Meanwhile, the National Cancer Institute continues to conduct and fund research on the causes of these diseases, linking research on genetics and adult cancers to more effective treatments for children.

Too many children and their families have faced the harmful effects of cancer. In memory of the young lives taken from us far too soon, and in honor of the families who stood beside them, we continue to support researchers, doctors, and advocates working to improve treatments, find cures, and reach a tomorrow where all our children can lead full and healthy lives.

NOW, THEREFORE, I, BARACK OBAMA, President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and the laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim September 2011 as National Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. I also encourage all Americans to join me in reaffirming our commitment to fighting childhood cancer.

IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand this first day of September, in the year of our Lord two thousand eleven, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and thirty-sixth.

BARACK OBAMA

THIRTEEN POINT ONE! DISNEY HALF MARATHON!

2011-09-05T15:27:00.000-07:00

I DID IT! 13.1 = Victory!

Running and finishing the Disney Half Marathon yesterday morning was more than just an accomplishment it was a sweet conquest. In the spring of 2010, I joined Team In Training to raise money for Leukemia and Lymphoma while training for the Nike Women's San Francisco Half Marathon. Unfortunately, I didn't raise the amount required to run the race and I couldn't pay the rest out of pocket which resulted in a forfeit. But raising money was a personal thing for me and for those who made donations. My friend Melissa had learned that her friend, Michelle Carranza, a mother of young children, was diagnosed with Leukemia. Another friend of mine, Sheryl, gave a donation in memory of her cousin, Jennifer Rongduen Villanueva, who passed away from Leukemia. There was also my own list of people who have fallen victim to the choking tentacles of cancer, one of them being my sister-in-law, Elna Flores Cea, who was only thirty-four years old when she passed away from Ovarian cancer in 2008.

Nursing masters programs are what some people look into to learn how to help people with
leukemia.

I took these stories and the people who gave donations very seriously. I couldn't take "no" for an answer and not raising enough money to run my race with Team In Training shouldn't hinder me from running for my friends who donated money. So I registered for the Long Beach Half Marathon and continued my training for the next couple of months. A week before the race in October, I went running, then paddle boarded with my sister. The next day I could barely walk from throwing out my back and pleaded with my doctor to fix me because I had a race to run in less than 5 days! The pity I saw from my doctor's eyes spoke volumes and I barely heard her placating tone, "OH honey, honeyyy, nooooo. You won't be running for a while." I felt like I let my friends down. Although, I did stop running for many months I secretly harbored a plan to run another half marathon, determined to honor my friends and their stories. I was going to make it happen, somehow, someway. I pity the fool who tells me I can't do something!

Three weeks ago, my cousins told me about their friend, Rachel, who registered for the Disney Half Marathon but was looking for someone to take her place since she had a prior engagement. There was my golden ticket! I haven't actually been training for a half marathon but was running/walking with Ray almost every day for the last 2 months. On the days when I needed to run longer than 2 miles I'd head off by myself running different routes I've planned out in the city. I knew I could run the Disney Half Marathon and run it I did!

I cried when I ran over the finish line and again when that medal was placed around my neck. I know my body's limitations so my goal wasn't to run the race in the fastest time, it was to cross that finish line. After the 10th mile I was worried because my knees were giving out on me. I had a support around my right knee but not the left. From Mile 11 to the finish line I was doing some weird side-shift-hobble-limp-run-walk. I wasn't fatigued but my knees were protesting with a vengeance and I had to force myself to walk. By Mile 12, doubt crept in my head about whether or not I could finish but I thought about Michelle's fight with Leukemia and the myriad of cancer patients I've known. My knee pain was only a minor irritant in comparison to what they've experienced in the gruesome face of cancer. So I kept moving forward until I saw the Disney characters cheering us on under the banner that said, "FINISH". I didn't walk or hobble toward them, I RAN, with my hands raised high in victory!

Those 13.1 miles through the city of Anaheim represented honor for Michelle Carranza who received a bone marrow transplant last December and is now cancer free (praise God!); for Sheryl's cousin, Jennifer Rongduen Villanueva, who passed away from Leukemia, and for the people who believed in me and donated to my cause last year: James Lee, the Hirota family, Radhany Tap, Nelyn Ricaforte, Jenny Scruggs, Janice Simon, Sheryl Magbual, DM&K Baron, Darrin O'Brien, and Russ & Megumi Bermejo. Your generosity was never forgotten and I am eternally grateful for you.

And a very special thanks to those who helped me check off the Disney Half Marathon from my "to-run" bucket list: Jesyl/Jeff Rodrigo, Rachel De La Cruz, and Ernie Trinidad! Thank you, thank you, thank you for letting me do this! I thought it was HILARIOUS that I was wearing Rachel's race bib and couldn't figure out why people would yell, "Go Rachel! You can do it!" when I ran by. HAAAA! It was THE FUNNEST race I have participated in and the beautiful medal made the pain completely worth it!

My heartfelt gratitude to my boyfriend, Ray, who cheered and encouraged me through his texts along the way and for indulging me when I refused to take off my awesome medal later that day.

When I ran my first half marathon, Surf City Huntington Beach, in 2009, I was dying after mile 10. An older woman ran past me with a bright yellow shirt. On the back was printed Philippians 4:13. It was exactly what I needed to finish that race. This man happened to be standing in front of me in Corral D while we waited for the Disney Half Marathon to begin and it was a reminder that I was not alone. I soon lost sight of him after half a mile putting me to shame!

The beauty of running the Disney Half Marathon is getting to take photos with the Disney characters. I took this for my granddaughter, Rylee, who LOVES Phineas and Ferb!

I <3 Russell!

I'm a sucker for bad boys!


Because the first mile is always the hardest.

Mile 10-my nemesis!

From Disneyland to the Honda Center through Angel Stadium and back! 13.1!

Surreal Moments

2011-08-19T20:22:00.000-07:00

I always find myself encapsulated in surreal moments when the lines of reality blurs into an abstract dream. I can imagine Dorothy having this bizarre feeling when she found herself traipsing through oz. Taking my twenty-two year old daughter to LAX (Los Angeles Airport) with my granddaughter in the back seat was one of those phantasmagoric moments.

It was Chloe's first time to fly on a plane and for most of her life she has experienced this weird fear of flying. When her best friend bought her a plane ticket to spend a weekend in San Francisco, Chloe was simultaneously nervous and excited. On the way to the airport I went down my to-do list, what-not-to-do list, and be-careful-of-this list for her. I acted like she was going to kindergarten for the first time again.

"Do you have your I.D.?"

"Yes, Mother!"

"Where's your purse? Why aren't you bringing one? You need one!"

"I don't want one!"

"You won't be drinking on the plane, right?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You gotta take off those bracelets. They won't let you through with them."

"Duh, I know."

"Men are going to try to talk to you. You better watch out!"

(Silence from her but I felt the rolling of her eyes.)

"Okay, you gotta be alert at all times so you know what gates to be at."

"Yes! I know."

Okay, can I get any more annoying? I was annoying myself but I couldn't help it. Who WAS I? Wasn't it MY turn to go on an adventure? Why was I taking my grown daughter to the airport and how come I sounded like a nagging shrew? Chloe is 22 but I was still worried for her welfare and as I was driving on the 105 freeway I had a silent conversation with myself. "Shut up, Nannette. Just let her be. She'll be fine. She's not stupid. She's AN ADULT!" But then she let out a little shriek that startled Rylee and me. Chloe was nervous and it was palpable. I released my built up tension by laughing at her exuding a pseudo bravado that I hoped would transfer over. And then she did something that completely shocked me but I kept my face devoid of emotion. She turned off the radio and asked that I prayed for her safety before I forgot. It was her unmasked vulnerability that placed me in a dreamlike state. So I prayed out loud for her safety while Rylee sat in her car seat drinking apple juice from a box, loudly slurping through a straw. For a second that seemed to last an eternity I had two toddlers in the car that needed my protection.

When I parked in front of the terminal and snapped shots of Chloe embarking on her first plane ride I realized that motherhood is a constant process of letting go. Despite their transition into adulthood, a mother's concern for her children never disappear. I watched her kiss and hug Rylee goodbye that mirrored a similar ritual of letting go.

And so it goes...

In this picture she eerily reminds me of her Auntie Elna who passed away 3 years ago.

Counting Pennies

2011-08-07T13:35:00.000-07:00

We've all heard the old adage, "See a penny pick it up then all day you'll have good luck." Well, I learned at a tender age that it is pure unadulterated b.s. I was a third-grader in my Inglewood elementary school when I saw a penny, picked it up, and believed good fortune would favor me until midnight. Wrong! The school bullies intensified their relentless assault and I was sent home with a busted lip. Since that delusional day those shiny copper discs sporting Abe Lincoln's profile on one side represented my naivete and helplessness. Heads, you're dumb and tails, you lose.

(Those with online accounting degrees as well as the rest of us certainly understand the
value of a penny or dollar.)

Imagine the agitation I felt upon learning the most difficult lesson at 43 years old: counting pennies will keep you debt-free, stress-free, and worry-free. The numerous years of emotional overspending finally caught up to me like bounty hunters capturing an elusive fugitive. My financial stewardship was haphazard in the nine years that I was a struggling single mom raising three kids. I had no control (or concept) over budgeting and my best financial wisdom was buying items on sale, shopping at 99 cent stores, and frequenting thrift shops. I bought into my interpretation of the "American dream"-build credit and rack up your debt by amassing all the material things you think you need to make you look good as you keep up with the Joneses. Well, no more.

This year I have drastically altered my spending behavior and I'm watching my financial output with microscopical precision. My friend lent me Dave Ramsey's book, Total Money Makeover, and my head exploded with enlightenment and shame. Basically, it taught me how to beat debt, take control of my money, and adhere to a budget. At the point where I was in my life I had no choice but to take action. My before and after snapshot looks like this:

Shopping

Before: I was an emotional shopper. Depressed? I went shopping. Excited? I went shopping. Despondent? I went shopping. Apathetic? Oh man, did I go shopping. I never wore an outfit twice and my closet was full of clothes with tags still on them. If I liked a top I'd buy it in every color. I charged, spent, and debited clothes at Buffalo Exchange: the store where I could creatively build an outfit that expressed my style. I was never one to buy an outfit that was displayed in a store window. And I justified my expenditure by convincing myself that vintage thrift shops were saving me an exorbitant amount of money. I patted myself on the back for not being a designer label wench.

After: I've closed all of my credit cards and the beast of my emotional shopping has been decapitated. I've learned to channel my negative emotions solely into running. I avoid malls, strip malls, Buffalo Exchange, Forever 21, H & M, and friends who have a weakness for shopping. Each paycheck I put away a fixed amount into an Emergency Fund which is the first step in Dave Ramsey's Total Money Makeover. My outfits are now worn on a pretty regular basis. If I notice the emotional trigger to shop is too intense then I derail my impulsive shopping by secretly pilfering my daughter's closet and borrow HER clothes. Although, my granddaughter usually throws me under the bus with her tattling.

Entertainment

Before: I said yes to all my friends who wanted to go out, enjoy life, and have fun. Gas in my car was no problem. Girls' nights out to clubs, lounges, bars, restaurants, cafes-I was there! Cool events in L.A.-I was there! Call me up at 11 p.m. for an impromptu night out in L.A.-I was out the door in half an hour! Concerts? They are my weakness and I paid for every band I wanted to rock out to.

After: My social life is now contingent upon my gas tank and the words "no" and "sorry" have become a familiar refrain uttered from my mouth. The only girls' nights out I have are the ones I spend with my granddaughter. And the only time I step foot in a club or lounge is when I get in free because my boyfriend is the DJ. I am relegated to living vicariously through my daughters when they go see Muse or Rage Against The Machine or Deadmau5. It pains me but my budget has no room for concerts at the moment.

Fitness

Before: 24 Hour Fitness gyms were my second home. I converted from Bally's to 24 Hour Fitness ten years ago and have been working out 2, 3, sometimes 4 times a week for years. I'm addicted to endorphins and they empower me. Nothing makes me feel more feminine than exercising, eating healthy, and taking care of my physical self because it results in emotional and mental well-being. I worked out at the gym when I was 8 months pregnant with my first child and 23 years ago that was still frowned upon. People made fun of me but I didn't care. I've discovered that exercising is also the BEST and most inexpensive anti-depressant.

After: I cancelled my beloved gym membership and mourned that loss as if I lost my home. However, I've become quite savvy in finding ways to working out sans high-tech gym equipment. The outside world is now my gym and I created different running routes around my city. I found stairs to run up and down on for my leg workout. And for my upper body I've gone back the old fashioned way with modified push-ups and planks. I've also taken over my boyfriend's weight bench and dumbbells to pump my body full of endorphins.

These are only a few of the drastic, life-altering changes I've made to my financial behavior but they come with a price, both agonizing and beneficial. So my journey of Total Money Makeover continues and counting pennies will soon become a habit. I CAN be debt-free but it's up to me and my self-control and discipline. I just have to be sure that I don't lose my sense of humor along the way.

Mother to Son-My Birthday Sentiment

2011-07-30T01:35:00.000-07:00

My son, Tristan, and I on our Maui trip in 2008. Guess who looks like they're having so much fun?

Today my youngest child, my son, turned twenty-years-old. I experienced a multitude of emotions but as I reflected on the past twenty years I realized that a mother's love is an equal mixture of pain and love. 50% love for an only son that I am incredibly proud of and 50% pain from the longing I have for us to be closer. We used to be best buds, he and I, but as it is with all mothers we have to pass the proverbial ritual of letting go. Mama's boys are not attractive and this I know from experience. But during the letting go process I made mistakes, some monumental, that drove a wedge between my son and me. These mistakes haunt me in the middle of the night like spectral images behind my closed eyelids. I can't pinpoint the exact moment when our lives shifted and we transitioned into strangers. Lately, the moments we spend together have a distinct air of acquaintances being forced to interact with each other and I wonder if the sound of my breaking heart penetrates the wall he's put up between us. I'm often told that all twenty-something year-old sons act distant and will eventually come to their senses. As I patiently wait I try not to punish myself by accepting penance. Do all mothers experience this torment?

When I learned that I was pregnant with Tristan I was twenty-three years old with two little girls in the toddler stage and suffering in an abusive marriage. I could have chosen to take the easy way out and decided to be rid of the baby but that wasn't my style. I took responsibility for my actions and faced the consequences but I mentally denied that he was growing inside me. And maybe it was the ambivalence I carried along with my unborn child for 9 months that led me to this time of penance twenty years later. Everyone told me my third pregnancy would be easy and quick, that labor would be a piece of cake since I've already given birth twice. Stupid me believed them. But Tristan proved them wrong when he was the longest, most difficult, and extremely painful birth. Even then I felt I deserved it and refused pain medication as a sick form of self-flagellation. Lame, I know.

The night he was born I held him in my arms and wept for hours asking him to forgive me. Tears saturated his newborn skin running in rivulets down his chest and creating pathways of my pleading to his little heart. "Forgive mommy's stupid selfishness and pride, I will make it up to you the rest of your life. I promise. Just please forgive me." It is the same refrain in every mother's heart whose abiding love for her son forces her to face mistakes with contrition.

I refuse to give up and will continue to build a bridge of hope and redemption with painstaking care from my heart to his. I am holding on to the belief that one day he will realize that even though I'm not the world's perfect mom the love and respect I have for him are. And a mom's perfect love and respect for her twenty-year-old son are invaluable compared to the iPhone 5 he asked for. Happy Birthday, Trey!

Since I don't have videos of my kids I spent my quiet time of reflection today by perusing pictures from our Maui trip in 2008. Only two of my kids were able to join me but I'm grateful that Tristan was there to make memories. Watching my children grow makes time appear ethereal.

Tristan with his sister Maricelle and I.

My gentle giant. He refused to venture out and enjoy the beach with us until our last day in Maui which makes this photo priceless.

Another priceless picture with Tristan. He's smiling.

Mom loves you Trey. Maybe next time YOU can take your old mom on a vacation! HA!

Rylee Wishes

2011-07-25T22:54:00.000-07:00

We spent a summer Sunday afternoon having "Gramma Nette and Rylee time" at our special place-the Cerritos Library. I had high hopes that she'd cool off by running through the water at the dolphin fountain, relishing in the hallmarks of summer like most of the kids that afternoon. But my stubborn granddaughter refused. I forgot to bring her bathing suit and she didn't want her clothes soaked. I never know whether I'm getting the girlie-Rylee or the tomboy-Rylee so I just rolled with it. She preoccupied herself with the koi pond instead and asked for a penny to make a wish. I gave her 3 pennies and these were her wishes:

(Online accredited universities have education classes) for people who love kids and want to become teachers.)

Wish #1: "I'm wishing that my mommy will give me a present."

Wish #2: "I'm wishing that my mommy will be excited when I see her."

Wish #3: "I'm wishing that I will make my mommy so proud of her."

To my precocious grandchild, Gramma Nette's wishing you will never stop believing that wishes do come true.

Google+ and Me

2011-07-18T00:54:00.000-07:00

I'm baaaaaaaackkkkk! But not quite and it's lovely. Ten months ago I pressed the delete and/or deactivate button on all social networking sites I got sucked into like a Dyson vacuum. As recent as a few days ago I ran into a friend who asked, "What the heck happened to you?! You dropped off the face of the earth!" I almost responded, "No, I just dropped off of Facebook." (If you care to know why you can read it here, if not, move along...)

Since then I've had numerous people tell me I was making a big mistake and hurting my photography business by not having a Facebook fan page. Several times I've sat in front of my computer attempting to create one and couldn't stomach it. I know a business fan page is different from a personal FB account but I was incredibly leery of anything connected to Facebook. I suppose I approached it the way I do with all my relationships. Once I'm done I. Am. Done. There is no going back.

Then I heard about Google+ and I perked up. It was like meeting a potential date several months after you've extricated yourself out of a highly-dysfunctional relationship. I was intrigued by a recent article about Google+ and the appeal it might have for those who are looking to start over. (Raising my hand and pointing at me.) The CNN article called it a "social reboot" and you could read about it here.

I already knew that I would use Google+ strictly for my photography business and last week I was finally invited by my friend. It didn't take that long for me to maneuver my way around it and I was relieved and ecstatic to see that it was made just for me!

Why Google+ is the "cheese to my macaroni":

I confess that I am a shameless compartmentalizer. I compartmentalize everything in my life, especially people. You will never see me mix crowds. One set of friends do not know another set of friends. So Google+ and its circle concept is brilliant! I have created several circles already. And the beauty of it is, when I want to share or post something it doesn't need to be disseminated to everyone and their mama. I have control over who sees what! (Have I also mentioned my insatiable need to control things? I'm working on it.)

There are NO annoying friend requests. I don't have to feel guilty for ignoring a friend request from a co-worker or family member. One difficult lesson I learned is accepting friend requests from co-workers past and present. Big no-no! I don't have to hear, "Hey, what's up?! How come you ignored my friend request?" Or, "Why did you delete/block me from Facebook? WHY?! Why?!" I also learned the hard way that being honest with people and telling them my reasons only created more drama, not to mention long-winded posts on my Facebook wall. It never bothered me when people deleted or blocked me from Facebook so it boggled my mind to know that I offended many when I did a full sweep of my friends list. Instead of friend requests, Google+ allows people to add me to their circles but I don't have to add them. And vice-versa. Can I get an amen?!

Google+ IS a second chance at social networking but now I'm older and wiser with a bit more self-restraint. I have a business to promote and that's it. I'm not compelled to update my status every day or feel I have a platform to rant on. I know I didn't have to do that on Facebook, either, but I couldn't stop myself from doing so. Also, I don't have to be subjected to check-ins, game stats/invites, and...wow, hallelujah I have forgotten the other irritants of Facebook.

Does Google+ have any cons? I'm sure there are but for me I'm still in the euphoric stages of the relationship. I will let you know once the rose-tinted glasses come off.

Brief Interlude

2011-07-13T23:56:00.000-07:00

In the past year weekend getaways have become elusive amid family obligations as Ray and I each carry the responsibility of the dutiful child attending to our elderly parents' needs. His friends invited us on their annual camping trip to Dogwood Campground near Lake Arrowhead for the weekend but we could only afford a few hours on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. I was also on grandma duty for the weekend so Queen Rylee graced us with her sweet innocence and provided entertainment. She begged us to take her to a playground and I promised to present her with a vast one. It's been years since I've stepped foot on a campground or been in the vicinity of Lake Arrowhead. Our brief interlude from reality was like playing hookie from high school during final exams. And looking at the campground and nearby Lake Gregory through Rylee's fresh vision made the experience feel like it was my first time.

She didn't waste time collecting sticks and rocks-a recent fascination for her.

She wanted to take them all home.

We drove to nearby Lake Gregory and Rylee ran straight for the water

Homeless Outreach

2011-07-07T00:43:00.000-07:00

While the entire country geared up for America's Independence holiday celebrating with the 4th of July accoutrement(s) of choice I was being stretched and humbled. My celebratory mode was in the off position and I looked forward to my three day weekend with anticipation rivaling a prison inmate on his last day of confinement. My week was burdened with an extra load of worry and concern for my grown children and the difficulties they were facing. The old me-the one with a proclivity for escapism-wanted to run away and disentangle myself from the manacles of anxiety and fear. The kind of worry that is elicited by a mother's helplessness when she has no control over the pain her children have currently endured. I know it is inevitable and experiencing it is akin to a rite of passage in adulthood ceremoniously heralding their waning youth but it troubles me nonetheless.

I would be lying if I said I spent the holiday weekend reflecting on the meaning of America's Independence day. I couldn't get past my own self-absorption. So I find it ironic (or rather poetic) that I was invited to attend a homeless outreach and take photos. In a providential conversation I had with Laura (an employee at an orthopedic clinic I interact with for my job), I discovered that she performs with a band (www.creationdayband.com) at a homeless outreach held in Calvary Community Church in Fullerton providing food, haircuts, clothes, and showers. She invited me and I accepted without hesitation. I brought no expectations with me except my camera that I lugged around hoping to create images saturated with emotion. Instead, I found myself drenched in overwhelming sentiment as I observed the pure hearts in servitude to the needy and homeless. It was my first homeless outreach and I sensed it wouldn't be my last. It was the sucker punch I needed to free myself from the self-imposed, self-absorbed, and self-inflicted imprisonment of selfishness I languished in. How dare I bitch, moan, and complain about how I can't go shopping for new clothes and shoes (don't count the box of shoes in my trunk, or the closet of shoes, or the racks of shoes I currently have), can't afford a haircut, can't escape on a weekend trip, can't go to concerts, can't go on weekly girls' night out, can't buy books, can't have fun, can't have excitement, and can't eat out at high-end restaurants! Who am I to grumble about my current living situation when I have a roof over my head, a bed adorned with clean sheets to sleep on, and food in the refrigerator?

These were the questions repeatedly piercing my heart as I walked through the outreach watching those who were grateful for the clothing donations, warm food, haircuts, and friendship they were given despite the stigma of homelessness. Was it providence or coincidence that the first person to strike up a conversation with me was a homeless man who was a photographer for 35 years? He approached me because he recognized the lens I was using. "A red ring on that lens means you are serious about your photography." We proceeded to have the most intellectual exchange about Nikon vs. Canon, 16-35mm lens vs. the 70-200mm lens, and film vs. digital cameras. I meant to take a photo of him but never had the chance.

Sadly, I didn't get a chance to strike up too many conversations with the people or the volunteers whose grace I covet. The young people serving food and providing haircuts brought to life the words of serving so often preached from the bible. Their actions became a cohesive movement of service that I could not help but be enthralled. My conversations with God lately have become a total bitchfest (yes, I said it and it's true) about how he MUST send me on a mission trip to a far away land again...like NOW, like SOON, like c'mon already, send me! As I walked the perimeter of the outreach I was deeply ashamed about how my insolence mixed with a tincture of arrogance must smell so putrid to God. For he did exactly as I had asked-he sent me on a mission trip a mere couple of miles away in a little city called Fullerton.

He has shown you, O man, what is good;

And what does the Lord require of you

But to do justly,

To love mercy,

And to walk humbly with your God? -Micah 6:8

Creation Day Band

The smiling faces of the volunteers

Lost Momentum

2011-06-22T00:03:00.000-07:00

Child's offering

A few weeks ago, I finished giving my three-year-old granddaughter a bath when I sat down on the bed to help her get dressed. As she faced me she crinkled her button nose and pointed at my midsection asking, "What is that?" Confused, I asked her to clarify what she was pointing at. The little bugger proceeded to make a rolling motion with her hands, pointed at my stomach, smiled REALLY big and wide then gleefully shrieked, "YOU HAVE A BABY IN YOUR TUMMY!" That was the first day of my daily runs AND it was exactly what I needed to kick my butt out of my funk.

Earlier this year I made a vow to be more present with my family, remember each of their birthdays (cousins, nieces, nephews included) attend MOST of the family parties, and visit my sick aunt and uncles. I was doing pretty well, I thought, spending quality time with my parents, sister, kids, nieces, and nephews.

First, let me define what family means to me. It isn't exclusive to parents, siblings, kids, grandkid. No, "family" encompasses my twelve cousins, their significant others, AND all of their offspring. Growing up, my cousins were akin to siblings and in adulthood we have become close friends. Of course, every family has their quirks and mine wasn't exempt. Despite my busyness I made an effort to visit my Auntie Tessie (my godmother) after she came home from the hospital and then again when she was hospitalized weeks later. She had battled kidney disease for many years, having so many close calls, but never failed to come home.

I was so consumed with my dad's health issues that on May 2nd when I received the text that Auntie Tessie was in the hospital again I truly believed it was another routine stay for her. We all poured into the hospital after our work day and she passed away later that night surrounded by family that packed into her ICU room like sardines. Shock and disbelief overrode our grief. Although she was sick we expected her to come home like she's done hundreds of times over the years.

I silently wrestled with my own demons in the lost momentum of good intentions and unspoken words. Twice I visited her this year but not once did I truly say "I love you, thank you for all you've done for me." Was my presence enough? She was the youngest of my dad's five siblings and her death has left a deep fissure in our lives. Her deep faith in God leaves no doubt as to where she is residing but her absence feels like a phantom limb.

Death spotlighted the fear of losing my own parents and illuminated my failure in living the platitude--"don't take your loved ones for granted." Watching my now orphaned cousins sail through the waters of grief preparing for their mom's funeral rendered me helpless. No amount of words, food, or company could wipe the sorrow from their faces, yet they moved onward while I remained stagnant, retreating from the world and its well-meaning comfort. My fever for writing vanished, my thrice-weekly exercise regimen was forgotten, the daily forays into blog reading was avoided, and texts/e-mails from friends were left unanswered. I found solace only in my family. It didn't help that I couldn't attend my aunt's funeral due to a wedding I was hired to photograph and therein lay another irretrievable moment to say goodbye.

Do I continue to live each day as if it were my last? No, I fail every single time but I do make an attempt to live each day as if it were my parents' last. I threw away the remnants of unforgiveness toward my dad and bite my tongue when we are at odds with each other. I am not trying to wear the "good daughter's" shoes but doing what I know is right and not letting time or pride or anger or resentment fuel another lost momentum of good intentions. What little free time I have is spent with my family, whether it be my sister, children, grandchild, parents, brother, his wife, and his five children. And the countless family parties that I am obligated to attend is no longer a burden but a reminder that I am blessed with a bastion of familial love.

After Rylee pointed out my ever-expanding midsection I have since resumed my running and changed my thrice-weekly regimen to daily running therapy. A bonus to this therapy is having Ray accompany me which provides us with OUR time together. My runs have realigned my focus and drive, igniting my writing fever and clearing my head of the static funk I've been mired in. My longing for material things has dissipated and adhering to a tight budget ceased to be a soulful lament. I can buy the latest gadgets but I cannot purchase quality time with my family.

"A man can own the world but be poor for the lack of love. A man can own nothing and yet be wealthy in relationships." ~Max Lucado

Easter Dandelion Wishes

2011-04-26T15:28:00.000-07:00

Blowing dandelion wishes into the air is one of my granddaughter's favorite things to do. Being an equal opportunity three-year-old she asked that I join her. As I closed my eyes and blew I willed the fluffy propeller seeds to make my wish come true as they became airborne. Easter is the only holiday that holds a significant place in my heart and every year my only wish is to have my grown kids together with me. Apparently, an errant seed failed in its mission because one kid was missing in action during Easter service but I let it slide since she graced us with her presence afterwards.

This year Rylee was old enough to delight in the tradition of dyeing eggs and her excitement was contagious. When her mom arranged the Easter swag on the table Rylee's eyes widened into large shiny orbs of glee and emulated a Mexican jumping bean. I marvel at the ease with which my daughter, Chloe, falls into her role as a mother because I was always a stressful mess during holidays. Granted, I had 3 kids (2 of them ten months apart) and I was incredibly immature but in hindsight there was no need for me to be THAT stressed. But if you would have seen me boiling 2 dozen eggs for 3 kids to baptize in multi-colored dye you would have thought I just ran a full marathon in under an hour. I wasn't bred from the gene pool where the very talented, inherently handy-dandy-artsy-craftsy moms emerged so using store-bought PAAS egg dye was akin to completing a one million piece puzzle. I was secretly relieved when my youngest thought dyeing eggs was for babies. Now, Gramma Nette has the privilege of sitting back, revelling in these tangible moments of watching Chloe and Rylee create their own ineffaceable memories of Easter.

(Apparently, naked Easter eggs are not appealing to her.)

Our resident Easter bunny plucking red seeds from the bushes and throwing them in a wide arc across the grass. She spreads her arms wide and exclaims, "Seeds for my beeeyoooteeeful garden!"

Hunting fun! She had no competition in this year's egg hunt and scored each one.

The last hidden egg that almost couldn't be found because Mr. Ray, the egg hider, thought he was being funny.

To view Rylee's recent "photo shoot" with Gramma Nette please click here.

Long Beach Grand Prix

2011-04-21T15:59:00.000-07:00

Ray has a unique gift I jokingly call "the gift of receiving". People seem to bestow him with things or favors unattached with ulterior motives. Granted, being a DJ has allowed him to be sponsored by many companies but this is entirely different. Either his friends are extremely generous or he's a magnet for benevolence. A few weeks ago his Facebook status alerted his friends that he was trying to procure tickets to the Long Beach Grand Prix and within days they were in his hands. Just like that.

It's been exactly ten years since I attended the LB Grand Prix and last time I barely enjoyed it in my altered state. This year I was completely sober and relished every single moment of it. The best thing about our relationship is that we are both anal retentive when it comes to time. (My Filipino family would beg to differ but I am intentionally late for family shindigs...actually, I'm late for work many times so let's just say I'm "selectively" anal retentive with time.) When Ray says we are leaving no later than 8:30 a.m. you can bet that we are in the car promptly at the appointed time. The mixture of giddiness and excitement was like Red Bull tainting our veins, propelling us forward as we practically skipped, then ran, through the gates of the Grand Prix. It was 9 a.m. and we made it right on time for the drifting practice. Despite the 70+ degree heat, chills and goosebumps marred our skin whenever the cars slid by. We looked and sounded like a pair of giggling idiots. He asked if I wanted to sit in the grandstands and I yelled, "Hellllllllllllllllll to the noooooooo!" I wanted to be as close to the track as possible experiencing the visceral vibrations and the tickling of my ear drums from the massive horsepower roaring by. Of course Ray, the show-off, had to remind me that it's nothing compared to sitting inside the car. He DJ'd for a drifting competition in China a few years ago and got to race in the passenger seat of a drift car. (Yes, I'm secretly rabid with jealousy.)

Although I felt rejuvenated from the thrill of being there I still wasn't feeling well enough to lug my huge camera around in the heat. So with my handy-dandy iPhone I took pictures of the cars that got my juices flowin'. Ray and I have an ongoing debate (one of many) about modern cars vs. muscle cars. He would take a Porsche or Audi r8 any day whereas I would rather peal out in a souped-up 1965 Pontiac GTO. Recently, my 3-year-old Toyota Solara needed a brand-new transmission and to this day Ray suspects that it blew from my driving it like a race car. I haven't heard the end of it! "I'll tell you what, why don't you just get a race car next time!" Forget the BMWs, Benz, Porsches, and Audis, these two beauties would make my hourlong commute to work totally worth it!

And Ray wished he won the lotto to make these his.

I only like this because it's red!

Number 1 on my Christmas wish list this year: his and hers bikes!

And his/hers race cars!

The insanely priced beer at the Grand Prix made it elusive.

People-watching in the LBC

Video compilation courtesy of Ray Belling. The finale is my favorite!

Tax day & Mini Escape

2011-04-18T14:58:00.000-07:00

Spilling coffee all over my work desk twice in less than a week meant I needed to "wake up and smell the coffee". (Yes, my coffee mug resembles a real camera lens. How apropos, no?) It had to take spilt coffee to wake me from my workaholic stupor and remind me to stand up, stretch, leave the office, get some Vitamin D, and inhale the sea breeze less than 2 miles away. When I started this new job in Newport Beach nine months ago I had solid intentions to enjoy the fact that I am situated less than 2 miles from the beach. I made promises to myself to take walk breaks and enjoy my surroundings, bask in the sun, lift my face to the wind, etc. Simple actions for a simple life, right? Yet, here I sit like an automaton programmed only to work the injectable queue approving/denying authorization requests 8 straight hours a day, 5 days a week. And I am always sick and stressed or stressed and sick about my work queue or my current financial situation or my family's health or my grandchild's or kids' well-being. See? And the list can go on longer than Charlie Sheen's rants. I ain't no spring chicken but doctors' visits should only be once a year, NOT 4 times in a month. I truly am my own worst enemy and have no one to blame for my weak immune system. No one. Who needs enemies when I've got the meanest and fiercest one of all?

Today my taxes are due and this year I am one of the poor who owes the IRS. I will be the IRS's b*tch for the next couple of years. My neurotic worrywart self could add that to my always-growing, never-dwindling pile of stress that precariously balances over my angular shoulders but I decided to stop punishing myself, my mind, and my body. After I mailed my taxes off at the post office I made a slight detour to C'est Si Bon bakery in Newport Beach for a mini-escape of tuna on french baguette, chocolate croissant, and iced green tea. If you're cruising down PCH near Newport Beach may I recommend this bakery with to-die-for chocolate croissants. I swoon even as I write this because they are my biggest indulgence. I forced myself to stop thinking of my financial woes, my work queue, my family's health and well-being, and sat there ensconced in the corner of C'est Si Bon simply enjoying my food and solitude. I need to break the habit of eating lunch in the office and cultivate a healthy daily habit of enjoying my lunch outside, away from the 4 walls that suffocate me.

Let's see what tomorrow brings...

Tuna on french baguette, to-die-for chocolate croissant, and iced green tea from C'est Si Bon bakery at Newport Beach, CA

My Unbirthday

2011-04-11T22:35:00.000-07:00

Last month was my 43rd birthday. Yup, I said it. My 43rd. I'm not one of those females who hide my age or lie about it. It has been quite a journey to get here and faking the funk would diminish the adventure. The road to 43 hasn't been easy and I never chose the conventional one. It was fraught with mind numbing obstacles, hair-raising surprises, and unwise decisions. Yet, along the way I encountered love, faith, and hope. It sounds completely trite but I tend to wax poetic and I'm trying to keep this blog post short so trite it will be.

Much to my family's and boyfriend's dismay I tend to retreat on my birthday-physically, emotionally, and mentally. I refuse to partake in a huge celebration, won't agree to any parties, and end up spoiling plans to surprise me. This year was no different, in fact, I think it was even worse. The reason for my despondency comprised many things but I couldn't fathom celebrating my birthday when I just watched the devastation in Japan a week prior. And how could I foist MY beliefs onto my boyfriend, sister, kids, and grandkid when their only desire is to celebrate me because they love me? I'm humbly grateful after this past birthday fiasco I still have a boyfriend, sister, kids, and grandkid. I think if you looked up the meaning of "unconditional love" in the dictionary you'd see a group picture of the people God has blessed me with. A huge fist pump to my daughter Chloe who really tried her best to rally everyone together to surprise me.

On my 43rd year, I vow to embrace every gray hair that suddenly says "hello!", welcome every wrinkle with a gentle dab of my heavy-duty anti-aging cream, accept every ache, creak, tweak, twinge, and spasm of my bones and/or muscles, flow through the changes that transforms my body daily, fill my brain space with an abundance of positive thoughts, cultivate my inner peace with deep breaths, and seek God faithfully and deeply.

Ray whipped up the video below as a birthday surprise. It's been 2 and 1/2 years of nonstop craziness and madness with a whole lotta lovin' me through my mess.

Music by Au Revoir Simone "Sad Song"

Play me a sad song because
That's what I want to hear.
I want you to make me cry.
I want to remember the places that we left,
Lost to the mists of time.

I know that you'll go soon.
You'll find out so take me with you always.

On buses that move through the night
We sleep on and on.
We got off at Memphis, black-top heat will make us thirsty.
We'll never get sick anymore.

Lip Service

2011-03-28T16:16:00.000-07:00

Wow, my hands look old!

Last week was THE week that I became adept at playing the world’s smallest violin. So much so the sound pierced my poor boyfriend’s eardrums. I was attacked by a vicious viral infection that debilitated me all week grotesquely rendering my lips to swell in inordinate proportions. The culprit: HSV-1 (herpes simplex virus-1). I felt like a walking parasite with my oozing and blistery fish lips but the overall malaise and pain were excruciating. I did childbirth three times without pain meds, refused narcotics for my back pain, but “the herps” had me begging/pleading/whimpering for pain medication. It was as if I skidded on hot asphalt with my lips and nothing I used obliterated the searing pain. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, AND couldn’t work.

So why share this with the entire blogger world? Because my blog is titled “…how I laugh in the face of adversity” and want to help those who have suffered or are suffering from this. When a coworker came into my office, abruptly halted, and asked "Who have YOU been kissing." I replied, "Nah, it's Botox gone awry." I desperately scoured the internet for answers and relief. I was met with “there is no cure…” and “duration of the virus lasts 10-14 days” and “try this remedy…” Working in the medical field I was surrounded by sage knowledge and advice but I wanted to scream, “TAKE THE PAIN AWAY!!! NOW!” My medical director took one look at me and said severe stress caused my ailment, shutting my immune system down. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that my thorough research on the internet already told me that. All I wanted was for the pain to go away. I couldn’t fathom the people who told me they suffer from these outbreaks on a regular basis. Say what?

I used everything that was recommended: Abreva, Carmex, Lysine ointment, Listerine, Vaseline, Alcohol, Neosporin Lip Treatment, Blistex, ice cubes, and Anbesol. Nothing on the internet showed extreme swelling of the lips or accompanying migraine headaches so I pleaded with my doctor to put me out of my misery. My doctor diagnosed me with an infection on top of the regular viral outbreak. Oh lucky me! Of course! Of freakin’ course! After a Toradol shot in my butt (for instant migraine relief), steroid paste (for lips), Acyclovir (for viral infection), and Fioricet (for future migranes), I was sent home. Stupid me expected instant relief but my misery continued. I ventured to work and felt like the resident leper by the alarming looks I got from people. So I lasted 2 hours and quickly went home marking day 2 of missed work. Really? From fever blisters?! What a wuss! But the saga continued…the steroid paste burned my lips, Fioricet didn’t squash the migraine headaches, and I knew Acyclovir wasn’t a cure. I prayed for healing. I prayed for forgiveness because the remnants of Catholicism intoned an ominous warning: "You are being punished for talking so much sh*t." I finally relented and called my doctor for narcotics so I could eat and sleep.

What finally alleviated my confounding misery? Good ol’ Vicodin for the searing lip pain, Excedrin Migraine for my debilitating headaches, dabbing hydrogen peroxide on my lips, and then coating the sores with Bacitracin ointment and Carmex. It is now Day 11 of my viral infection and my mouth is almost back to normal…almost.

What can I do to prevent future outbreaks? (Because believe you me I am determined to prevent them.) First, eliminate stress or learn not to be a total freakazoid. During those sleepless, pain-filled nights, I realized no amount of bills is worth this crazy pain and ugliness. Second, stay away from long exposure to the sun. Again, my beach bum days may be over. Third, take L-Lysine supplements because the amino acid may help prevent outbreaks. Also, I plan on consuming foods rich in L-Lysine such as yogurt, salmon, liver (errrr…forget that), and spinach. Lastly, learn to recognize the symptoms and treat it quickly.

Overall, I believe the big message here is to quit stressing the small and big stuff because once a person contracts the virus it remains inactive in the body until something triggers it. I have to learn to take a step back and allow myself to relax because my body is evidently rebelling and imploding. If friends and family can’t understand that I am unable to fulfill obligations then I have to be okay with their disappointment and anger. I have to stop being my own worst enemy and allow myself to breathe deeply and sit still even when I think MY world is deconstructing around me.

For detailed information on Herpes Simplex Virus 1 click on the links below.

http://www.wikihow.com/Treat-a-Cold-Sore-or-Fever-Blisters

http://www.webmd.com/genital-herpes/pain-management-herpes

For Japan, With Love

2011-03-17T13:16:00.000-07:00

I posted this on my photography blog (click here) and decided not to neglect this one. Those closest to me know how deeply I am affected by global issues, events, and disasters. I tend to spread myself too thin fighting for causes that run my heart through the shredder. My boyfriend, Ray, witnesses the despair and frustration I feel when I cannot actively help those in need, stuck in an office while reminding myself to be grateful for my job. He's been the voice of reason encouraging me to focus on only one cause (which happens to be My Refuge House) as I tend to crumble from the weight of my overflowing plate.

My heart was still grieving over Haiti when it broke again for the earthquake victims in New Zealand. I sat in my office, bawling, because I hadn't heard whether or not my friend's fiance was safe (he was). Not even a month later and I watched with dread as the rapacious tsunami greedily consumed large territories of Japan. Imagine MY horror when I came into work the next day privy to the cavalier attitude of the people around me joking about the tsunami hitting Newport Beach. I was still reeling from the images of the devastation and know that Newport Beach isn't immune to natural disasters. It is times like those when I feel the most helpless, misunderstood, and alone. I know I am only one human being but whatever I CAN do, I WILL do. I may not be a superhero but a girl can dream, right?

For more information on what "For Japan, With Love" is about and how you can help, please go to my photography blog: http://www.nannettephotography.com/.

A Timeless Love

2011-03-08T15:08:00.000-08:00

All pictures taken with my iPhone

It was a torrid love affair that began before I could formulate a coherent sentence. The moment my grubby little hands laid hold on a Little Golden Book I was enchanted forever. My first love-my love for books-has only intensified in its temerity. At the age of 5 I wrote a letter to Santa Claus requesting a collection of one thing: books.To my delight the bearded old man delivered my heart's desire despite my worthiness of coal. Over the years I begged, borrowed, and stole for books. My shameless reading lust was never satiated after completing a book. I immediately began reading another before the glow of the previous adventure dissipated. In my awkward and tumultuous teen years I starved myself during lunch, saved my money, and made my parents drive me to the mall every Friday night so I could buy the latest Nancy Drew or Hardy Boys installment. (I blame that period of starvation for my stunted growth in the uhh...chest department. At least that's how I have deluded myself.)

Before my 3 children could walk I tried to cultivate their own love affair with books, fanning the flames with nightly bedtime readings that would pique curiosities and spark inquisitive minds. Although they read and enjoyed our outings to the library and bookstores I mourned their lackluster passion for the written word. I was almost disappointed that I never had to reprimand them for reading at the dinner table, or ruining their eyesight while reading in the car, or ground them for staying up late in the dark reading a book illuminated by a flashlight. They never walked out of a library staggering with a stack of books so high that their spine was threatened with scoliosis. (I truly believe the cervical stenosis I suffer in my 40s manifested from carrying so many books.) In my total consumption of books I defied rules, ready to reap the consequences. But my children never risked anything for books and I was content in their obedience. My own love affair for books continued into adulthood and it contributed to my mounting debt. Barnes and Noble and Borders were the "drug" dealers feeding my unholy addiction. When I recently learned that Borders was bankrupt and in the process of liquidation I felt as if I had just heard the news that a beloved lover contracted an incurable and fatal disease.

In the past 5 years I've watched my niece Micaela with growing excitement. During family get-togethers half of her head was submerged in a book, oblivious to the noise indicative of the Ricaforte family. I secretly whooped when I heard she stayed up late in the darkness reading a book via flashlight. My heart pounded every time I saw the faraway look in her eyes whenever she looked up from reading and knew her mind was still embroiled in the adventure within those pages. So when her mom asked if I could take Micaela to the Cerritos Library I was extremely elated! (To see pictures of Micaela perusing books, please click here.) I promised myself that this year I would focus on family and strengthen my relationships with the next generation. The Cerritos LIbrary was the perfect venue for familial bonding!

You see, obtaining a Cerritos Library card is darn near impossible for non-Cerritos residents. The annual non-resident fee is $100 and I decided to funnel my funds toward Barnes and Noble, Borders, or Amazon. In hindsight, $100 per year was a cheaper alternative than the thousands of dollars I've spent at other places. Although I couldn't check books out I was never deterred from spending valuable time at the Cerritos library, admiring their architecture and relishing in being surrounded by the multitudinous array of books. Can you imagine how the gears of my devious little mind cranked when I officially became Ray's girlfriend 2 years ago? He's been a resident of Cerritos for over 30 years and I still joke that the only reason I'm with him is because he holds the key to my heaven-on-earth. This breathtaking library has become my sanctuary; the refuge from the noisy world and the tranquil escape where I can edit my photos or daydream to my heart's content.

Now it has become the hallowed ground where my niece and I can spend countless hours on a scavenger hunt for the books our hearts are set on. It is one of the sacred places where our love affair for the written word will thrive and flourish. As technology intrepidly advances and spawns a new breed of e-readers I hope Micaela and her offspring fiercely protect the spirit of books should the world feel it no longer needs them.