Christmas lives on

Is it weird that it's Jan. 26 and I still have my Christmas tree in my living room? Hey, I'm just trying to hold onto the holiday cheer.

Okay, so I'm taking it down now. It's taken me about three days. I'm kind of sad. It's almost like having a plant or goldfish die. I need to get it out of here before all the pine needles fall off onto my living room floor.

Lesson learned: Even though it's probably dead, it look pretty good.

Hitting the slopes

The ski season is on, so I am working again as a snowboard instructor. The weather has been good for teaching, but not so much for snowboarding. We are hurting for snow. My friend, Steven, and I did take a few good runs in the morning before lessons started.

My first lesson was a bunch of boys from school in the Valley. In every group, there is a kid with ADD, one who gets it first try, and one who can't even get up.

It's fun though, to see it when someone does learn something I taught them.

Lesson learned: Wear lots of sunscreen. Lots.

Relearning old tricks

Today I did a double-handed pony tail.

While this may not seem like much of a feat to those of you with normal elbows, it was a major accomplishment considering what I did to myself. (See my last post.)

I'm actually surprised to see how fast I am recovering. By Wednesday morning, most of the pain was gone. It's still difficult to bend my elbows all the way, but I'm gaining a little ground each day. Maybe it's the glucosamine chondroitin. (Don't ask me what that is, but my doctor recommended it for faster healing). For some reason, my left arm is healing quicker than my right, meaning I'm getting adept at doing things like eating and brushing my teeth left handed.

Either way, I was well enough Wednesday to work a ten-hour shift.

We'll see what happens tomorrow though. I say this because I went grocery shopping today, and carrying the bags up to my apartment was harder than I thought. I had to take one at a time. My step-mom (a.k.a. my long-distance physical therapist) is going to yell at me for that one. (Mom, I swear I tried to call a friend for help, and they weren't there).

Lessons learned: Save any more grocery shopping for when I can do a cross-armed shirt removal.

Please pass the vicodin

I've come to have a whole new appreciation for my elbows. It's amazing what you can't do without their use: wash your hair, put in contacts, put on chapstick, brush hair out of your mouth ... eat.

This newfound esteem for this particular body part came after I inured my elbows and triceps and have been unable to bend my arms for the past two days. Last Friday night, I decided to try a new weight routine that a friend showed me. Apparently it was a little too much for my wimpy arms. I was fine all day Saturday, but I woke up that night in pain, and it has gotten progressively worse ever since.

Believe me, the humor of this is not lost on me. I have, more than once, been attempting some common, every day task only to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my arms half bent, trying in vein to reach my face, which is still about a foot away.

That's in between tears of pain, which I've been trying to minimize, since blowing my nose is out of the question. Apparently I must have strained or caused little tears in my ligaments and muscles. Though small, they are surprisingly painful.

A shot my doctor gave me yesterday, an over the counter medicine, ice, heat and a supplement he recommended made no difference. Finally today, he prescribed me a mild narcotic.

Today was my second day I was unable to go to work. I'm managing to type this only by having my laptop pushed far away from my body, and with lots of breaks.

Jenn S. came over to help me today. She cleaned my kitchen, helped me take pills, made me lunch and, I'm not joking, fed me. This experience has definitely brought our friendship to a whole new level.

My favorite moment was while we were on the way to the pharmacy to pick up my medicine. At a stoplight, I asked her to brush away my bangs from my face, which were stuck under my sunglasses. She complied, and as she was doing it, a girl walked around the truck parked beside us. "You're so beautiful," Jenn said with feigned adoration, tucking my hair behind my ears.

Lesson learned: Maybe I should leave intensive weight training to the body builders.

Tripped up

The coolest thing happened Saturday night. My friend Jenn from work wanted to go see a DJ at a local brewery, and I agreed to go. At one point, we were walking by the bar, when one of three guys sitting there motioned to me. He asked me what my name is and what I do. I replied, and told him I was a reporter for a newspaper.

He made a face and said snottily, "Oh, I see."

Just then, one of the legs of his stool spontaneously broke, and he fell to the floor. Jenn and I just about died laughing. Tip for all you men out there: When you are hitting on a girl, don't dis her profession.

Lesson learned: Don't mess with journalists. We have super powers that we don't even know about.

Back to work

After two weeks vacation, returning to work is never easy. My desk had a stack of papers about a foot high, my e-mail inbox had 400 new messages and my voicemail was packed as well.

It is actually good to be back though.

Lesson learned: Nothing like a vaction to make you love your job again.

Setting sail

So I went on my first cruise last weekend. It was a surprise for my friend Jenn's husband. There was, of course, lots of food, fruity drinks and shows.

We landed in Ensenada, Mexico the first day, where we took a bus up to a little town called La Bufadora. The tour we took wasn't through the cruise company, so it did cross my mind, as we got further and further out of town and the road got narrower and narrower, this was all a scheme to take us hostage and hold us for ransom.

We made it without being held up to the little town, were you can visit a flea market and an ocean blow hole. The water sprays about 50 feet in the air.

The second day we spent at sea. It was warm, so we spent the day by the pool, where there was a water slid.

The only thing that surprised me was how much the boat rocked. It's a little unnerving. That and how much drinks cost.

Lesson learned: People are just as bad at karaoke on a boat as on land.

Cross country

As if to say goodbye, the sun came out on our last day in Florida. We spent the day on the beach, strawberry daiquiris in hand.

Then began the marathon trip home. Amanda and I got up at 2:30 a.m. Florida time to drive the two hours to Tampa. From there, I flew across the country to Reno, where my mom had arranged to leave my car.

My arrival was just in time for a blizzard to hit over Donner Pass. It was a harry trip, and I was a little delirious when it was over.

The next morning, my friends Justin and Gabe picked me up so that we could make the six hour drive to Long Beach, where our cruise was leaving from. The cruise was a surprise for my friend Jenn S.'s husband Paul.

All told, I was traveling for about two days straight.

Lesson learned: Reno airport is not the optimal place to fly into during the winter.

Batter up

Today is the last day before some of my family members start tricking back home after spending a week in Boca Grande, so we had to have our traditional soft ball game. For the first time, we actually got to have it on a real baseball diamond.

Since we were all nursing hang overs, we decided to have it late in the afternoon. It was perfect weather for it — a gray sky and cool breeze.

We had our share of exciting moments. Terry and mom impressed me with some of the catches they made. And of course, there was plenty of trash talk.

The game ended when a thick, black cloud rolled in within about five minutes. It was a little reminiscent of the movie Armageddon, when the aliens arrived. It's pouring rain still, but we're inside having dinner that Amanda, my cousin Melissa and I prepared.

Lesson learned: I can bat, but I can't throw.

Ringing in the New Year

Happy New Year! I'm writing this is a sleep-deprived stupor. Our family rang in the new year at an inn where my uncle had gotten us tickets to see a local band called "The Boca Boys." One of the highlights was dancing with my Grandfather, who has an elegant style of twirling all his granddaughters around.

All the girls, including my aunts, mom, sister and cousin, had our own dance off. It was fun to have a few drinks with them. After the band quit, we headed to another bar on the south end of the island, where another band was blaring out old rock tunes. By closing time, we all still had a enough liquor in our bloodstreams that going to bed was out of the question. So we headed to the north end of the island, where a few of the family are staying, to go in the hot tub.

We descended on a couple who was enjoying a romantic evening alone. My uncle John tried to warn them since he was the first to arrive. At some point, he embellished to us that the couple were newlyweds. We were all toasting to their happiness, as they protested, "We're not married."

We topped off the evening with a couple of pieces of key lime pie, which has been the staple dessert here in Boca. We all got to bed at almost 5 a.m.

Lesson learned: I think I might break my ten-day alcohol consumption streak tonight.

Project complete

This was my life for the past six months: I talked to more than 40 people. Wrote more than 20 pages. Had three of my major sources back out. Went through edits and reedits.

This is why this post is devoted to a little shameless self promotion. My project on seniors in isolation ran on yesterday. It's about the the mental health impacts of seniors who are secluded from social contact.

There is a limited edition that ran online. (If you know me, you can find it. Just go to my paper's Web site and click on "search this site," enter seniors and isolation ... or just e-mail me for the link). My blood, sweat and tears went into this.

I was on vacation and haven't even seen the real thing. I'll wait until I do to celebrate too much, but needless to say, it's a relief.

Lesson learned: Some projects come easier than others.

Out at sea

My uncles have the hook up on this island. Today, they were able to con three captains with three different boats to take us out on a tour of the islands nearby. It was the warmest day yet, with temperatures at 80 degrees at 10 a.m.

We all piled aboard at about 1 p.m. Amanda and I paired up with our aunts Anne and Joy, toasting our departure with a glass of wine. We cruised across a channel to an island, where we had a picnic lunch.

We also made a stop at another island, called Cabbage Key, where there is a restaurant with hundreds of thousands of dollar bills taped on the wall. People write their names on them with permanent marker. We, of course, had to make a Wyman wall. This is the place that the song "Cheeseburger in Paradise" was inspired.


To top off the day, we watched another sunset, with the pelicans diving for fish.

Lesson learned: Oceans and pelicans make for great sunsets.

The family goes to coffee

Our family has the reputation for being incessantly late. My dad grew up in a family of nine kids, and it takes awhile to get that many people together. I have noticed that this is a genetic characteristic that gets passed down the generations.

Case in point: At about four p.m. yesterday Amanda asked me if I wanted to go into downtown Boca for a coffee. She was lagging a little bit after staying up for 36 hours straight the day before. My aunt Anne and uncle Dale decided to go along. When we finally got rounded up and out the door, we decided to take a golf cart (the traditional form of transportation on the island). But of course, we had to make a stop at the other house, where we just happened to arrive in time for the sunset.

We all piled back onto the cart, but only made it a block before we saw Grandpa and Grandpa driving the opposite direction. They were just arriving, so we had to get in the hugs.

At this point, the golf cart was about to die, so we headed to Uncle Jimbo's, who owns the cart. There we ran into some old friends of the family, who we updated on all of the family's whereabouts.

After that, we walked to the restaurant/coffee house. But they don't serve espresso. Our only shot was a bar called "The Temptation," the waitress told us.

This is a popular place my uncle used to work at for years, with numerous liquor bottles and signs lining the walls, including one that said "I can resist everything but temptation." When we asked the bar tender (whose name is "Snake") for a latte, he gave us a withering look and said "Keep on looking." Then he served up four gin and tonics. This was about 8 p.m., four hours after the expedition began.

So much for coffee.

Lesson learned: It's not possible to find a drink like a latte on this island, especially at the rate we move.

Arriving in paradise

I have arrived in Florida and am now officially living it up. It is beautiful here on Boca Grande, an island off the Gulf Coast near Tampa. Two of my uncles and their families live here. The rest of us have rented two houses and a condo to stay at.

I met up with a group at the airport, and we arrived to a large greeting committee on Tuesday night. The next morning a bunch of us went for a run/walk/bike ride. There is no shortage of white sand, palm trees or flowers.


That afternoon, Amanda, my cousin Nick and I made an attempt to go to the beach, but it was a little chilly with the wind. We were more successful today, and spent the afternoon in the sun, swimming and playing frisbee.

Lesson learned: I could get used to this.

Mayday, mayday, we're going down

I am sitting on an airplane right now. Thankfully, this one is not trying to buck us off like the plane I was in during my last flight. Seriously, I have never been more scared on an airplane in my life.

We were taking off when it started sliding back and forth. It took some big drops, until the nose of the airplane was pointing downward as we were making a steep left turn. One particularly sharp drop, everyone on the plane screamed. I was clutching onto the arm rests with both hands (as if that would save me if we crashed). By the time things smoothed out, I was shaking. The guy next to me asked me if I was OK, then consoled me my saying "That freaked me out, too." No kidding?

It was all made okay though, when the flight attendant sang a tribute song to Southwest to the tune of My Girl once we landed.

I'm just glad it's over. I'll feel better when I'm sitting on the beach in Florida.

Lesson learned: Though airplane travel may be safer than driving, its capacity to terrify just doesn't compare. A car can't free fall 50 feet and still be okay.

A Merry Christmas

Merry belated Christmas. I was at my mom's in Truckee this weekend. As usually, she had our activities packed into the weekend. We started off with yen yoga — which is just a slower practice concentrating on relaxing and holding yoga poses — and continued with skate skiing both Christmas Eve and Christmas day.

Saturday, we went to a course called Royal Gorge. It was beautiful. We got there pretty early, just enough to see the sun rising over the mountains that circle the meadow the tracks cross. Mom met up with a bunch of her racing buddies, and they did a time trial.

I was content to plod along alone. Skate skiing is one of the best cardio workouts you can get. It uses a mix of muscle groups, and you have to try to balance on a pencil this ski all the while. Needless to say, I was less than graceful. Every once and while, though, everything would start to come together, and I would get into a rhythm. That would last about five seconds.

It was fun to be outside getting worked.

We spent Christmas skiing again and cooking. Mom got me a sweet canon digital camera. That means there will be more photos on this blog. Yeah!

Lesson learned: I need to get a pair of skate skies. Maybe then I would have a chance at keeping my mom in the line of sight.

Weeklong headaches

Ever have one of those days where every little thing seems to go wrong? I had one of those days — every single day this week. From losing an hour's work due to our new computer program's glitches to delays with the project I'm working on to forgetting my tennis shoes when I went to the gym, I just couldn't seem to kick this string of bad luck.

I was hoping to have an easy week, then slip off for two weeks of vacation. But that was before I agreed to write two large-scale stories, have my project run while I'm gone and write daily stories on top of that. I finally finished everything at about 7:30 p.m. tonight.

Now it's on to packing.

Lesson learned: Don't agree to large stories before vacation.

Almost there

I've scrambling lately to get ready for vacation. After Friday, I'm headed to my mom's for Christmas. Then I fly to Florida to meet up with my Dad and his side of the family. It's a wacky group so I'm excited. It doesn't hurt that it's in a warm place with sunshine. It's been especially cold here the past few days.

After I fly back, I'm going on a cruise with some friends from Long Beach to Baja.

That all sounds just dreamy, but very far away. I have two large stories, the wrap up of my project, and two daily stories to finish up before then, not to mention all the packing and other chores I have at home.

Lessons learned: You pay for vacation.

Eating beans and singing

We have two traditions here called Mut's Bean Feed and the Annual Christmas Sing. This is the stuff that makes me love small towns. One day, someone decided it would be a great tradition to feed the entire town beans, then march them up to the park for a round of Christmas Carols.

It was raining today, but that didn't stop a crowd from lining up for two blocks for Mut's famous beans. There was also a sizable turn out for the Christmas Sing, which our paper sets up each year right after the feed. Various businesses and organizations have sung the same Christmas carols for decades. We haven't changed them for copyright reasons.

The best part is we get paid to do this, and then everyone goes home early.

Lesson learned: The mics at the Christmas Sing are much more powerful than people realize, meaning, you get to hear all the before and after comments people make without them knowing.

Dull men as dating potential

Yesterday at work, I came across an article in the Modesto Bee about a Web site for the Dull Men's Club. This bland grey page is dedicated solely to men who drive under the speed limit, like to watch paint dry and have a certain obsession with cataloguing completely irrelevant facts, such as the number of airport baggage carousels that go clockwise versus counterclockwise. One the site, dull men around the world can add a comment about how to fully take advantage of this insipid lifestyle. If you check it out, read the "a dull man's way of enjoying his new Jag" or the one about liking to download large files on ridiculously slow servers so he can see the status bar creep across the screen.

This seriously cracks me up.

I've always liked a little spice in my men, but this got me thinking that maybe I should change my tactics. There are certain advantages to dull men. You — directed at all my female peers — certainly wouldn't have to worry about a dull man cheating on you. (An affair would be way to stressful for a dull man). Their aversion to conflict would mean that you could always be right. (Women like to always be right). And you'd really never have to agonize over what is going on in his head, because the answer would likely be nothing much. Don't worry, you too would eventually start seeing the fun in watching batteries charge or reading statistics about roundabouts.

So for anyone who thinks these advantages are worth it, this Web site could double as an online dating tool. Have at it ladies.

Lesson learned: Since my friend Sarah has taken to call me an extreme dater — meaning I like my men extreme — something tells me dull men wouldn't work for me, despite the many problems it would solve.